There are more than 54 years worth of crow’s feet around Connie Bobbitt’s puffy, half-shut eyes.
A diabetic, the strapping 6-foot-1-inch, 300-pound ex-moving man says he sleeps fitfully these days. At night he kicks the covers off his bed at the New Britain homeless shelter where he’s lived since May, along with his grown son who is dying of AIDS.
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