Chewing on the end of an unlit cigar, clampinghis hand tightly onto his newly found confidante'sshoulder, as if to prevent flight, he'll declare,"I'm going to tell you a story you'll neverbelieve..."

His repertoire is broad, but obviouslyunchanging.

As other residents pass by, they yell out tohim, asking if he has told the story of hisnear-ordainment and the one about his polyps yet,or if the story of his commendation from thesuperintendent of schools in sixth grade hasimpressed suitably.

Branewski is inured to the criticism of hisneighbors. He turns a deaf ear, and mutters onlythat he wishes there were more young people aroundto talk to.

He is not alone in that wish. "There are a lotof old people here. People who are too tired toobe young. We are not like that," Price said,adding that she wants to talk to people who arestill young.

The only visitors to the center are elderlymembers of the community who have the time tovolunteer, said Gleason. "Other people don't reactto our sign," she said, "Not as much as we'dlike."

But the residents have not lost hope. "We'llstay out here most days until the weather getscold," said Berbaum, "People might stop if theysee us, but if they don't see us they'll neverstop.