Prince William homeless man beats the odds

Dumfries, Va. - J.D. Glass was preparing to die and he knew exactly where he wanted his remains to be placed.

"I want to be cremated and have my ashes spread along Clear Fork of the Brazos River in North Central Texas," he wrote in his request for hospice benefits.

The heat-scorched prairies of North Central Texas will have to wait a bit longer for the Abilene native. Diagnosed with end-stage liver disease last summer, the recently sober alcoholic is now getting along just fine, thanks to some earth angels and possibly a bit of divine provi-dence.

An affable, insightful man, Glass was homeless for decades. He began drinking heavily in the 1970s while doing odd jobs in Georgetown.

After a while, the 54-year-old got used to the drifter lifestyle, sleeping in the undercarriage of the Key Bridge. Glass relocated to Prince William in the early 1990s and never changed his ways.

But the elements and the bottle changed him for the worse. His liver started to fail, and he had developed chronic arthritis from the time he spent abusing his body by living in a tent.

"I'm stubborn, I'm hard-headed and I was in the grips of serious alcohol-ism," Glass said.

When Hilda Barg Homeless Prevention Center Director Gayle Sanders saw him last summer, Glass had progressed to the point where he couldn't walk, was slurring his speech and basically looked every bit the part of an alcoholic homeless person.

Soon thereafter, Glass began receiving hospice care in July at the center and then moved into a nursing home in August when death appeared imminent. But by the end of October, Glass had improved enough to no longer need daily care.

On his discharge summary sheet under the classification of discharge potential, the attending physician wrote "good." He was ambulatory, alert and his blood pressure and pulse rate were normal.

"I have got the liver enzymes of a 30-year-old," bragged Glass. Capital Hospice of Manassas did not comment on Glass' case.

But what is remarkable is the change in both his attitude and appearance. Glass has not had a drink since summer and his face, while hardened, does not remotely resemble the one that Sanders saw last summer. Gone is the scraggly beard and haggard look.

In its place is a five o'clock shadow and a short shock of receding brown hair.

Maureen Williams, the general manager at Capital Hospice of Manassas, said only 10 percent of hospice patients either get better or forgo treatment altogether.

Williams said some cases of liver disease can stabilize and even improve, depending on other factors such as age of the person, or other diseases at work in the body.

And then there's Glass.

"Sometimes magic dust comes out of the air and surprises us all," Williams said.

"You don't know how bizarre it is being kicked out of a nursing home [for being too healthy]," joked Glass.

It certainly seems like Glass has been sprinkled with something magical these days. For the first time since 1972, he has his own place -- a basement apartment just blocks from the shel-ter.

Glass and his fellow homeless friend Mike moved into the downstairs of a house, paying $350 a month in rent. A Volunteers of America facility, the center paid for the first month's rent for Glass, who receives $674 a month in disability and $200 a month in food stamps.

He has a cell phone, a TV and access to a refrigerator and a microwave. By next month, Glass said he will have a better idea of how much the utilities will cost.

Until then, it's one step at a time, one day at a time -- albeit with a bum shoulder and a fear of the unknown "a thousand times worse" than the terror experienced by a child first learning to swim, said Glass.

"This is uncharted waters for me," said Glass on Monday morning while watching television in his apartment. "I haven't done this in years, and years and years."

Staff writer Kipp Hanley can be reached at 703-878-8062.