Lothar Patten's nearly sixty-year life was for the most part ordinary. After military service, however, he had to endure poverty, homelessness, mental illness, and bouts of alcoholism. But it was toward the end of his life that he achieved a small amount of international fame, and as any of his friends would tell you, a lot of love from the city of Portsmouth, New Hampshire.

Lothar Patten was born in Germany in 1949. His parents, a janitor and housewife, came to America in 1954.

After military service (1970-1973) that took him through Fort Dix and Valley Forge and ended in his home state of Maine, Lothar took a series of jobs including golf caddy, hospital worker and woodworker from Miami to York, Maine. He married and had a daughter Kristina, but after a pinched nerve ended his hospital job, Lothar's marriage ended in divorce, he took to alcoholism, and he lost his home.

He spent much of his time in the Maine woods and began to meet ghosts, gods and saints. Eventually he made it to Portsmouth, New Hampshire, residing in a cemetery opposite the Portsmouth Herald and then in the South Cemetery, in the concealing woods by the water. Lothar then took up residence at the Crossroads shelter, an occasionally rough-and-tumble waypoint for people who had become homeless through simple unemployment as well as mental illness and dependency.

Lothar stopped drinking and found public housing in 2000. His life had stabilized, and his Social Security disability check afforded him enough comfort to live from month to month.

Caffe Kilim, Portsmouth's legendary coffee shop and a community hub, became Lothar's hangout. People from all walks of life and social strata frequented the Caffe, and one day UNH professor James Tucker met Lothar and struck up a conversation about golf. Tucker was fascinated by Lothar's story and the two agreed to film Lothar's biography.

The story began in Lothar's old haunts, including the cemeteries and the bridge to New Castle, one of New Hampshire's wealthiest towns.  However, when the duo filmed a John Kerry rally, Lothar was able to ask Kerry what he would do about the homeless situation.  This gave them the idea to document the entire New Hampshire primary season in 2003.

Lothar and James took to the streets of Portsmouth whenever any rallies and tours were hosted, and in the wintery months they accumulated a treasure trove of the democratic process in action.  It had to be democratic with a capital D, though; despite his moniker "The Nice Man", the Secret Service deemed Lothar a security risk and turned down his request to film George Bush.

After the footage was all put together, it showed a whirlwind of political activity, often with Lothar at the very center of it.  He met Wesley Clark, Chris Dodd, John Kerry, George Stephanopoulos, James Carville, Carol Moseley-Braun, and many interviewers and cameramen. 

The two highlights for Lothar were the cultivation of a friendship with Joe Lieberman during repeat visits and a chance filming with one of Hollywood's most famous couples. This writer couldn't believe who they were; the video above will surprise you too.

After Lothar's movie was put together, it was shown in the city's Music Hall, one of America's culturally richest venues. After its positive reception, James began burning the movies one by one, and Lothar would put each DVD in a case with a photocopied jacket and sell them for $20 each. Sometimes he would settle for $15 or lend the movie to a friend in need. He'd always get them back.

Just before the movie came out, Lothar received a typewriter from Operation Blessing, and he was able to write his daily thoughts between cups of coffee, trips downtown and to the Portsmouth Library.  Between his movie, writings, and his uplifting presence at Caffe Kilim and Breaking New Grounds, The Nice Man was becoming a much-loved local celebrity.  Local publications like The Wire and the Portsmouth Herald did features on him and he was featured in New England Chronicle and on WMUR in Manchester.

The movie was shown in Los Angeles, where it won a Cheap Shot Film Festival documentary award, and was even shown in Budapest, Hungary and Germany.

Eventually Lothar took to MySpace and began blogging, not for profit, but to reach out to his friends across the city, and then across the world.  Using a picture of him that I took at my old roommate's house, he began selling t-shirts like hotcakes, and even more of the city came to know him and love him when they finally caught up to the smiling face on the shirt.

An attempt at filming the 2008 election primaries yielded some footage, but busy schedules for both filmmakers shelved the project.  Lothar didn't mind; he had fought the problems and illnesses in his life, and won.  In his last months, The Nice Man basked in the kindness and friendship of hundreds if not over a thousand people.

As Lothar was crossing the street, on his way back from Caffe Kilim on November 23, 2008, an unknown car clipped his bike, knocking him over.  The scare caused a heart attack.  A friend managed to comfort Lothar before medical services arrived, but he later died.

Hundreds of people showed for his funeral at Saint John's Church, a place that along with Caffe Kilim was a love of his life.

In December 2006, Lothar gave me his typewritten 225-page journal detailing his daily life as "The Nice Man Cometh" brought him to local fame.  After using a rickety old scanner,  proofreading every page with my friend Annie B., starting a failed Blogger version, and sending the journal to Sri Lanka, where an assistant put up half of it, what he gave me to show the world is complete.

Lothar's story, as he comes to local and low-key national fame, can be found at Lotharsstory.com.