BILL CADY
Post Office Box 567
San Luis Rey, California 92068-0567
Tel: (760) 803-6690
Fax: (760) 637-2862
HOW TO LIVE HOMELESS-NOT HELPLESS:
THE SURVIVAL & RECOVERY GUIDE
By Bill Cady
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2011 Bill Cady
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One of my trite expressions when I first became homeless was the fact no one had written a "how-to" book on being homeless. We had no instructions. No way to know what we could or couldn't do, should or shouldn't do, and it was baffling to me. I was all alone, without any guidance. As my debt to the community, I'm putting this together for you and anyone who may ever find himself or herself in that spot. Because it's scary as hell to suddenly find yourself in that world, adrift and alone, it was as plain as day to me this book was badly needed. I only wish these things were fiction, as are the majority of my books to date. That time honored set of questions is what finally got me off my duff to do this between the novels in my latest series.
These are the questions: If not me, who? If not now, when?
FOREWORD
If you've picked this book up looking to be entertained or amused, perhaps to find a few "warm fuzzies", you're facing a huge disappointment. I suggest you either return it to the rack, or give it to someone who just became homeless, perhaps is on the edge of being that way. He or she will truly need this information in the days, weeks, months, and perhaps even years to come. There are no humorous facets to being homeless. The jerks who put up crude videos on YouTube, who make a mockery of it and depict homelessness as something fun to do, should be sentenced to a year or so living homeless. They'd see there's not a damned thing to laugh at.
It would be best if you were merely trying to educate yourself on our plight by reading this book. If not, if you fear you've been called to enlist with us, I strongly suggest you pay close attention to what you'll read in the pages to come. You'll need all of it, and yet more, to get you through what's ahead. You're about to find out no one cares very much or, if you find someone who does care, that person is rare and will eventually drift away to something else for their own reasons. If for no other justification, being around homeless people can be depressing as hell.
You'll make your own decisions about doing that, cohabiting if you will, with the others from what I lay out for you in this book. Personally, I chose not to live that way, other than for a minimal amount of social interaction to learn things I needed to know. Much of that information will be passed along to you here. It was my feeling, if I "joined up" in any way, it would make me a part of the "community", and I was adamantly against the idea. In my opinion, that would mean I was giving up and I couldn't do that. That way, I'd never get out.
Homelessness is a topic only those directly or peripherally involved would ever deem interesting, and there's too often almost no warning to let us know we have a pending connection. Sadly, when there are warning signs, we're prone to ignore them, thinking this sort of horror is something that only happens to "other people".
Become accustomed to the fact you, and everyone you know, are "other people". You'll be much better off with that knowledge, trust me on that one.
I'll always be a homeless guy as long as there are legal residents of this country without a roof and a bed. That's my slogan and active belief. The only more hellish way I can imagine to be alive would be as a stroke victim or crippled and disfigured by fire, but I can't speak to either of those terrors from experience. I can relate to being homeless, since I did live that way from January 17th, 2005 – May 29th, 2009. I never want to be that way, or live like that, again. If you have an ounce of common sense, you won't want it, either. Accept it as a worst case scenario and never … I repeat, never … stop fighting to escape the clutches of living that way. If you ever quit fighting it, you'll turn into an animal. A being willing to accept an inferior existence. A being without the one thing that separates us from the lower order of mammals.
Hope.
If/when you lose that, there's no reason to continue. You'll join in with those willing to wait until it's time to be walked and sit patiently by their food dish until fed. I don't bark and I have no tail to wag, so that level of existence was unacceptable to me. I pray, through these pages, I can either help you avoid that entirely or, if that's not an option on the table, to make your stay in the world of homelessness as short as it can possibly be.
With that in mind, let's get at it.
CHAPTER ONE
BEFORE IT BEGINS FOR REAL
CHAPTER TWO
GETTING READY TO BEGIN
CHAPTER THREE
PHASING IT IN
CHAPTER FOUR
THE ACTUAL PREPARATIONS
CHAPTER FIVE
WHAT TO ACQUIRE, WHAT TO TAKE WITH YOU
CHAPTER SIX
GETTING ALL YOUR DUCKS IN A ROW
CHAPTER SEVEN
WELL, HERE WE ARE, HOMELESS
CHAPTER EIGHT
DO'S, DON'TS & SUGGESTIONS
CHAPTER NINE
"PLAN B"
CHAPTER TEN
DEALING WITH PEOPLE
CHAPTER ELEVEN
HELP, BOTH WAYS, & "THE RULES"
CHAPTER TWELVE
NOT MUCH IS STILL LEGAL FOR YOU NOW
PICTURE PAGE
References
CHAPTER ONE
BEFORE IT BEGINS FOR REAL
If we're very lucky, we can use some preventive steps and keep you out of the homeless community. It's among the ugliest places on earth to live and, to date, I haven't found a happy member of it. Sad to say, it is a community. There are an estimated 3,500,000 people in the United States living homeless now, at the end of 2010, and an untold number who live that way intermittently. Another large group "rotates", staying with varying members of the family or friends, a stopgap that won't last all that long. Those who provide temporary shelter usually grow weary of it, or us, and a change is made. That change is seldom enjoyable.
My personal experience in that world began January 17th, 2005 and lasted until May 29th, 2009, a span I see as 4⅓ years in hell. During that "sabbatical" I encountered veterans whose time in the trenches make mine seem like a fortnight. A guy named Steve has been homeless for an estimated 27 years. His sidekick, Billy, has been out here 21-23 years. Many others I met have 8-10-12 years under their belts. The saddest part is seeing they've given up. Accepted Fate and will probably never make it back to "the world", to swipe a phrase from all the guys I knew who served in Vietnam in the 60s and early 70s.If you give up hope, that's what will happen to you, so make it a priority to always keep your sights trained on getting out. Keep in mind, once you quit trying, everyone else will, too. In the humdrum days that will soon become your everyday life there'll be so many other things to think about. Other causes of worry. Problems that will need your immediate attention, and you'll have to apply it. No one else will, so it'll all fall on you. Still, in the back of your mind … and deep in your heart … you must at all times maintain the conviction of getting out. Finding a way back so you can become a human being again. Believe me, based on my experience, most people won't see you as one, a human being, after you've become one of us. Even people you've known a long time will look at you now as someone different, and they'll treat you that way.
The first thing we need to address is prevention. If there's anything at all that can be done to keep you from entering this sad domain, do it. No hesitation, just do it. There are few uglier ways to live than as a homeless guy, take my word for it.
One of the first bad omens is a change of income. If that warning pops up, be sure to take it as seriously as smoke when you enter a room. The likelihood of fire is too great to dismiss, and it's the same if your income changes in any significant way. Should that happen, you can take a little time before reacting. Go ahead, wait until tomorrow, but not any longer.
That's not a joke. When that ominous event occurs, there's no time to waste. If it means you must change jobs, do it. Get a second job, even a third on the weekends, but do whatever it takes to get things back to where they were, or better. It's unbelievable how fast savings and other cushions can go poof. Stock holdings, if you haven't seen the news or read a newspaper the past couple years, can change overnight, and that's not an exaggeration.
Get a line on all liquid assets you have, and the semi-liquid ones, as well. Find out about your 401(k) values and how to surrender it, if needed. Forget the penalties. There's no sense in building for retirement if you starve to death before you reach that age. If there's some accrued vacation time at work, look into getting that money in cash. If not, when the vacation day arrives, that's when you should begin your temp job. Salt away 100% of what you make that way.If you own your home and have any amount of equity, (a rarity in southern California where I live), look into borrowing it out, then keep that much set aside. Make the payments as long as you're able to do it, and when things start getting really tight, pull it out and keep the cash someplace safe, but where you can get at it 24-hours per day. However, if you're close enough to becoming homeless to be reading this book, you're probably not in good enough shape to qualify for a loan. Still, it won't hurt you to check it out.
In the event your mortgage payments are behind, if you and the bank "own" your home, take a look at the dozens, (there really will be that many), of mailers that come in with offers to help stop foreclosure. Look at each with a jaundiced eye, since most will be trash, but there may be an answer you can live with. In many cases free legal help can be found after checking with Social Services or, quite often, at the local courthouse. There's often at least a number to call if you're indigent and face severe legal problems of a non-criminal nature.
Start looking while you're still in a seller's position to get rid of your car and acquire one that's as roomy as possible while extremely frugal on gasoline. It doesn't matter if the car you end up with is uglier than a blind date, that may well be your home for the next few years.
Yes, you heard me correctly. It can last years. As a test, sort of a "pop quiz" in the "Game of Life", I even had an "exam" I posted on my blog on behalf of the homeless which is listed on the Reference Page. I'll include it here:
Learn to eat for $5.00 or less per day
Keep your driving under 100 miles per week, (gas cost + wear & tear on the car)
Spend 3 random days per month where you can’t drive, even when you must
Every 90 days, budget in a "surprise expense" equal to 100% of your monthly income, then pay it, or beg people you know to give you that much money
Go somewhere you don’t belong, a black neighborhood if you’re white, or vice versa, and acclimate yourself to living with being treated that way 7 days per week
Contact everyone you think is a "friend" and ask them to make sure they don’t return your calls for at least a full month
Take your car to a rest area and sleep there every night for a full 7-day week
The next ten times someone suggests the two of you go someplace, tell him/her you aren’t welcome there
Find the five people you know like you the least and ask each one to do you a favor; bonus points if you ask to borrow any amount of money above ten bucks
For one full month, the only clean-up of your body is in a public facility sink
Wear the same clothing, underwear included, for 10 days in a row
All those "pleasures", and more, await those about to become homeless. Your ability to cope will be the deciding factor in how well you come out of this, along with the way you apply what you'll learn in these pages. If you're in a position where you can still pull out of the steep dive your life is about to enter, take the above "exam". If that won't convince you to make a few changes, you're stupid enough to date any/all of my ex-wives and enjoy being with her/them.If you owe money on your car, be very wary. Bankers are not your friends. Unless you're an old pro at it, their collection departments and the tow truck operators have been at this game a lot longer than you have. These people will block you at every turn and, sooner or later, they'll pounce. They'll know enough to check within a six block radius of your residence every night in the days after a second payment is missed to see if you park elsewhere and hoof it the rest of the way home. One day you'll come back to where you parked it and the car will be gone.
Once you become homeless, it'll be a little harder for them to find it, but not that much. If you ever walk back to where you parked what has now become your home-on-wheels and find it gone, along with all your earthly possessions, it's the ultimate devastation. Therefore, sell the car and get a good used vehicle, or borrow the money from a friend or relative to pay it off. That'll keep you "partially" safe.
Make sure whatever you'll be driving is in good repair and reliable. I had a '93 Pontiac Firebird TransAm, an old hotrod I adored. It was also a high maintenance vehicle. Had it not been for people who helped at the very last second, there were a half dozen times I would've lost my car and been on foot, keeping only what I could carry. Your car will be devious, as well, breaking down on you at the least fortuitous times and when you absolutely can't afford it. By making sure it's in the best shape possible before you set out on your homeless journey, you'll minimize the risk of a tragedy you won't be able to cope with.
Reduce the car insurance to the required state minimum, downsizing your expenses. It's another great reason for a free and clear title. That way you can eliminate the collision part, the heftiest piece of the premium. If there's a loan, you can't cancel the collision. If you do, they'll find the car and put you on foot. You also don't dare drive with expired insurance, or plates. It means when you get pulled over, (there's no "if" involved; Murphy's Law), your car will be impounded. You can't have that happen, not under any conditions. That's where you live. If you lose that car, you lose what little bit you have left in life. The very fact you're reading this tells me you've never been homeless before. In that case, you almost certainly don't have what it takes to be left that naked to the travesties of life.
Renew your AAA membership, or make sure it's paid when you're billed, (check to see if you can pay ahead while you have the money), because when you're dead broke is the time that car will come to a halt on you. Although becoming homeless was the biggest shock I ever had, to suddenly become a pedestrian would be even more ravaging. You can't risk having your car go bad on you anywhere it can't be legally parked. That car, no matter what you've thought of it and the other cars you've owned, will become the center of your universe. Without it, you'll be the next worst thing to dead. A guy on a bike or, if you sink to the uttermost bottom, on foot. If you feel there've been unpleasant limitations in your life in prior days, try living that way, where you can only go where your tired feet will take you. It's living in hell with no exit visa.
Keep in mind, as a homeless guy, you'll be constantly on the move. You can't stay in one place very long, no matter where it might be. Even a kindly friend who says you can park in the driveway, (at least so you can sleep there at night), won't last. The neighbors will call the police and they'll put a stop to it PDQ. Even if you own your home and have plenty of money, it's still against the law to sleep in your car. You might get away with it for a few days but, sooner or later, a nosy neighbor will make a complaint. That brings the cops and mandates someone must move. That would be you, the homeless guy.
Make sure you have FOUR sets of keys to your car. Always keep one set in the other pocket, opposite the pocket where you have your main set. It's not at all funny to step away from your car, then come back to see the keys dangling from the ignition with all the doors locked. Not when you live in it. Believe me, you don't want to break a window to get in, and the police will lie to you, saying they no longer carry the tool that lets them pop the door open. They still have it, but they'll never admit it. For the same reason, as additional backup, find a place you can hide a door key. Make sure it's not in a wheel well, the very first place a thief will look. Use wire or some other means to attach it, then remember where you put that key. It may well be crucial in the days to come. Give the 4th set to a trusted friend willing to help if you're really in a jam. I'll explain that part later, but be sure it's a very good friend, or it won't help.
With 41 years so far in the life insurance business, I know a little bit about it. If you own an insurance policy with a cash value, (term insurance has none), either borrow the maximum on it, or cash it in. In order to qualify for any social benefits, or to liquidate things if you must, there can't be any cash value insurance. You also can't give the policy to someone, a relative or friend, within 36 months of the date you apply for any social or legal benefits. Even if you're no longer insurable, meaning you wouldn't be able to buy any life insurance later when you're back on your feet, those facing homelessness don't have a "tomorrow" to worry about. Your #1 priority will be just getting through today. You'll face tomorrow when it gets here.
Because eating and having gas money to move when required are so crucial, (it's always required of you to keep moving, no matter how tired or broke you might be), max out your credit cards via cash advances when the time draws near, but before you're behind on the payments. A good reputation and credit rating are important, but they pale quickly in comparison when you need food, gas or cigarettes, if you're a smoker like me. Again, all focus and priority is on the "right now" part of your world. You can clean up all that mess as a part of your recovery when you're on your way back to being a human being again. At this point in your life, when you face being homeless for who knows how long, anything else doesn't matter any longer. Remember, you're in survival mode and nobody cares about your welfare as much as you do.
Borrow all you can from friends and any institution available. Be honest with the friends, telling them it may be years before they see it back, but don't worry about the banks, credit card companies, or credit unions. They've been here for a long time and will still be here after you're gone. For the homeless guy, "right now" is all you can ever hope to handle. Even so, too often, it's more than you can deal with. When you become homeless, it's every man for himself and to hell with the rest of the world.
Although you'll get a very bad deal on it, pawn or sell EVERYTHING YOU OWN if it's not going with you when you hit the road. Dispense with any foolish ideas you've come up with about renting a storage facility. That will only consume money you need to live on until you fall far enough back in the payments that your things are auctioned. If a close friend or relative won't store it for you, get rid of it. I can also attest, from sad experience, some of those people will use and destroy the things they said they'd keep for you. Some will just sell it and keep the money. Others will later have a change of heart and tell you to come pick it up, they're tired of stepping around it all the time, or moving it back and forth. If it won't fit in the car you'll be living in, get rid of it while you can still get something from the deal.
Even if the item costs $400 to buy when it's new and the best offer is a lousy twenty bucks, that's still better than leaving it behind. Take the money and use it to feed yourself. There'll be times in the days to come when $20 will make all the difference in the world. That's not a time to wish you'd done something else. If you don't pay attention, no one will.
CHAPTER TWO
GETTING READY TO BEGIN
There's a better than average chance just what you've read so far will have you feeling a bit queasy. It's equally possible you've convinced yourself you were too rash in assuming you'd be tucked nicely into our little world as a homeless guy. That means you'll want to put off the process of getting ready to be homeless. Therefore, I'll remind you of a couple things. I'll always be a homeless guy as long as there are legal residents of this country without a roof and a bed. That means I know what I'm talking about, unfortunately. The second thing, don't think you're above all this. While becoming homeless is something that only happens to "other people", YOU are "other people" to anyone who doesn't know you.
When you become one of us, the majority of those you feel know you and know who you are will move to the "I don't know him or her" side, at least subconsciously. You might think, It can't actually happen to me because …
Park that idea in the farthest recesses of your mind and stop paying attention to it. This sure as hell can happen to you. It also occurs for women and "older people". As an example, I know a woman named Pat. She's homeless, although she insists she's not really that way since she lives in a motor home. The cheaper campgrounds are filled with otherwise homeless folks who have nowhere else to go. The county park I stayed in is almost always at least 50% made up of homeless people, many camping in their cars, as I was. When I finally escaped, the daily rate was at $24.00 for a place to park and sleep at night.Be advised that "privilege" is limited. For the money spent I'd get an electric post I could plug into, a concrete picnic table, a fire pit if I wanted to cook food, and a water outlet adaptable to a garden hose. Most of the real campers sneered at us, to the point I heard two of them talking after a holiday weekend. One guy said, "It sure does smell better now that we're rid of those 'street people', doesn't it?" Feeling bold that day, I walked over to the blacktop road in front of his campsite and made a very faux apology for "inconveniencing you and the other real human beings". I left that pig with his jaw hanging agape, but it was stupid. It left me open to a false complaint against me. If a homeless guy accumulates too many of them, he's banned from the park, sometimes for years. Oh, and the people will make numerous complaints, just because we look like what we truly are: homeless people.
The most frequent idiotic complaint lodged against me was, "He looks like he might do something." Since every person alive "might do something", and will, in fact, it was nebulous to the point of being asinine. However, that's never the end of it. Often people with too much time on their hands and not enough brains to think anything through would call the police. At that point, the cop must make a stop. The homeless guy must produce ID, go through the shame and humiliation of everyone seeing it, and stay there while the cop runs a "wants and warrants" check. If there are any warrants out, even parking or traffic tickets, the subject is going to jail.
Even the kindest of people, such as SOME but not all the park rangers where I stayed, can't store that car for you. Going to jail, unless you know someone willing to come get your car and store it a while, (maybe as long as 90 days?), means you lose everything you still own but what you're wearing. That would be the very good friend I mentioned earlier. A person willing to drop what he or she is doing and come get your car. Your messy, dirty, slovenly car all filled with your worldly possessions.
The neatest of "neat freaks" can't possibly live in a car 24/7 and keep it in what's seen as "presentable shape". Some homeless people manage to keep their vehicles clean inside and out, but they don't "live in the car", they only use it. For sleeping, and after dark, they're among those willing to stay in a shelter. IF they can find one. IF they can tolerate it. IF they don't get beaten up or have everything stolen. IF they can meet the "behavior requirements". IF, IF, IF, and yet more IFs, but they'd rather do it that way. In most cases, it's a woman, either much older or with kids, willing to live with conditions I was unwilling to tolerate. Because I found those conditions and/or rules unbearable, I have no experience I can use to advise you. If you choose to explore them to any degree, either write your own book like this, or contact me and I'll include it in an update. The Reference Page will give you various ways to reach me.
Back to Pat. She's now 77 years old, living in a motor home I was amazed every week she was able to start and drive. It belched. It chugged. It blew black smoke from the tailpipe. It barely ran, in other words. Yet, there are "park rules". Someone among those complainers has, in the past, made strides. One can no longer be what's termed a "permanent resident" of any local or county campground. That means a maximum of 21 of every 28 days can be spent as a camper. It leaves that person with two options.
The first is to stay 21 days at a campground, then relocate for at least a week to another before coming back. Oh, and to try it without prepaid reservations is foolhardy. Murphy's Law will again rule. When needed the most, the campground will be full. Except for a couple times I was left dead broke due to "unexpected mechanical problems", I usually had enough money to pay a month in advance. I did it each month from my SSI cheque that arrived on the 1st. Even so, there were times I couldn't get a spot for a day or two, occasionally longer, and that meant using "Plan B", which we'll discuss later. That, too, was another form of living in hell, but you'll find the life of the homeless is definitely no picnic in the park.What most of us did was buy a space five days at a time, starting Sunday afternoon at two and ending Friday at noon. I'd leave "my spot" early every morning to get my errands taken care of as timely and quickly as possible. Then I'd hurry back to get one of the two parking spots with some shade, knowing I'd sit in my car all day and be ogled until I left again to buy dinner, which I'd eat in "my spot". I didn't stay in "my spot" during the day because all those people are in the habit of mingling and being buddies with each other. Remember, I truly didn't want to be a part of the community I lived in.
If I missed getting back in time and someone else pulled in, staying anywhere from an hour to a couple days, I had to sit in the direct sun all day. My days were spent first devouring every page & article in my local newspaper, (the San Diego Union-Tribune), then library books, which can only be taken out for a maximum six weeks at a time. I'd normally select 18 books and scramble to make sure they were finished when I made my "library trip" every 5-6 weeks.
If you're not an avid reader, I don't know what to suggest. You're looking at some long and boring days, weeks, months, maybe even years with whatever other form of amusement you can find. Keep in mind, if whatever you want to do isn't something everyone will approve, you won't do it long. Someone will complain and you'll either stop it or be banned from the place you want to spend your days.Oh, and regular parks are verboten. Things get even worse in any location where those dreaded "children" abound. Personally, I can't stand kids, but that's my opinion and my problem, although it will be yours as well as far as where you spend your time. If you fall asleep in your car, someone will soon call the police. You'll get a warning or two, then either be ticketed or the car will be towed away. Neither option is tolerable to the homeless. Tickets range from $19.00 - $271.00, depending on the cop's mood, and you'll very rarely ever win in court, although I did win once. More on that in a while.
Later in the afternoon, I'd start the engine and leave to get food, most of which was on the "dollar menu" at Mickey D's. The homeless seldom have any means of cooking and must buy all their food from places like that. Cholesterol be damned, when you're hungry you have to eat. To do it for $200 per month, or less, is quite a trick, but you'll learn how or starve. Keep in mind it's also inconvenient, often impossible, to store anything, especially if it must be refrigerated. Yet, a facsimile IS available.
Food and other perishables will at least stay cool, even in the summer, if placed inside a bag of clothing or something like that and stored where it's dark and the sun never shines. It's best if the item is packed tight, with those shirts or whatever wrapped around it. It'll stay cool for a day, sometimes longer. Yet, even with a plastic cooler, ice will melt rapidly and make a mess you can't abide.
Once fed, after returning to the campsite, I'd settle in with whichever "companion" it was my good fortune to spend the rest of the day and night with. It could be 1,000,000 mosquitoes, or a horde of flies that seemed to exist only to torment me. Perhaps it was temperatures that left me soaked in perspiration that would only be alleviated by my every-other-day toilet routine. (More on that later). The rain was always a lot of fun, meaning the windows had to stay closed and my car would steam up so badly I couldn't see out them at all.
Yet another "pleasant interruption", more prevalent if you "camp" in your car instead of a van or motor home, is the cop who sticks to the rules and sees your car while cruising through at 2:00 a.m. He "knows" you're an illegal camper, so he'll approach the car with a spotlight shining in your eyes, then either see the parking sticker in your windshield, or you'll quietly point it out. As many as 50% may mumble a vague half apology as they walk back to the patrol unit. The others say nothing, they simply leave. You'll be so mad you won't get to sleep for an hour sometimes, but will do some bitter mumbling of your own. Perhaps mutter an insult indicating that cop was "a wee bit too close with Mom" while growing up. He won't hear it, but we all need to vent when we've been wronged.
If not heat, mosquitoes or rain, another "welcome guest" would be the cold. It’s hard for me to imagine what a guy must do in the hellish place where I grew up, Michigan, since it can get bitterly cold, especially at night. Here in southern California it still drops into the high 30s at night in the winter. Once you've slept with six blankets, wearing two flannel shirts and two pairs of socks, the gearshift jammed against your sore and tired knee, you'll see what I mean. For now, that's the best I can describe it. The temps will leave you shivering and cold, afraid to even think about starting your car and running it off and on to stay warm, but there'll be times you must. WHEN, (there's no "if" to it), the exhaust begins going bad, you'll be at risk of dying from the fumes, so the heater will be your decision. In my case, the imagined gas I'd waste and the cost to replace it were enough to justify shivering until the sun rose again.Of course, in the winter months, there's also mechanical breakdowns. I can't advise on each as the numbers are unimaginable.
I can only suggest you learn to pray and beg. Both are certainly necessary to your overall survival.
Again, we're back to Pat, a woman who relies heavily on her faith to get her through the ongoing grief of life as she knows it. She has some adult children but, as I understand it, none are willing to take care of her. One, a son in his late 30s, periodically lives with her in the motor home for months at a time. He "borrows" money from her every so often. Yet, whenever he gets a job, he moves out and gets an apartment … without Mom. He'll live away for a time, then be back with one story or another to live with her until opportunity strikes again. In my opinion, a guy like that should be ordered out "on patrol" at the target end of some military shooting range without a weapon, but what do I know? It's simply a point worth mentioning so many people, family and other, can be counted on like an amputated finger in times such as these.
The last I heard from Pat, as she was somewhere in her 10th year living that way, she was sharing an apartment with an older guy here in Oceanside, California. That's only a rumor I picked up from someone when I asked about her absence. Beyond that, I can only hope and pray for her. While I don't know what she's like to live with, she seemed to be a very nice person the dozen or so times we spoke, and we did favors for each other from time to time.
Another one is Barbara. She's been homeless since 2006 or 2007, living in a full-size '96 Buick. She spends her nights at Bread of Life, a shelter I wouldn't want to use, but stays all day in her car. Shelter rules say everyone must be out right after breakfast, circa 8:00 a.m. every day, and stay out until evening, around six o'clock. It probably doesn't sound too unusual until you consider her age. Barbara, (real name Leona Barbara Hamilton), is 85-years-old.
Would you care to try saying again how this can't happen to you?
I learned her age the day she ran into my car in the parking lot. Twice. All while trying to put that big Buick into a parking space by backing in. If it had been almost anyone else, since she drove away without saying a word after ramming into the back of my car, I would've called the cops, even though no homeless guy wants police contact. After all, I was sitting in it when she ran into me the first time. Barbara stopped, backed up, pulled forward, rammed me again, then tried one more time to park. When she couldn't, she simply drove about 100 yards away and parked in a spot too far from the public restroom to suit her old legs. When I confronted her after walking over to where she'd moved, she denied it completely, although that was the last time she showed up at the park where she rammed me. I saw her a few times after that at a Mickey D's where she went for morning coffee, but we never spoke. It's safe to assume she was either too embarrassed or, as I suspect, her mind is going and she forgot all about it.
The reason I didn't turn her in, although she's getting senile and really shouldn't be using a car any longer, is I might as well shoot her as to do that to her. Had I turned her in, she'd've eventually lost her driver's license and been on foot. Maybe you could've done that to her. I know I couldn't bring myself to doom the poor old woman, so I let it go. That was in late 2008. I have no idea now if she's still homeless, or even still alive. That's simply how it goes out here in the homeless world. You take care of yourself and do for or assist the others whenever possible.
After all, that "other person" could well be you one day. I know you'll believe that if you stop to think about it. If not, you wouldn't be reading this book.There's a Picture Page at the end with two friends of mine, buddies I hooked up with in the years I was out there. Steve and Billy have appeared in numerous articles on my blog, although Billy may not show up many more times. Using his first name in the SEARCH window of the blog will find either of these fellas. However, since Billy recently had his third heart attack in as many months, his future doesn't look as bright as it might be. He needs heart surgery, but he has an underlying infection in his system that would make surgery fatal. If they can correct it and do the operation, he might survive.
If not, I'll lose another good and valued friend.
When I heard he had the first one, I was very concerned. He fell to the ground outside a convenience store by the gas pumps. An ambulance was summoned and they took him to an ER, but not the closest one. Not by any means. The one they chose was many miles away, adding to the risk, but he's obviously homeless, so it didn't matter. I learned that the next day when I went to visit and the closest hospital had no record of him being a patient. Billy was also not to be found at the one they did take him to for treatment.
You see, he was released the next day. A wheelchair to the door and they waved good-bye as he walked away less than 24 hours after suffering a heart attack. Expenses, and all that. Be prepared to accept the same massive indifference while you're homeless, too. No one will care for or worry about you beyond yourself and a few friends you'll make in the small but now rapidly growing homeless community.
Perhaps I'm being facetious when I say "small", since there are 3,500,000 of us in this country, with 8,500 of us in San Diego county. I've posted articles on the blog complaining of things such as the annual fights over where, (there's an "if factor" each year, as well), the winter shelters will be located. The #1 concern, of course, is always budgetary. How that can be when a local group just amassed $21,000,000 to be used on shelters for cats is beyond me, but it's rather apparent where the priorities of our society are directed. Those articles, too, can be found on my blog, listed on the Reference Page of this book.
Of course, there are always phonies to deal with. One in particular stands out, a woman who worked as a lawyer all her life. She even befriended me once in 1998 while I was going through an expensive divorce by passing along some free advice. When I learned she was also supposedly homeless during my last year of living in my car, I tried to help her, but couldn't. It seems she has some undiagnosed mental problems and it's nearly impossible to communicate with her. To say anything with which she disagrees will launch her on a tirade, and it becomes even scarier to realize she frequently changes her opinion. Therefore, there is no safe ground for discussion. Yet the major point of contention is her claim to being homeless in the first place, as she isn't. The last few years, until she found some sort of subsidized housing, probably under the Section 8 laws, she drifted from one place to another, "staying with friends" as she called it.
If you have a roof over your head, a steady diet of meals so you aren't constantly hungry, a bed to sleep in and the ability to shower on a daily basis, you're not homeless. You may be in a bad spot, granted, but homeless means without a place to live. Sleeping in a shelter, or a car, or a ditch, or in an alley, maybe next to or behind a building. The easiest test to see if it qualifies is to decide if you can be ticketed, which can and often does result in jail time, for wherever you're sleeping. If you won't be ticketed for sleeping there, you're not homeless.
That woman talks incessantly, but not to those around her. She argues with herself and makes insults to people, often directly in front of them, but they're not part of the discussion. She simply goes on for hours at a time berating anything and anyone that comes into her not all that terribly healthy mind. She does it in person, and carries it out on the internet, as well. If that's your situation, I pray you get help, as I also pray holds true for her, but the mentally ill will not be a main focus of what's in these pages. That part of our group, and the others, will be looked at later, but the main effort of what's written here is to help those who become homeless and want to get out enough to do something to achieve that goal.
Always with an eye on the door, looking to escape from hell.
Oh, and it can be done. I did it, and you can do it, too.
CHAPTER THREE
PHASING IT IN
The likelihood you're reading this for entertainment being so minimal, my responsibility is to see you look at all the angles. See all the things I can recall or bring together that you need to learn. My job in this part is to tell you what you need to know, keeping in mind almost none of it is what you want to hear. Still, this isn't something you'd choose to snuggle up by your fireplace with to fill your evening. Therefore, let's examine a couple raw facts and see where it gets us.
If this isn't pretty close to the most miserable time in your life to date, you must have a biography that would make a fantastic book. While I've had some serious scrapes of my own, and confronted my own likely death on several occasions, simply facing up to being homeless was the ugliest part of my entire life. Worse than when my youngest son almost died. Worse than the many weeks I waited last year to find out if I was dying of cancer. (I'm not).
This was the "Big Mama", the "Mother of All Bad Experiences" I'd ever known. Because of that, I'm going to give you some truly valuable advice I learned the wrong way. I didn't do it this way and I should've. My understanding came from doing it the hard way by going without. Let's not have you repeat my stupidity.
Before you take on this next series of steps I suggest you take all your pride and your normal sense of indignity and put 'em in a small metal box, then store it somewhere. It'll still be there when you come back from being homeless, and the mere fact you're reading this ups your odds tremendously. I faced all these hazards on my own without knowing what I'll share with you here. If not for a series of what I see as miracles, I'd still be there in Guajome Regional Park campgrounds five nights a week and using "Plan B" the other two.
This next part seemed simple in the outline I made, but it isn't. Not here, not now.
If you're adamantly against God, or asking for His help, maybe you should just flip through the next few pages and count on doing most of this stuff the hard way, as I did at first. Assuming you refuse to ask His help, as I did completely the first six months, you'll be in a contest with me for "Dumbest Man Ever". Yet, as I conceded that potential title and figured out I needed a lot more than I could muster up on my own, all I can say is "Good luck with that. We'll see you in a few pages when I finish with this part." I'll put a BOLD WARNING when we get to the "God" part so you can skip those pages.
You're going to need help from so many areas it's hard to list all of 'em. However, you will be able to find almost all of it if you follow these suggestions. The first is to swallow that pride we all share and seek counseling. You might want to take a look at debt counseling, too, but it's probably a little bit late for that since you're reading this info. Still, DO seek mental health counseling. That's not to imply you're loony in any way, but it's impossible to remain in a normal frame of mind when you face living destitute and without a home, along with a lengthy list of the other "withouts" I'll be showing you. It's free and, while certainly not the elite of the counseling industry, a whole lot better than winging it on your own.
Check with Social Services, look under Mental Health, see the people at your closest hospital. These are all places where you can get a referral. Granted, some of the people you'll speak with will make you think they need counseling more than you do, but you'll be separating the wheat from the chaff and making your own selections. We … that's you and me … have to trust your ability on that part but, simply because you're reading this, I know you're not a quitter. In that case, I'm far more confident we're gonna make it out of this, you and I, together. The means of contacting me, again, is on the Reference Page. I can't carry you through this, nor do I want to, so I won't even try. The majority of the effort will have to come from you. I'm only your assistant, as you're the true hero in this saga. However, it's okay with me. I already enjoyed the starring role in my own very similar melodrama.
While we're at it, let's put our cards on the table. No matter what you've done to convince yourself, or how many bullshit stories or ideas you've gone through so far in rationalizing things, suicide is not the answer. That much I can also speak to from experience because I tried it. Hell, I'm an actual genius, (did the MENSA thing in the 60s and all that), and I researched it. Even had a plan for it. Convinced myself this was the end and it was the right thing for me. The right thing to do.
Once again, bullshit.
Let's be real with each other here. If you had a terminal illness, one that would cause you a great deal of pain, I could get on board with the idea of suicide. Who needs the grief, right?
Well, the fact you're reading this says you're a fighter. You don't want to take the easy way out, so some of those trite expressions actually apply to you. That's a permanent answer to a temporary problem. Therefore, it won't fit. Many of the people who become homeless this year, more than I could count in a lifetime, will die homeless. Sadly, from the unscientific studies I've done since I started the blog, it'll take 'em about 20 years that way. That's a very ugly future to look at. It might even be reasonable for a guy to say, "To hell with you, Bill", and look back into the idea of suicide … except for one thing.
YOU ARE NOT A QUITTER!
Therefore, we won't let this beat us back. You and I won't.
Since I don't know you individually, I only know you're already fighting back when it needs to be done by reading this, I can't say how long you'll be "out here". Again, I say it that way because I'll always be a homeless guy as long as there are legal residents of this country without a roof and a bed, so I'm still one of us, just like you are or soon will be. That's okay, too, because we aren't going to quit on each other. As a matter of fact, I'll toss in the recruiting pitch to you right now. When we beat this homelessness thing together, you and I, it'll then be up to you to get in touch with me to volunteer. I'm going to need your help because you and I are not in this mess alone. There are enough of us to form a small nation.
As far as suicide goes, as will almost certainly hold true for you if you attempt it, I didn't pull it off properly. Most people don't, at least the first few times. However, if you try it, you'll have that "on your record". Then you really will get some mental health counseling, but it won't be what you want. They'll be looking at you as a loony bird and suspicious of everything you say or do. You'll end up in a psyche ward with "the thorazine people" and it'll be an ugly few days, weeks or months before they let you back on the street. Homeless, anyway.
At that point you'll no longer have the assets I suggest you'll need to make it and you'll be on foot, as well. Worse, depending on how you might make the attempt, you'll more than likely have badly injured yourself or damaged some organs, making it even harder to get all this crap behind you. Even the people who try to do it with a firearm usually screw it up, so let's save that option. It's something you can always look into later.
As a matter of fact, some of my blog posts have addressed that idea head on. The most commonly used way of the homeless, as I've seen it, is to step in front of a speedy train. We have a half dozen of those each year. Seriously, we do. Therefore, don't make it hard on us now, okay? I checked. Give this a sincere try and, if you hit a 5th anniversary out here in the streets, you'll have my blessing on using the train, if you still want to do it. They'll still be chugging along the tracks 24 hours per day, so hold off on that solution for a while.
Only a sissy would take that chickenshit way out because he didn't have the cojones to go through a miserable spot for a while. Hell, you were married once and you survived that, so you can make it through this, too. You're not a quitter, and you're not a sissy, either.
Let's take a look at another asset you have. Probably the most valuable thing you own.
Yourself.
This isn't "rah-rah crap" I'm giving you. The very fact you're reading this says you're not a quitter, so we have a much better than even chance of getting you out of this after a while. You must first accept it's not going to be easy. Then accept the fact you can do this thing. Once you have those decisions made, we can get at it. I won't lie and say this'll be over before you know it, but you will be a better person for the experience when it's finished.
Everyone I know says I am, and if I can do it, you can, too.
One of the notes I have in the outline was "seek help before it's too late". I'm not sure what I had in mind when I listed it, but this is the concept. It won't ever be too late. Until that ugly moment you get in your car and drive away into the vast and scary unknown, keep asking in all directions for any sort of help you can get. Money, (the easiest to use), counseling, lodging, (in whatever form you'll tolerate, which may differ from what I'd've accepted), food, suggestions, all the way down to the one with no monetary value. Friendship. You'll need it, and will learn to appreciate it as you never have before.
In my case, I finished packing my car and drove away about an hour before the "brown shirts" arrived. That name was originally given to Hitler's storm-troopers and, oddly enough, is the color of our sheriff's deputies uniforms. In any event, I didn't want to see those people lock the doors and use new keys to do it. Yet, whether you get escorted out or are gone when they show up, do not stop seeking help. It took me a ridiculously long time to learn that. I was also rebellious on so many fronts, I forfeited many things I could've used. Don't be as proud, or as stupid, as I was.
BOLD WARNING … GOD PART AHEAD
It was after six months, when I realized I was making almost zero progress, I opened my thoughts to include God as my answer. You can read that stuff in greater detail on my blog, but I'd had it with religion and anything similar. Still feel that way about religion and I don't belong to any church, which are all things created by man. However, I did read the bible. Eight times over a four year span I read the bible, cover to cover.
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