- November 18, 2024
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Herman Baker knows he’s exactly where he’s meant to be. How does he know?
God told him.
That place is outside the store front of Kennedy’s All-American Barber Club along Park Avenue, where Baker shines shoes six days a week.
Dressed in a sharp black-and-white outfit of slacks, dress shirt, vest and a flat cap, Baker blends right in with the red-and-white Americana storefront of Kennedy’s, like a character from an old film.
Baker is an upbeat shoe shiner who will ask anybody how their day is — and that’s exactly why God put him there, he says.
“Hey captain, how ya doin?’,” says Baker to a random passerby.
A customer takes a seat on the raised chair along Park Avenue and Baker goes to work.
“Since I got you in the seat, let’s make it dance,” Baker says.
Layers of leather lotion are carefully yet quickly applied over a pair of brown leather shoes and rubbed in with a flurry of swipes from his buff towel.
He does a thorough job with multiple coats of wax before giving them a few strokes with two thick-bristle brushes.
The shoes come out good as new, and Baker is promptly paid and tipped.
“I strive to be the best,” Baker says. “No matter what the outcome is, I strive to be the best shoe shiner I can be.
“I want a man to have a good clean shine.”
GOD’S CALLING
The self-employed shoe shiner from Louisiana has been shining shoes along Park Avenue since 2012.
Baker came to Orlando in 2011 and started shining shoes, while also working a part-time job washing dishes at a restaurant across the street from the Amway Center. He was homeless at the time, sleeping places where you wouldn’t want to sleep, he says. He’d get a hotel room as often as he could with the money he had to shower.
It was a difficult road as Baker learned the ways of shining shoes, doing it for the first time outside the Bank of America Financial Center near the bus station.
“I messed up on a few pairs of shoes, but in the process, the Lord cleaned up my mistakes, and people weren’t mad,” Baker says. “I was willing to do whatever it takes to straighten up the mess up. I’ve been rolling ever since.”
But Baker hasn’t forgotten why he started shining shoes — it was all planned, he says.
“I heard the voice of God say, ‘Shine shoes,’” Baker says.
“I said ‘Well, this must be the calling that he wants me to do.’ Nobody taught me how to shine shoes. I got advice from one or two people, and I just went to doing what I was doing.”
BROUGHT BACK TO LIFE
Chances are that if you pass Baker’s shoe shine station, he’ll ask how you’re doing. Maybe he’ll even give you a nickname like “captain,” “champion” or “m’lady.”
It draws a smile more often than not, Baker says.
Over time, Baker came to realize why he was placed in Downtown Winter Park. God was shaping him to be a servant — someone who can use his position to bring an encouraging word to someone who needs it.
“My job is to love everybody whether you like me or you don’t like me,” Baker says. “I’m going to love you all the way to the kingdom. I stand on it.”
Baker understands that just like the sidewalks and streets wear down a man’s shoes, the ups and downs of life can wear on a person’s soul. Take it from someone who has wandered the streets looking for place to sleep, Baker says.
Realizing that, he’ll go out of his way to ask how you’re doing. A simple “hello” can pick somebody up, Baker says.
“It’s just something to bring laughter or a smile to your face,” Baker says. “You can say, ‘OK, my day was going bad, but that shoe-shine man just brought me back to life.’
“That means a whole lot to me knowing that I did my job. … It would make my day if somebody would turn around and say, ‘I’m doing just fine.’”