A squib in the police blotter said police arrested a man named Timothy Barfield on a ton of charges. Does that name ring a bell with you?

Timothy Barfield is the name of the homeless man then-Mayor Anthony Silva unexpectedly brought onstage to his 2015 State of the City Address.

Silva made a big show of caring about Barfield, though the following winter I found Barfield living under a bridge.

The Barfield in the news was in serious trouble. Police alleged he tried to hit an officer while screeching off from a traffic stop; then fled on foot; allegedly tangled with officers; had to be shocked with a stun gun; and allegedly had a gun, though he’s a felon.

It turns out that man is Barfield’s son. Through family who attended his arraignment I tracked down Barfield the elder.

“It’s nice to hear from someone from the old school,” Barfield said when I called. “Way back then.”

Three years may not seem like way back then. But then, a lot has happened in Barfield’s life since 2015.

“I’m blind now,” Barfield said. Barfield is only 53. When last we met, his eyesight had been normal.

Barfield invited me to visit.

No longer homeless, Barfield now lives on East Bianchi Road, in the two-bedroom apartment of his son’s fiancee. Inidya Barfield, 26 (she’s taken the Barfield name). Inidya is two weeks away from giving birth to the younger Barfield’s son.

This means the father will not be at his child’s birth.

Inidya showed me past a security screen door into a half-furnished living room with clean floors and two plastic-covered sofas. A TV was running. On one sofa sat Barfield.

“I had a stroke,” Barfield said. “But I’m doing all right. I’m still healthy. Just can’t see.”

Barfield was dressed in slippers and loungewear. Inidya’s two happy toddlers hopped about. She shooed them upstairs.

“It’s been difficult, difficult ya’know, not seeing things,” Barfield said. “I can just barely see things now, like shadow. But I still get around.”

He shared good news. “I don’t do drugs no more. I hardly even drink even a beer every two weeks, maybe a month,” he said.

I congratulated Barfield. Sobriety is quite an accomplishment.

The story emerged. Barfield had been addicted to crystal meth. “I lost pretty much everything when I was down there under the bridge, the car, the tent …”

But he kept doing crystal meth. Evidently Barfield’s return to homelessness had as much to do with his choices as with Silva’s lack of commitment.

Barfield’s crystal meth use continued until he suffered a series of strokes. On top of blinding him, the strokes half-paralyzed his left arm. Barfield flexed that arm and his clawed hand to show me their limited articulation.

“Look at me now, man,” he said. “I’m broken down.”

After the stroke blinded him, and his discharge from the hospital, Barfield decided enough was enough. He got a ride from his camp under the bridge to Inidya’s apartment, which is around the corner from his son’s.

He materialized at Inidya’s door, barefoot, with no belongings, clad only in a hospital clothes. Inidya took him in.

“Because I didn’t want him in the streets,” she said. “I didn’t feel like that’s for him.” She added: “Me and my father, we don’t have a bond. Me and him, we have a bond.”

At Inidya’s place Barfield listens to crime shows, or plays with the children (Inidya cares for her fiancée’s two children as well as her own). They shop for his clothes at Goodwill.

Inidya cooks and cleans. She also works two jobs. Once a month she takes Barfield downtown to get his disability check from a payee, taking care to give Barfield’s old haunts a wide berth. Occasionally the family has an outing at Victory Park.

A young boy scampered in from outside. The boy carried an electronic tablet. Inidya swooped down on him. “Give me that tablet. You’re not allowed to take that tablet outside.” She sized him up. “You’re dirty. Go wash your hands.”

It seemed like Inidya was the stable center of a distressed family. I felt admiration for her. Working two jobs, caring for five people, giving birth without the father …

“I’m stressed but I’m going to get through it,” Inidya said. “Taking it day by day.”

Prosecutors have offered the younger Barfield a plea deal, Inidya said: 14 years. He may miss a lot of birthdays.

“Praying for him,” she said. “Sometimes prayer works.”

"Prayer works all the time,” Barfield said.

So Barfield is doing better, all things considered. But then life did not merely fire a shot across his bow; it fired a cannonball straight into his hull. That’s what it takes for some people to change.

“Stay away from drugs," Barfield said. “Drugs will get you down, and they will keep you down.”

Contact columnist Michael Fitzgerald at (209) 546-8270 or michaelf@recordnet.com. Follow him at recordnet.com/fitzgeraldblog and on Twitter @Stocktonopolis.