Beyond the Yellow Uniform

The following story was written by Downtown Fort Worth Ambassador Nathan Bogan about one of his experiences working as a Block by Block Ambassador.

Ambassador Nathan Bogan met a street resident who made a lasting impression.

As a Downtown Fort Worth Ambassador, my job is to help people find their way, offer assistance and share a little Texas charm. Most encounters are brief and straightforward, but some stay with me long after they happen.

One afternoon, near a parking garage, I noticed an older man standing by a wall outlet. His phone was propped on his walker as it charged. His worn, black backpack hung loosely over the side of the walker, its seams fraying and fabric faded from years of use.

The man stood hunched slightly, gripping a nearby post. I noticed his legs trembled faintly, as though it took a great deal of effort just to stand there.

“Good morning,” I said as I approached. “How’s it going today?”

He glanced at me briefly, his face lined with age and wear, not saying a word.

“I’m an Ambassador,” I offered, trying to sound helpful. “If you need directions or anything else, just let me know.”

He remained silent, staring deeply into my eyes.

It was clear he wasn’t in the mood to talk, so I nodded and began to walk away. But before I got too far, I heard his voice call out behind me.

“Hey—wait a second.”

Turning back, I saw him waving me over. His expression had softened slightly, though his voice remained rough.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “I’m just old, grumpy and been through a lot. Didn’t mean to brush you off.”

“No problem,” I replied with a smile. “We all have our days.”

He shifted his weight slightly, still holding onto the walker for balance. “The name’s George,” he said, finally looking me in the eye. “I’m a Marine. Vietnam. I’ve seen it all.”

From there, the conversation unfolded. George told me about his time in the service, sharing snippets of his life as a Marine. “I used to jump out of airplanes,” he said, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “The thing is, by the time you’re halfway down, they’re already shooting at you. And when you land—well, that’s when the real fight begins.”

As he spoke, his grip on the walker tightened. “Standing here’s no picnic either,” he said with a dry chuckle. “I took a bullet over there. Almost didn’t make it. I’ve been shaking like this ever since. Some days, just staying on my feet feels like a battle.”

His words weren’t spoken with pity—just the matter-of-fact honesty of someone who had been through more than most.

Then, after a pause, George straightened up as best he could and looked me square in the eye. “You know what we Marines say? Oorah. Means ‘keep moving forward.’ Doesn’t matter how bad things get. Marines don’t quit. We never surrender.”

His words carried a weight that resonated deeply. It wasn’t just a motto—it was the way he lived his life, even now.

We talked for a little while longer, and I shared information about local shelters and food resources that might help. George listened, nodding thoughtfully.

“Thanks for stopping,” he said as I prepared to leave. “Most people don’t even look twice at me. I’m not the easiest guy to talk to, but I’m glad you did.”

A few days later, I spotted George again outside a convenience store. He was standing by his walker, his phone tucked into the pocket of his black backpack. When he saw me, he gave a faint smile and nodded.

“Hey there,” he said, lifting a hand in a small wave and shouted out to me. “Oorah.”

I yelled back. “Oorah.”

As I walked away, I reflected on the strength it must take to live each day as he does—not just carrying the weight of his past but finding a way to keep going, even when the simplest tasks are a struggle.

George reminded me of something important: resilience isn’t about perfection or grandeur. It’s about persistence, about refusing to quit even when life feels like a battlefield.

As an Ambassador, my job is to help people find their way. And George reminded me what being an Ambassador means, but most importantly, he helped me find a deeper understanding of what it means to endure, to stand tall—even when the world tries to knock you down—and to keep moving forward.