A Used Heroin Needle

Clarion Alley, 1987

I lived in the inner city of San Francisco from 1986-1989. I was a full-time missionary and lived in community called SOS. There were about 10 believers, and we were committed to doing high visibility evangelism, “taking the Church on the street.” We all lived in an old Victorian in the Mission district. 

I will not minimize the difficulty and danger of the streets combined with our ministry’s approach. Not only was it hard, but we also lived in a hard place. Our neighbors were heroin addicts, and we lived just a couple of doors down from the “largest lesbian rock-roll bar west of the Mississippi.”  

Directly behind our house was an alley that was as bad as you can imagine; addicts and winos had basically taken over. It was full of trash, feces, and urine. And in the hot summer it would make your eyes water. It really was awful. 

Please keep reading. 

One hot summer day I decided to clean up part of our alley. Armed with an old broom, laundry detergent, a hose (and courage) I headed out to scrub away. It took some doing; it was somewhat nauseating. 

I noticed a small hole in the corner of the wall. I reached in to discover a well-used heroin needle hidden inside. I ran that needle into my hand. 

I really didn’t think much about it at the time. 

About six months later I was in San Francisco General outpatient for AIDS testing. I had been terribly tired and had lost some weight. Perhaps I had been infected? It was funny but a part of all of this was having to sit in a circle with a dozen gay men being instructed about safe sex practices. (I remember bananas and condoms were used.) 

It was 1987, and AIDS testing was still primitive; it took 6 weeks for the results. 

That wait was a bit of a challenge. I cried out to the Lord many times. Since the symptoms got even worse, I started to think the worse. I was thinking, “was this considered martyrdom?” or “I can’t ask Lynn to marry me now.” (I had been thinking about this up to then.) 

I was positive that I had AIDS. 

About 20 years later I discovered I had contracted HCV, Hepatitis C. I had a good doctor who knew his stuff. Although my liver had been damaged by that point, he guided me through a maze of testing and found a new med that was supposed to have good results. It did, thank God. I had finally been cured. 

Lynnie and I were married on January 7, 1989. 

What can I say really? I know the Lord directly intervened. We returned to Alaska where I was asked to teach at the Alaska Bible Institute. I was able to draw on my many experiences with SOS in San Francisco to touch the hearts of young men and women going into ministry. 

Lynnie and I went on to pastor a Church in 2000. 

Only God can bring good out of something bad. 

“O Lord my God, I cried to You for help, and You have healed me.” 

Psalm 30:2 

 James H. Aughey 

I Almost Killed a Man

Clarion Alley, very much cleaned and renovated
Clarion Alley, Mission District

In 1987 I was working full-time with S.O.S. Ministries in San Francisco, California.

I was living in a  community with other team members in the Mission District on Sycamore St. Everything was rather gritty. (Some would say it was ‘loathsome or gross,’ but that seems unkind.)

Wine bottles were mixed with the decor of fresh graffiti and were then blended with the acrid smell of urine, puke, and feces. When it got hot, it got really bad. It could make your eyes water.

“Amelia’s”, the biggest lesbian “rock-n-roll” bar west of the Mississippi was just a few doors down.

A gay thrift store was next to it. Living next to us were heroin addicts; when they overdosed they would start retching in the common “light-well” that we shared with them. The “puking” could get pretty violent, and you had to turn up the radio just to block it out. And we prayed for them.

I had the misfortune (?) of having the front room on the first floor overlooking the street. Nights would bring out all the crazies, the junkies, the girls fighting and throwing bottles at each other. I heard everything. Cursing and yelling and screaming.

God had given me a front-row seat to all the nastiness and pain.

The house we lived in was smack in the middle of what the San Francisco Chronicle called “San Francisco’s Meanest Street.” I think there were some close runners-up to us though. But living on Sycamore had its share of memorable moments.

I was driving the ministry truck back from outreach at Powell and Market (the “cable car turn around.”) We had had a great outreach, almost four hours. It’s a perfect locale, with the subway and the tourists and the street performers. The truck was loaded with sound equipment, and I was taking it back to the S.O.S. house, where we stored it (under lock and key, of course.)

There was that alley directly behind our house. Our garage was located there.

Clarion Alley was the classic inner-city alley. It was very rough and nasty, and if you did venture out you needed to be “prayed up.” It is also the city’s largest bathroom. It seemed the urine smell tried very hard to cancel out the stench of the feces. It was very ripe. (I had also gotten stabbed with a used heroin needle while I was cleaning– but that is another story.)

I was driving along, very happy to be headed home.

It had been a very long day, and I was tired. I turned from Mission St. into Clarion Alley. It was cold and dark. I was thinking about a cup of hot tea. Now Clarion is only a block long. The street was filled with garbage, and as I tooled along there was a big roll of carpeting laying pretty much crossways on the pavement.

I was tired. My first thought was just to drive over it.

I think I might even accelerated the truck. All of a sudden I had the strong urge to stop. I slammed on the brakes and jumped out of the cab. Cautiously, I knelt down for a closer look. Rolled up inside was a wino trying to sleep. I’m sure in his mind, the carpeting was a cozy “godsend,” a safe place that was a warm and dry place hidden from “bad people.”

And I came just inches from killing him.

God intervenes to protect our lives probably much more than we realize. Each person has been created in His image. He loves everyone– as if we were the only one.

“We put our hope in the Lord.
    He is our help and our shield.”

Psalm 33:20, NLT

SOS Ministries has reorganized but still is true to the vision it had when I served with them. Website: SOS Ministries. It is the premier place to develop a gift of evangelism and worship. 
SOS Ministries is an inter-denominational, evangelical, street ministry in San Francisco.  Its special mission is to reach the people of the San Francisco Bay Area and to train Christians and churches in evangelism helping them reach their own communities for Jesus. Come help share the love of Jesus Christ with the people of San Francisco.
SOS organizes three “Church on the Street” outreaches each month in San Francisco or Berkeley on Saturday afternoon. Local churches bring their worship group and conduct a church service in a downtown park. They also witness three times a month in San Francisco on Friday night.

Outreaches are subject to change. Call (510) 282-5629 to confirm outreaches or for more information. E-Mail: mail@sosmin.com.

Mailing Address:
SOS Ministries
P.O. Box 27358
Oakland, CA, 94602