Free Showers

I interviewed Nicky Crawford this morning over the phone. He’s one of many folks across Georgia quietly doing kind, extraordinary work for others.

Nicky grew up in Alabama, made his way through college, and eventually settled into a long, steady career in the Atlanta area, where he and his wife raised three children. By most measures, a good life, well lived. But somewhere in the winding down of his working years, something happened that would change the direction of his life.

“I read a news story about a man in another state who had been collecting toiletries—soap, shampoo, deodorant, lotion, washcloths—to hand out to homeless folks in his community. Sounds like a wonderful gesture, right? Well, it was. One day, a homeless man handed the bag back to the man and said simply, ‘I appreciate this kindness, but I have no place to shower, so these won’t help me.’ That stopped the man cold. And so he set about building a portable shower unit for people in need in his community.”

That story stopped Nicky Crawford cold, too. He thought about it for days. Wondered if the Lord was trying to tell him something. But life got busy, as it does, and he tucked the idea away.

Two years later, on the eve of his retirement, he thought about the man and the shower trailer again. With his own money—many thousands of dollars—Nicky bought his own shower trailer. No grand plan or committee. Just a man, a calling, and a trailer. He and his wife stocked up on soap, shampoo, towels, underwear, and socks. Then, almost as if on cue, Grady Hospital in Atlanta reached out to him, out of the blue. For those unfamiliar, Grady is a massive facility on Atlanta’s southside, surrounded by one of the city’s largest homeless populations. Many of the “unhoused” come through those doors for emergency medical care. Administrators had heard through the grapevine about Nicky’s shower trailer and wanted to take a look and perhaps propose a partnership.

The following Tuesday, Nicky and his wife set up in a parking area and opened their doors. They put out signs that said, “Free Showers.”

Only four people came. Nicky was a little discouraged, but the Grady folks told him to be patient. And they were right. By the fourth Tuesday, 20 people came to the shower trailer to bathe. Today, four years later, over 50 people come each week to shower.

But the story doesn’t end there. One afternoon, a woman emerged from the trailer fully dressed and freshly showered—but she still smelled bad. That’s when it hit Nicky: A shower was only half the battle. These folks needed clean clothes, too. And laundromats cost money they simply don’t have.

So Nicky Crawford did what Nicky Crawford apparently does. He bought a used school bus, installed continued from page

seven washers and seven dryers, ran the plumbing and generators, and now he hauls that bus—right alongside his three-stall shower trailer—to Grady, transitional housing facilities, and battered women’s shelters in the Atlanta area.

His nonprofit is called Flowing with Blessings, and well, it’s flowing with blessings! He says people thank him constantly for blessing them. He just shakes his head.

“The truth is, they are a blessing to me. Without them, I’d just be a man with a trailer. I love helping them—the least of these. It fills me with joy.”

And he’s convinced that God wanted him to do this.

“When God talks, I listen,” he says. “We should all listen to God.”

No judgment. No paperwork. Just showers; clean, dry clothes, blankets, and sleeping bags; and one man quietly restoring dignity to those who are in a bad place in life. Nicky Crawford treats them like people—like fellow humans—because he cares. Shouldn’t we all?