A 2009 photo of Alwyn, before we knew his name. Photo by Phil Voysey.
Twist of fate for the old man of the street
For years I watched him wander the streets of Newcastle. He was old, small and stooped. He was unshaven, unkempt, grimy and ragged. He wore dark trousers and a dark hooded jacket that covered his head. As days and weeks passed his trousers seemed to practically erode from his body, becoming more and more tattered until eventually they were nothing but strips of rag hanging from a waistband. Every now and then he would vanish from the streets for a day or two before re-appearing in a new outfit when the process would begin again. Most…
