|
But they knew his story, knew that he was homeless,
that he had been killed before sunrise on May 8. He had been riding his
bicycle along U.S. 19 at 4 a.m. when a semitrailer truck driver
crested a small hill and, not seeingAdamis, hit him from behind.
A month and 10 days later, on
Tuesday, the Hellenic Orthodox Mission of Hernando County collected his
body from the morgue. They were determined that Adamis would have a proper
burial, that he would not be forgotten.
They bowed their heads and prayed.
"Have mercy," the Rev. Stanley Harakas chanted softly.
Adamis had no identification in his pocket when he was
found on the side of the highway near Weeki Wachee. He had only a bus
ticket from New York to Florida and a list of names.
An FHP trooper worked his way
through the names, eventually contacting a newspaper reporter in New York
City.
Adamis had gone to the reporter, Michael Pantziaros,
for help in February.
Adamis said he was 55 years old, sick, and had no place
to stay. He said his friends had forgotten him.
He said he immigrated to the
United States 15 years earlier to find a better life. He said he lost his
business selling clothes when he began having heart and kidney problems.
He said he had been hospitalized for two months.
He said he had many relatives in Greece and wanted to
return, but his doctor said he should not travel.
He said he lost his rented
room in Astoria, Queens, and that he had started sleeping in subway
stations. He said the police were constantly after him. He said he had
gone to several Greek agencies but no one would help him.
He told the reporter he felt
helpless and constantly thought about killing himself.
The reporter, Pantziaros,
tried to help. He wrote stories for his newspaper, the National Herald,
about Adamis. In them, people said Adamis' story highlighted the need for
an official Greek-American organization to help those who are homeless,
sick or poor.
People who read the paper, one
of the largest national dailies written in Greek, wanted to help. They
called Pantziaros and offered hundreds of dollars.
But the reporter could not find Adamis until April 13,
when he saw Adamis sitting outside a coin laundry in Astoria. He told
Adamis to stop by the office and pick up the list. Adamis did, and called
eight people for money.
No one seems to know why he decided to come to Florida.
He bought a ticket to Tampa and arrived in early May.
He also purchased a bicycle and rode north, to Hernando County.
Reporter Pantziaros learned of his death from
authorities. He called Harakas and asked if he could help bury Adamis.
Harakas promised to do what he could.
They are a small church, no
cantor or choir, just 40 families. They collected money for a bouquet of
white roses, and sought help from the county for his coffin and grave
site.
And they gathered at 10:30
a.m. Tuesday.
"From the way the world calculates things, Dinos Adamis
was a nobody," Harakas said. "No money, no job, no family, no relatives,
no house, no car, no possessions."
But Adamis was a somebody, and in some sense,
everybody, Harakas said.
"Before May 8, the people in Hernando County and in
particular, in our little mission church, didn't know he existed," Harakas
said. "Circumstances remind us that as human beings we belong to each
other."
After the service, the
congregation took Adamis to the Brooksville Cemetery and said goodbye to
the man they never knew. Harakas said he will return to the grave
periodically for memorial services.
He hopes to find enough money
for a headstone that would read: "I was a stranger, and you took me in."
-- Information from the National Herald was used in
this report. Jamie Jones can be reached at 352-754-6114. Send e-mail to
jjones@sptimes.com.
|
