Angel of Harlem

One day on the subway I saw a homeless man who brought me to tears for some reason. I thought maybe it was the emotions of the day, it was October 24 (the anniversary of my brother's death), but there was something about him that made me smile and cry at the same time. The man was really big, not fat, just a big man. He was really tall and broad. He had on a black hat, green pants, a black and a jacket. His shoes had holes in them, and he sat straight up with his hands on his knees staring straight ahead. There was something about the look on his face though that made him look very gentle and kind. His eyes looked sad but at the same time happy. He must have smelled because no one was sitting within a few seats of him on the train. Almost a week later, I saw him again on the train in the exact same spot. Then one day as I was getting of the train for work, I saw a homeless man sitting on a bench on the platform. I looked at him, but I was in a hurry so I kept going not really thinking. Then a couple of days later I saw him again, and I realized it was the same man. How many times had I just passed him by. I have now named him the Angel of Harlem, and I want to try and figure out a way to approach him. Maybe I'll take a friend with me, but I want to know his story. I took a picture to remind myself. It's from the opposite side of the station, but that's him.