A saint is dead. Maybe he wasn't a saint by strict Catholic standards, but he was a saint nevertheless. In a day when so few actually give a damn and even fewer act upon their concerns, Mitch Snyder stood out among the crowd.
When I worked with him as a volunteer at the Community for Creative Non-Violence, I felt his singleminded energy like that of a religious zealot. Not the zealots who kill, condemn or bring strife to our world in the name of God but a zealot like St. Francis whose passion for the poor was an obsession.
I'll miss Mitch. The few moments I spent with him really made an impact on me. It's not every day a saint invites you on his mission. After the sorrow dies, the anger will well up-anger at a world of selfishness when so little effort will help so much. I will be angry at a system so unmovable and uncaring that it criticizes rather than cares for its homeless. I'm even a little angry at myself for not being more involved than I was and for not getting to know Mitch better. I can say I love him because he touched my life deeply in a very short time. I'll miss him because he's not here, but I believe he lives on. LEE CARLETON Fairfax