"He Was Homeless, He Didn't Make the Obituaries."

Homeless shouldn't mean second-rate, sub-par, or afterthought. But all too often, it does.

I was saddened to read about a homeless man in Florida who died earlier this year, a victim of substance abuse. His name was Gary Gokey. His friends and family acknowledge that- like any of us- he had many imperfections, like his alcohol abuse. Still, he was a decent and loving man whom they cared for deeply.

Thing is, I didn't read his obituary. Nobody did. Seems his life wasn't initially deemed "newsworthy" enough for print space.

It didn't matter that he had a small community of friends who appreciated his company, his kindness, and his generosity. It didn't matter that his death was untimely and shocking. Sure, they said, he had a drinking problem. But he'd give you the shirt off of his back if you needed it.

But he was homeless. A "bum" who died in the woods.

One of his friends from the encampment wrote to the local paper soon after his passing: "He was homeless so you won't find his passing in the obits. He will be mourned by a lot of people, some with homes and most of them homeless."

Gokey's missing obituary seems to be a small statement of what our society tends to value; having a home is more important than being a good, decent person. Luckily, Gokey's friends know that an obituary is not necessary to remember and appreciate their friend, as evidenced in the picture above.

But I can't help but wonder how they feel knowing that their passing will likely be met with similar indifference.