Staying at the mission was a good place to be. The other guys called me "Pops", as I seemed to be a bit older than some others. We worked to keep our minds stimulated by reading, playing chess, and thinking up trivia games. We worked to keep our bodies healthy by walking and trying to eat well. But, there was one problem. I couldn't stay at the mission forever. In fact, there was a six-month time limit, and I hit that sometime in mid-March.
I had been suffering from constant pneumonia at the mission. I would go to the ER to get helped, which would work for about two weeks, and then the pneumonia would come back. I coughed all the time. It was pretty bad. They even thought I might have lung cancer, but thankfully I didn't. I really think the pneumonia came from being around a lot of people in close quarters along with some mold in the room, but I had to move out.
The winter shelter was still open, and would be for a couple more weeks. It was open to all homeless people, both male and female. Of course, the males were separated from the females, but we saw each other each morning. There were about 200 guys in the shelter, which was doubled from those in the mission. Most of my friends were there, too, so we had a good time. Except for the time one of my friends got beat up by a guy, when my friend complained his radio was too loud. Or, the time when I guy brought a dummy grenade into the shelter; put it in a sock; and beat another guy with it. There was always a little violence with being homeless, but no more than any other community. You just had to watch your back and not provoke. Pretty simple stuff.
Being as big as it was, I had to take showers at 3am by choice. Otherwise, I would not be clean, or else I would have to find a public restroom to take a sink bath. That happened a few times. We got pretty good at knowing which public restrooms we could use. One guy knew where all the outside taps were on the sides of the buildings downtown. I didn't get that bad.
The shelter closed up April 1st. Then, you had to fend for yourself. But, you had enough friends to fend with, too. More later.
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
The Mission
People have asked me what was it like to be homeless. It is hard to explain. Some people say it is like being in jail, but I have never been in jail. My church's choir sang in a prison once, but it was not the same as what I experienced being homeless. I did visit a friend, who was in jail, but it still was not the same as what I experienced being homeless. So, what was it like? I suppose it was like being in a prison without guards or walls.
There is a certain stigma to being homeless. Society views you as a bum, a loser, a hobo, a drunk, an addict, mentally ill, and a whole host of other descriptions. While it is true that some homeless are addicts or mentally ill, they are all people. They breathe in and breathe out. They have beating hearts. Many have education, and most had jobs. Even some homeless work while being homeless, but they don't make enough to support themselves. Many give blood to make plasma, so they can get some money, and sick people can get help. But, one thing about being homeless is that it needs to be experienced to fully understand it. I am not suggesting that everyone go through what I did, but one needs to be a little more compassionate and not generalize.
When I moved into the mission, I had no idea what awaited me. One thing you must learn rather quickly are the rules. Most of the rules are unwritten, so it is best to follow for a few days, before you get the hang of it. In the mission, they stress spiritual goals, which I found to be good. Although, the preachers they brought in taught a lot of different things and some contradicted others, so I could see where one could get a little confused. But, the ultimate message was the same. You cannot do it on your own. You need help. And, that help is with God. I was also exposed to black spiritual music. Some I kind of liked. Others got old real fast. But, the music was pure. And, it came from the heart.
I had been in the mission for a few days, when my life was threatened. I was suffering from depression and felt little hope for getting better. Many of the unwritten rules came from those who had been in jail. One of those rules was not to approach someone from behind. I did that, and a guy got very mad at me and threatened to kill me. I told him to go ahead. I had nothing to live for. He was kind of taken aback by my response, but I was so mad at him that a couple of other guys had to restrain me. It was very tense. Eventually, both of us cooled off. The next day, I saw the guy sitting alone on the street, and I went over to talk to him. He apologized for his actions, and I did too. We got to talking, and we found that we both had a lot in common. We became friends after that. Another one of those unwritten rules came up: get some friends.
You can't survive on the street without friends. Some try to do it with the friends they had before becoming homeless. That is good, if you can do that, but the best friends are those who are experiencing what you are. In my case, I had about five friends who I hung out with. These guys became my support group. We didn't do everything together, but we knew each one had each other's back. Some guys left the group, and others joined in, but it was very important to have someone you knew you could depend on. The homeless population is a community, much like any other community. There is a wide range of folks in the community from the very educated to the ones with no education. From the ones that had good-paying jobs to the ones that worked menial labor. From the ones with no addictions to those who were alcoholics or drug addicts. From those sane to those mentally ill. But, I made many life-long friends there. And, even though I am not homeless now, I still go to the places where I see some of my homeless buddies, and we check up on one another. I also have made it my life's goal to give back to a life I had for a little over a year. I have seen the goodness of others, and I have seen the distain of others. I prefer to go with the goodness.
God bless the homeless for opening my eyes to life.
There is a certain stigma to being homeless. Society views you as a bum, a loser, a hobo, a drunk, an addict, mentally ill, and a whole host of other descriptions. While it is true that some homeless are addicts or mentally ill, they are all people. They breathe in and breathe out. They have beating hearts. Many have education, and most had jobs. Even some homeless work while being homeless, but they don't make enough to support themselves. Many give blood to make plasma, so they can get some money, and sick people can get help. But, one thing about being homeless is that it needs to be experienced to fully understand it. I am not suggesting that everyone go through what I did, but one needs to be a little more compassionate and not generalize.
When I moved into the mission, I had no idea what awaited me. One thing you must learn rather quickly are the rules. Most of the rules are unwritten, so it is best to follow for a few days, before you get the hang of it. In the mission, they stress spiritual goals, which I found to be good. Although, the preachers they brought in taught a lot of different things and some contradicted others, so I could see where one could get a little confused. But, the ultimate message was the same. You cannot do it on your own. You need help. And, that help is with God. I was also exposed to black spiritual music. Some I kind of liked. Others got old real fast. But, the music was pure. And, it came from the heart.
I had been in the mission for a few days, when my life was threatened. I was suffering from depression and felt little hope for getting better. Many of the unwritten rules came from those who had been in jail. One of those rules was not to approach someone from behind. I did that, and a guy got very mad at me and threatened to kill me. I told him to go ahead. I had nothing to live for. He was kind of taken aback by my response, but I was so mad at him that a couple of other guys had to restrain me. It was very tense. Eventually, both of us cooled off. The next day, I saw the guy sitting alone on the street, and I went over to talk to him. He apologized for his actions, and I did too. We got to talking, and we found that we both had a lot in common. We became friends after that. Another one of those unwritten rules came up: get some friends.
You can't survive on the street without friends. Some try to do it with the friends they had before becoming homeless. That is good, if you can do that, but the best friends are those who are experiencing what you are. In my case, I had about five friends who I hung out with. These guys became my support group. We didn't do everything together, but we knew each one had each other's back. Some guys left the group, and others joined in, but it was very important to have someone you knew you could depend on. The homeless population is a community, much like any other community. There is a wide range of folks in the community from the very educated to the ones with no education. From the ones that had good-paying jobs to the ones that worked menial labor. From the ones with no addictions to those who were alcoholics or drug addicts. From those sane to those mentally ill. But, I made many life-long friends there. And, even though I am not homeless now, I still go to the places where I see some of my homeless buddies, and we check up on one another. I also have made it my life's goal to give back to a life I had for a little over a year. I have seen the goodness of others, and I have seen the distain of others. I prefer to go with the goodness.
God bless the homeless for opening my eyes to life.
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