Hi, everyone. Jonathan here. Heavyweight will be back with a new episode next week. But in the meantime, we wanted to share with you an episode of another show that we really like. It's called Death, Sex, and Money, and it's hosted by Anna Sayle. On the show, Anna interviews her guests about the topics that we usually tend to shy away from in polite conversation, things like the titular, death, sex, and money. I recently sat down with Anna. As I was sitting here, I was jotting down some last-minute questions, and the first one that I wrote down was, Did you ask inappropriate questions as a child? I'm imagining you approaching your dad's friends and asking them how much they made for a living.

I don't think I did that. I definitely wondered.

Or how much sex they have, or when they were planning to die. Anna has a real gift with people, whether it's talking to a TV weatherman about losing his job after a sex photo leak, a new father about the surprising results of a paternity test, or to actress, Ellen Burston, about the illegal abortion she had at the age of 18. It's amazing what Anne is able to pull from her subjects.

The concrete questions that other interviewers might find too crass to ask, I just ask it. All of us deal with hard things and uncomfortable things, and rather than retreat into our own feelings of shame around it, let's create a little more conversation and connection. Yeah.

And I.

Think that you're a very good listener.

Thank you.

Just out of curiosity, parenthetically, did you have a schooling for that?

Listening school? Yeah. No, my school, I think, was being in a big family growing up. I was on the quiet side in a loud family. I think that trained me for it's like listening and being able to take in a lot. But also I feel like I'm maybe a little bit like a Cougar who's waiting for that opening, and then I'm going to strike.

It's very primal, it sounds like.

I know. I'm like, what's the metaphor? Someone who really wants a bloody piece of meat.

The episode we're about to play is about a professional mover in New York City.

Our producer, Zoe Azoulay, was thinking about episodes where we can catch people in a moment. So it feels like you're talking to them when something is happening. And she was like, movers are constantly doing that. They're showing up when people are at that moment of joining together, coming apart. It's changed. And so she started to just look around at New York City movers, and she found this mover named Adonis. What I think is really interesting about him, he's a professional mover. That's what he does for work. And alongside that, he advertises his services as being willing to show up and help survivors of domestic violence get out of unsafe situations for free.

Yeah. Well, I guess this is the part where I say, let's listen to the episode. And you can find Death, Sex and Money wherever you get your podcast.

Thank you. That was a very enthusiastic throw, I feel.

It's about as enthusiastic as I get. But I'll give it another go. Let's listen to this episode of Death, Sex and Money, which you can find wherever you get your podcasts. Coming up right after the break.

I am... Yeah, I'm 6'4, 248 pounds. My employees used the word brolic a lot when they see me pick up stuff. I literally would just pick a sofa up over my head while two of them are struggling with it. I'll just say, I got it. I'll just pick up the sofa bed over my head and start walking with it. They go, Oh, my God. He's so brolic.

This is Death, Sex, and Money. The show from WNYC about the things we think about a lot and need to talk about more. I'm Anna Sayle. Adonis Williams is a mover in New York City. A job he started more than 20 years ago when he saw a woman crying on the subway. She had two kids with her and all their stuff in trash bags.

I asked her what was wrong. She explained that she had to make a choice between leaving the bags of clothes and carrying the kids.

Adonis had a van and he offered to move her for free.

I'm that way. Even on the way here, I stopped to get me a cup of coffee, and it was a mother with her daughter in Duncan Donuts. It's a true story. And the little girl was crying because she wanted the strawberry sprinkled doughnut and her mother was just going in to get a coffee. I said, Ma'am, I'm going to pay for your coffee. I'm going to pay for a doughnut. And that's just the way I am. I see people are sad or crying. But I do have one rule. I don't take care of the homeless in other states. I travel too much. But if somebody comes up to me in a window in Texas or Tennessee, I don't give any money. I know it's sad, but I just can't take care of the world. But in New York City, if you come up to my window, I'll give you two dollars, five dollars, and that's every day, all day, anybody.

Adonis is often in other states because a lot of his moves are long distance, but they mostly start in New.

York City. One, two, three, lift on that side.

On a Saturday afternoon, a few months ago, Adonis was moving the belongings of Ms. Dixon. She had just retired from her job as a home health aide and was leaving the Bronx after many years. Producer Zoe Azule met them at a storage unit where they were packing up her stuff.

What's the moving plan today? Where are we going? We're going down south, North Carolina.

What's there?

Family. And what are you going to miss about New York? Not much. You want me to.

Sit in the middle? From the storage unit, they drove in Adonis's truck, Ms. Dixon riding shotgun, Zoe squeezed in the middle to pick up the rest of Ms. Dixon's things at her apartment.

1322. 1322, got you.

Adonis has lived in New York City his whole life. He knows each neighborhood and how to maneuver through them in a big truck.

Ms. Dixon, have you ever ate that Spanish restaurant right there? Which one? Right here. No, never. I guess you never ate there. I've seen you for a while back.

When they got to the apartment, there was not much left to pack up.

I had seven boxes in there. Only seven boxes over there? Yes, a fan and a TV. Oh, I don't have a business to take care of. They're already packed up anyway. Okay. You make me feel guilty about taking your money with such a small job. I'm not on the other end. I may have to give you some money. I have to pay you for the exercise today.

Over his 20 years in the moving business, Adanes has seen people in all sorts of transitional moments: retiring, getting married, being priced out. Sometimes a person is ready with their stuff in boxes, eager. Other times, Adanes and his team have to help a person pack. It's a mover's job to make this moment manageable, to compartmentalize, and help a person move on. This is not a service Adonis had.

Growing up. Well, I remember moving as a child between Harlem and the Bronx, and we never hired movers. I didn't even know. I would just come from school and we'd be in a new place. My dad took care of everything. And we just did it with pickup trucks, cars, whatever we could, where a relative could come by. We never ever hired a moving truck.

I talked to Adonis after he'd gotten Ms. Dixon's things to North Carolina. He came into our New York studio the morning before another move. It was still summer, Adonis' peak season, when he does about a move a day. He used to pack in three moves a day. That's a lot of flights of stairs, tight corners, and long drives.

I just did back to back, Florida, Texas, Tennessee, MassS Massachusetts, and now I have a Vermont coming up next week. I've been to every state except for Seattle, Washington, and Oregon.

When you are driving these long-haul moves, do you go by yourself?

Sometimes I do, or sometimes I pick up my dad. Yeah, my dad. He comes and he does the driving. At 70 years old. He's still a hell of a driver and still moves furniture and picks up boxes and stuff. He loves to go.

And are they still living in New York City?

No, my parents, eight years ago, moved to North Carolina, and I moved them. They said it's because I gave them the cheapest price.

Not because they wanted to patronize you.

You were the best price. I said we move them for free.

You won the bid with free.

Okay, got it. Yeah, I moved my parents out to North Carolina. I visit them anytime I do a move going, like I'm doing New York to Florida or New York to Georgia or New York to South Carolina, I always stopping and use my parents' places to hotel. But my dad still goes when I go up 95. He's always happy to put on his fatigues because that's what we were and he goes, Yeah. He likes the fact that when he is wearing his Vietnam hat and his fatigues, a lot of people will say, Thank you for your service. You know what I mean?

Yeah. And it's nice you get to watch those interactions. That's cool. You get to see that. I imagine when you enter into a home where someone is moving out, it means something in their life is changing. Can you tell the difference between a happy move and a sad move?

Absolutely. As a matter of fact, now I get the email, Adonis, you move me and let's say, this is the name Josh, into the apartment five years ago. We're now getting divorced, and I just want to know if you are able to help me move so they'll know the atmosphere I'm entering. I won't be like, Hey, how is everything going? It's a sad occasion for them because they're getting a divorce, you know what I mean? I go in there neutral, not taking any sides.

How often do you find that you need to offer some reassurance or some comfort for somebody who's having a sad move?

Usually every time. Every time you do the move, there is some they want to talk to you about it. You become the bartender or the taxi driver that they need to vent to or at least tell their side because everybody feels like, Oh, I'm not the bad person. I get some people, guys, both guys and girls that say, Don't say I really messed up. I cheated on him and got busted.

Do you ever find yourself sharing any of your ups and downs with someone who's having a hard time?

Absolutely. You can't go in and just hear about their life and not have to share part of your life with them. And that happens all the time. I tell them about my mistakes because at 54, I'm always older than the person that I'm moving.

When you come into someone's home and they are packing up all of their possessions, I imagine you see a lot of private items. You see the way people actually live instead of how they present on the street. Does anything surprise you now, having done this for 20 years, what you come across when you're packing up? In a bedroom, for example?

No, now I have on my questionnaire, when I send them a list of tips, moving tips, they'll please check under the beds for anything personal. Because a lot of times the apartments are so small, the rooms are so small that the bed takes up most of them and you can't move the bed left or right or nothing. It's just up against the wall. I ask them to check under the bed because usually whatever falls on the side of the bed or under the bed, they can't get it until the movers come and move the bed. I moved an Indian couple that had moved before and was familiar with them and everything. But this time, they were having a baby and they needed a bigger space. When we moved the bed, and a lot of the Indians and Asians, parents come on both sides when they're doing a move. Yes, they both come like it's an event. Whatever. They come help do the packing and maybe mine the baby, the small children, so the parents can do whatever they have to do. I got ready to take apart the bed, took the mattress off, lifted it up.

They're all talking to me. I moved the bed and some used condoms were all on the side of the bed. Used. Yeah, used. The girl was pregnant, which was the reason they were moving. The husband had no reason to use condoms. Everybody's staring at the room looking at each other except me. I just put the bed on the side and take it out. But there was a big argument in their language, and it didn't end well. She ended up staying at the place, and he ended up leaving, and it was a big argument. I said, Oh, man.

Oh.

Wow.

Oh, my goodness. I'm imagining for your clients who find you and reach out, you also have this very up-close view of how New York City neighborhoods are changing because you're noticing who's coming in and who's coming out. What are you noticing right now in New York? Is there anything different or is it the same march of expensive neighborhoods getting bigger and affordable neighborhoods getting smaller and the racial makeup of neighborhoods changing as that flips?

What I'm noticing is nobody, and I mean, nobody in New York City can live alone. It's very rare for me to move a place. Let's say, even if it's a one-bedroom, where there's just one person living there just paying the rent. Everybody has to have help. Yeah, the rent is so expensive. I don't care what job. I've moved lawyers and doctors and people in advertisement. I once moved a group of girls on Wall Street in a very, very expensive building. It was seven of them. They had so many walls put up split in this place. It's like going through a maze to get the stuff out. They could afford the rent. We had gotten there early, and so there was still a few of the people sleeping. There were still a few of the people sleeping, there was actually a girl who slept by the door. The little hallway that leads to the door was a bedroom. So she had to fold up her bed and move it so we could start coming in and out. I was like, Yeah, that's real. Really trying to pay the rent with the seven girls in here.

Does it ever get you down, seeing how hard it is for people to find a comfortable place to live and to be able to afford to stay there?

No, it never gets me down or anything like that. But it makes me realize that I'm not the only one in that boat. Because growing up, we were very, very, very, very, and if I could throw two more verys on there, very poor. Yeah, very poor. We always thought white people lived better than us. You know what I mean? We lived in the projects, and they lived in the Tribeca and Gramercy Park and all those places. But now that I move people, you say to yourself, Wow, people in New York City really, really suffer in their own way. You know what I mean? They just put up a good facade.

Coming up, Howedonus got into the moving business and why, for the first five years, he didn't charge.

For it. The frequency of the phone calls where I was trying to do Friday, Saturdays, and Sundays, people that are being abused can't wait for the weekend. Then I found myself trying to take care of it in the morning before I went to work.

This is Death, Sex, and Money from to NYC, I'm Anna Sayle. By the time Adonis Williams was 30, he'd gone through lots of jobs: supermarket clerk, security guard, summer youth counselor, and dental assistant. But money was tight. He had two sons, one who lived with him. That's why he bought his first van in 2000. He needed a car and a Dodge Caravan from the mid-nineties was what he could afford.

I had that van because that's the only thing that they would give me on my credit.

I see. I'm picturing like a minivan, which is what when you've got a couple of kids in the back, but for you, it was the car loan you.

Could get. Yeah, that's what I could do. I started off in the front with the Dodge Charger, and then I saw the Dodge pickups, and I started thinking to myself, I had my son with me at the time, but they walked me way, way, way past all that stuff to the back of the yard with this van with the leaves on it, opened it up and he said, This is what we got for you. I took it. I took it.

Then September 11th happened.

The government was looking for people to look at the X-rays and stuff. I was able to identify a lot of small stuff, and they were impressed with that. The government hired me to train people at the TSA to read X-rays.

He worked long hours at LaGuardia. One night after work, he was taking the subway home and noticed the woman with her two kids carrying trash bags with their belongings. She told him she'd been staying in a shelter because her partner was abusive, but she'd had to leave the shelter. That night, she had nowhere to go.

I came back with the van and I got her and the two kids, and I got them pizza and Hawaiian punch. Yeah, and took them to my house, and I gave them the bedroom, and I used my living room sofa bed. That's when I realized that in the shelter system, they don't really help you get in or out.

The next morning, he moved her and her kids and their things back into the shelter system after they'd reapplied for a slot. Adomas decided he wanted to help more victims of domestic violence move out of unsafe situations, a service he still provides today. He placed an ad on Craigslist and put the word out.

I got some cards and then I went around and put them to the shelters. Now that the shelters aren't easy to find. They're meant that way so the abuses don't find the shelters. For the first five years, I didn't make any money. I didn't get any money and I didn't accept any money for the first five years of moving.

Oh, so it wasn't like a job. No, it was a service that you did.

I also have a Facebook page. Still call that a Facebook page.

How much were you helping people move?

I was only doing the job on the weekends, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. At the Department of Homeland Security, I had 10-hour shift, so I finished my 40 hours in four days. I had Friday, Saturdays, and Sundays off. I had the ad. If I got the phone call, I would just move people. Now, the type of move I was doing with a person with bags of clothes, they even put dishes and forks and spoons and bags of clothes, I mean, garbage bags. They would take in a mattress and maybe a TV, maybe a TV. But those are desperate people trying to get out of a situation where either the abuser was locked up or at work or something like that. I rushed in just me and my son, at the time, my son was only nine years old.

It.

Was just me and him.

I want to make sure I'm understanding the families who are trying to get away from violence in the home. Is it primarily... Do you encounter them when they're trying to get to a shelter or moving between shelters? Or sometimes are you coming in when the abuser is away, sneaking in, trying to get them out safely?

Yeah, it varies. Now, even sometimes the abuse is still there. But now we're talking 20 years later, and I have a crew now, not just me and my nine-year-old son. Now when they see four or five big guys come through the door, the guy's sitting there quiet, and he doesn't see anything. We don't give them the meme face or nothing like that.

Is there anyone in your life, Adonis, that before you were moving survivors of domestic violence, did you know anyone? Was anyone in your life somebody who'd been through a dangerous relationship?

Well, my parents, my mom and my dad used to go through that. You know what? The weird thing is when my mom and dad were fighting and my mom would be bruised up. It was no name for it. We got a beating from my dad. My mom got a beating from dad. You know what I mean? It was just the way it was. When the police came, nobody got arrested. They would say, Take a walk around the block, or, You got to cool off. They were veterans also, and they understood what he was going through, so they give him a break. But once we got older, I would say, was between 17 and 20. And me and my older brother could challenge my father. Because by that time, we lived in Harlem in the Bronx, and we were street hard. Even though I sound like an easygoing, mellow guy, I have never lost a fight on the streets of Harlem or the Bronx. And I dare anybody to say so because I come see them. But yes, when I put up my dukes, there was no walking away from that. The person always ended up on the ground and people had to pull me off from him.

With me and my brother, my dad, he went in after my mom. And then me and my brother closed, got my mom out of there and closed the door. When we came back out that day in 1992, dad never did it again. And he gave up the drinking and smoking and stuff like that over the years. He's a great guy now. But yeah, he was military trained. It wasn't an easy fight, I tell you that. The military, I learned that day, trained them soldiers very, very well. But we had youth and stamina on our side, and we prevailed.

92. You were in your early 20s.

When that happened? Yeah, I'm born in '69. So '89, it's like '22.

It's interesting you remember the year. You remember when.

That happened. Yeah, you remember the day you had to go up against the most powerful man on the planet. Because there's no kid who doesn't think his dad is not the most powerful, the best person on the planet. There's not one kid out here. I seen my pop beat up grown men in the street, just beat them up. Because that's the way it was in Harlem, in the Bronx. You had a problem with somebody and you step out of the bar. I seen him take on two and three guys like, What am I doing? I'm 10 years old. My pop told me to do something. I did it. I saw what the other guys got, you know what I mean? Yeah.

Have you and your dad talked about that?

Recently? No. I've never talked to my dad about that. But during a drive-ons, my dad had asked me about why I never cursed. He asked me those. He wanted to know why I never cursed, and he wanted to know why I never used drugs or smoked or anything. We had a conversation about that, and I explained to him. He wanted to know what did I do when my mom kicked me out. Because when I was 24, 25, my mom made me leave.

What did you do?

I lived sometimes. I've lived sometimes in the same building where she put me out, but on the roof area. I still went to work from there until a friend of mine had a studio apartment and he was getting married and he gave me the studio apartment. That was my first apartment in Harlem.

Why did your mom ask you to leave?

She found that I had a kid that I didn't tell her about. Yeah, my first son. She was upset and she put me out.

What did you say when your dad asked you about why you don't curse and why you didn't do drugs?

Well, I told my dad I didn't do drugs because I saw what it did to him. You know what I mean? I had a cigarette smoking, the drinking, how it made him, and I was afraid to become that person.

I.

Don't smoke. To this day, I do not hit women. I do not hit children, and I do not hit animals. I never once gave my kids a spanking, and I never had an argument with a girl in a relationship, and I never hit her. I don't hit animals. They can't defend themselves.

That makes me understand, Adonis, when you describe being on the subway and seeing a mom with her kids struggling, it makes me understand maybe a little bit about the depth of feeling you might have to want to help look out and help a mom who needed help.

Yeah. A few.

Years in, Adonis realized he could make more money moving than working airport security, and he started his business.

In New York City, he can get $950 to 1,200. Just for the one move. That money started to look way better than waiting two weeks for a $1,200 check when I can get that in one day. The math was pretty easy.

For me. You mentioned your son, who's now an adult. Are you a single man now, Adonis?

Yeah, I have two boys. One is 29 and one is 33. I'm not married. But I'm not single. It's not like I don't have a girlfriend.

You're in a relationship?

Yeah, I'm in a relationship.

Where did you meet your current partner?

I was doing a move, and she just walked to me on the street looking for a job and taught her to wrap furniture. She was terrible at the job, but a pretty girl. I was like, You don't have to work anymore, man. That's the way that happened. I don't think It's just... I think technically, even though we've been together like five years, I think technically I could still get out of it because I had never officially said I'm your boyfriend. She just have to be around me when I'm going to the movies and dinner.

She just happens to be there. So you don't live together?

No, I don't live together. I don't want to live with anybody anymore. I have two separate moms, so I've been through that before, and it's not good. The breakup isn't good. They know too much about you when it's time to end.

I wonder, Adonis, when you come home to your place and you look around at the things that you have, when your work is to see all the stuff that people have. Do you find that the objects that you keep in your house, are there a few things that you really treasure? Or do you find that you're less attached to stuff?

Yeah, I am very less attached to stuff. I don't think I have anything in my house that I pay for, not even my own bed. I got a nice, comfy bed that costs a lot of money that I didn't pay for. I got a big-screen TV. One of those nice curve TVs. I don't know what they call it, maybe 2,500 these days. I got it for free.

How did you get that nice TV for free?

One of the clients, they were upgraded or they're moving, like they're consolidating, they're moving. They got married or in a relationship, they're moving. They don't need two beds. They don't need two TVs. You know what I mean? I get a lot of stuff.

All the time. That makes sense because for people who are just trying to be done with moving stuff, like you taking that off their hands.

Yeah. I used to try and sell it, but it's just too much hassle to sell it. I donate all the furniture to victims of domestic violence. I still have my ad up. I will take a picture of it, and if it can move out, I'll deliver it for free.

When you think about the next 5, 10 years, how long do you think you'll be working on moving sights and doing the moving yourself?

I think I could go, based on my father, I can go at least to 75.

So another.

20 years? Yeah. I'm going to be the person to point the finger to lift that up probably in the next five years, if not sooner, as opposed to actually doing the work myself. I actually jump. It was a four-flight walk up. I take a flight myself to this day. And when those guys complain about what they're lifting and how heavy something is, I'll always go, Come on, I'm double your agent. I'm still doing it. I'm not even sweating yet. But when I sit, and I hope they never hear this podcast, when I sit in that truck, I'm going, Why the hell did I do that? Oh, my God. Why am I still doing it? But then when I open that truck door, I'm like, Let's get back to work.

That's Adonis Williams, a mover in New York City who now lives in Queens. Death, sex, and money is a listener-supported production of WNYC Studios in New York. This episode was produced by Zoe Azoulet. The rest of our team is Lilliana Maria-Percy-Rouiz, Amy Pearl, Lindsay Foster-Thomas, and Andrew Dunn. Thank you to Jason Isaac for Engineering Help. The Reverend John Delour and Steve Lewis wrote our theme music. We're @deathsexmoney on Instagram and subscribe to our weekly newsletter at deathsexmoney. Org/news letter. Thank you to Laurie McCaskel in Brooklyn, New York for being a member of Death, Sex and Money and supporting us with a monthly donation. Join Christine and support what we do here by going to deathsexmoney. Org/donate. When Adonis does retire, he plans to move out of New York City to the country to live close to his parents.

It's nothing like looking at the sky and listening to the crickets and having your dog. They have two dogs. But the dogs love me. When I come by, they recognize me right away. They even jump up and down like little kids. You wouldn't believe these two dogs. They didn't jump up and down. They get the wagon. And they're I'm trying to get me a dog and live out my days in a rocking chair like my dad.

I'm Anna Sayle, and this is Death, Sex and Money from W. N. Y. C.