Julia P

It's 10:30 am, two Saturdays before Christmas 2007 and Portland is bustling, busting at the seams under a leaden sky that shows promises of clearing; steel blue clouds hiding the sun. There is a trumpet player dressed as Santa, playing Christmas carols on the street corner for change. A work crew busies itself setting up a large shelter for an orchestra in the middle of Pioneer Square. A group of high-school aged girls flits past. An unkempt young man sits on his stone throne on the wall that surrounds the square, reading a paintball magazine. Beautiful people are everywhere, the trumpeter providing the music for an unscripted but beautifully synchronized holiday waltz.

I was again looking for homeless kids to interview in a place where I had much success previously. I did one lap around Pioneer Square, then a second, then a third. No one even looked close to homeless except a couple young drug dealers who were just leaving and the paintball magazine kid. But homeless kids generally don’t read paintball magazines and drug dealers usually don't talk -they're just too hardened, caught up in a lifestyle that demands their complete selves.

As I was scanning the crowd, I saw a young lady sit down across the street against the brick backdrop of Nordstrom’s. She was dressed in many layers of clothing, she had heavy eye makeup and a hairstyle that could be the latest rage or last night’s remnant of one. I approached her.

“My name is Eric,” I said politely, “may I ask you a few questions?”

She eyed me suspiciously. “I guess so,” she said.

I told her that I interviewed homeless youth and that I was looking for someone…

She interrupted me. “I’m not homeless,” she said.

“Oops. I’m sorry,” I said awkwardly. I still had my doubts, however. Call it the power of a first impression.

“I was just waiting for a bus to take me to school…”

I jumped on that. “You go to school on a Saturday?” I had her.

“Yeah, Portland Community College?” she said, annoyed.

“OK…I’ll just go and not offend you anymore,” and walked away quickly, shaking my head, laughing inwardly at the awkwardness of the situation. This “breaking the ice” process happens in some form every time. Finding the first homeless person to talk to when I’m interviewing is always a chore. I’m nervous and shy and make goofy mistakes like that. After that, it seems I can spot them better, my intuition reborn.

I did another lap around Pioneer Square, but the girl I had just embarrassed myself with was still there; I couldn’t bear to pass her again. So I turned the other way and approached a young security officer.

“Aren’t there usually a bunch of homeless kids around here?” He eyed me suspiciously until I explained what I was doing. Then he just looked at me like I was crazy - an improvement.

“I haven’t seen any homeless kids around here for a while. You might try the waterfront.” I looked down the street towards the Columbia River that runs through the city. I didn’t realize it was so close.

“Thanks,” I said, and started walking.

I passed a young man sleeping in a doorway in a building across the street from the river, but didn’t see much sense in waking him. I hit the waterfront. It was turning out to be a nice day, the blue sky now commanding the sky, and about 45 degrees.

A young black man rode by on a bike. He smiled, eyes twinkling and said, “good morning” and kept riding. Something told me that he was out-of-doors. I turned and looked at him and saw that he was looking back at me. He turned around and came riding back.

His name was Bob, he said, and he was indeed homeless. He had been that way for several years. When I asked, he said he was 30 years old. My sixth sense must have been in full swing by then because although his eyes were clear and kind, I knew something was amiss. I wasn't getting the full story. I had the feeling that if I asked him for a baggie of heroin he'd have it on him.

That aside, we finished a short but pleasant conversation and he rode off in the same direction I was walking towards a group of people seated on some benches about 100 yards ahead. As I approached, I saw that this was indeed a group of homeless young people. Bob had parked his bike and was talking to another man, but now there was no smile in his eyes as he glared back at me. That look was an invitation to remain silent about any conversation or supposed connection that he and I had. I knew that any intimation that we had spoken would be met with coolness to say the least. I obliged him and approached another young man with tattoo fingers running up out of his shirt towards his left ear. I was just asking him if I could talk to him about his life when he saw some more people approaching.

“I’m working,” he said impatiently and walked off.

It was then that I realized that I was a rather privileged looking character in the middle of a drug store. I mean a real drug store. Bob continued to glare and whisper to an associate, and now the large, burly guy around whom many of the group was gathered was also looking in my direction.

I moseyed off, certain that I was not going to get an interview now, if not beginning to fear for my safety.

I went a few hundred yards off towards Couch Street, adjacent to the infamous Burnside Bridge. A young girl was approaching. She had a backpack and a torn plastic bag around her shoulders. As she neared I could see that her skin was clear, that which was not covered with open sores. Dried blood came from her ear. Her hair was matted. Although her appearance was just this side of shocking, she looked to me to be much younger than she actually turned out to be.

“Can I ask you a question?” I said.

Another suspicious look (it goes with the territory). I told her what I wanted and she agreed as long as we walked as we talked. She was going to go meet some friends.

Thus began one of the most heartbreaking tales I have ever heard. As you read along, you, like me as I was listening, may begin to tire of the regular excuses. “I can’t find a place to live because they won’t take my cat, too” and “if the rich people spent more on the homeless…” I’ve heard these before many times. But as I listened to Julia’s story, I was touched deeply by the situation into which she had been born and I once again resolved to do something to help people who truly want to get off the streets, off the streets.

I am breaking convention here a little on this interview in three instances. Towards the end, in order to give you a fuller picture of the final interaction between Julia and me, I switched to a narrative rather than a strict transcription. This is something I have not done in the past, but the conversation and what happened is exactly as I describe and I want you to be "there" as much as possible. I doubt I can convey the power of the communication as it hit me, but I'll try. Secondly, instead of only this prologue, I will have comments at the end of the interview as well. Finally, I am publishing this interview only a week or so after the last one instead of waiting a month or so between publishing. I am doing this simply because I feel I should. The few facts she offers at the end, when viewed with an empathetic and thoughtful heart, are compelling - and this is a good time of year to be compelled!

Here is the interview.

What’s your name?
Julia P.

And how old are you, Julia?
I’m 25.

How long have you been on the street?
4 years.

Where are you from?
Originally I’m from Hawaii.

What part of Hawaii?
The big island.

What brought you to the mainland?
My grandmother lived over here. She passed away.

She passed away. I’m sorry to hear that. Was she here in Portland?
Yeah.

Is that where you were staying?
No, she was in a home and my aunt took her to her home and I basically came to help take care of her.

So you came here from Hawaii to take care of your grandmother. And when did she pass away?
About 2 ½ years ago.

And then where did you go?
Friends houses on and off, until I ran out of those. Family’s not an option, I don’t like the shelters…plus I have a cat and they won’t let me stay in the shelters with him so I sleep out on the sidewalk usually.

Where is your cat now?
My boyfriend has him. I’m going to meet him now.

I see. What’s the biggest problem you face right now?
Well, I have no current ID, so that makes it real hard to get a job or food stamps or anything. I need my birth certificate, proof of address which I don’t have…the biggest problem trying to get off the streets is trying to come up with the deposits, the money…and then not only that but I got a “no-cause” eviction on the eleventh month of a twelve month lease (laughs) and, uh, yeah it doesn’t look too great. I had to have a cosigner to get that studio apartment. Usually when I get jobs they’re minimum wage. They don’t cover three times the rent which is what most places take for a deposit, and so basically even if I had the money I have to pay $20 application fees over and over and over again until I’m broke (chuckles). That’s happened a few times, you know what I mean?

Hmm.
Not only that, most of the time they want you to match the rent with a deposit or pay first and last month’s rent…you try to come up with $1000 sleeping on the streets (chuckles), especially if you don’t have any friends or family to help you out.

Why isn’t family an option for you?
Uh…my aunt just doesn’t want anything to do with me. We don’t get along. My parents have been deceased for years.

Both of them passed away?
My grandmother was really the only family that I had.

How did your parents pass away?
They died when I was really young. I basically grew up in foster homes in Hawaii. My dad died when I was 5 and my mom passed away giving birth. She died from that.

That’s tragic. I’m sorry to hear that.
That’s ok. It was a long time ago.

Yeah, sure.
Lots of counseling (chuckles).

Lots of counseling. Has that helped you?
Kind of.

Do you feel like society can help you in some way?
Well, yeah, of course. There are people who are living way beyond their needs…if those select few people got together with more select few people like them, I’m sure they could solve the homeless problem. Not only that we’re spending too much money on that war. That, I mean, if they only spent a third of that money where they need to spend it, which is in the United States (chuckles), there wouldn’t be a homeless problem, know what I mean?

You’ve been homeless for several years, right?
Right.

How big of a problem are drugs on the street?
Drugs are…well, once you get I the cycle of being homeless you get depressed, bored…I mean, there’s nothing else to spend your money on, you’re not going to get into a place any time soon, you know what I mean? I know a lot of people that do a lot of heavy drugs because they don’t want to think about their lives. They pretty much self-medicate for that reason.

I see.
Currently I’ve been trying to stay off drugs. I just got out of jail. They put me in jail because I didn’t pay two Tri-Met tickets. (I was in jail) for a month. It’s a constant struggle for me, though (referring to the drugs).

It’s a constant struggle for you?
Yeah.

I’ve talked to a lot of homeless folks, and drugs are almost always an issue.
I was a meth addict for 5 years; that’s how I lost some of my teeth.

Do you feel like you’re off that?
Yeah. Yeah, I’m done with that.

At this point we were approaching her friends. I noted that they were the same group that I had just left; the drug dealers. She offered to walk back the way from which we had just come so we could finish the interview.

How did you kick your drug habit?
I don’t think anybody really kicks drugs – I think they have to want to quit. You can be put into hundreds of treatment programs, you can have everybody in your family begging you to quit, and if you don’t want to up here (points to her head), you won’t, plain and simple. People could be threatening to put you in jail for six months, and if you’re not ready to quit up here, you’re going to gonna out and do ‘em. That’s the way it is… unfortunately. I mean, if I could have quit every time I wanted to in the past, I would have quit a long time ago, you know what I mean? But I wasn’t ready up there for some reason. Even though I’d say I was, I just wasn’t.

OK. Thanks for your candor.
Sure.

Can we go back to something we already spoke about?
(Nods)

How old were you when your parents passed away?
Uh…my mom passed away when she was giving birth to me and my dad died when I was about five.

Your mom passed away giving birth to you?
Yeah.

And your dad died when you were about five?
Right.

What happened right after that? You went right into foster care in the state?
Yeah, in Hawaii. I was in state custody. I grew up in about fifty different foster homes. I was a blond haired, blue-eyed kid and (chuckles) in a school with five other white kids, you know what I mean? I was a minority. No one was going to adopt me; not only that I was a drug baby…my mom was addicted to heroin when she had me…I don’t know if that had anything to do with her dying…they couldn’t stop the bleeding. And…my dad killed himself five years later.

Was he a drug addict?
(She shrugged and shook her head as if to say she didn’t know). He wrote a suicide note. I got it when I was 18. He said he couldn’t bear to live without my mom. He said that every time he looked at me he saw her, so…

At this point, Julia looked back at me and saw that I had tears in my eyes.

“He hung on for a long time,” she said quietly, “before he just had to end it.”

“Yeah, he did,” was all I could manage, my voice choked.

“That’s ok,” she said as she looked into my eyes, her eyes now red as well, “sometimes I cry too.”

I gave her $5 for breakfast and walked away, emotionally overcome.


CONCLUSION
As I re-read this interview, I am amazed at how quickly tears sprung to Julia’s eyes. I suggest that those tears came because she saw that her story is indeed heartbreaking to someone other than herself – namely me this time. I hope that the fact that someone feels for her and cares for her helped her through her day. Unfortunately, knowing what I know about homeless people in general and from what I saw of Julia, I have my doubts that she was as drug-free as she claimed. The fact that her friends were the dangerous-looking bunch I had already encountered suggest that if she is not using, she may be again soon. It doesn’t necessarily mean she was lying about it, but it might easily be the case this time. The question I have to ask here is, “so what?” I know she was not lying about the most important part of her story, her childhood. Given the emotional weight that was placed on Julia at such a young age, can we blame her completely for making such terrible decisions in her life? That said, are there others in the world with similarly difficult situations that have not done what she has, that are not on drugs and sleeping on the street? Of course there are, and they are an inspiration. But before we judge Julia, let us remember that it’s easy to point fingers from our position. My suggestion is that each of us do as my good-natured brother-in-law does; go through our homes and gather extra blankets or coats and be prepared to give them to someone who looks cold or lonely or both, as nerve-wracking as it may be at first. Be safe while doing so, especially if you are female. The homeless can be a very dangerous bunch, make no mistake, as they labor to serve the master called “drugs”. That notwithstanding, it is my hope that beginning this Christmas season we will all celebrate by beginning or continuing to reach out to those who are less fortunate than us, just as Jesus did, who ministered to the poor and the outcast so effectively and with so much charity.

Your comments are welcome and encouraged.

Eric

Anthony R

This next interview was actually conducted by my best friend and youth counselor, Paul Sorenson. The subject, Anthony R., was at first a bit aloof, probably skeptical. Given the nature of his recent experiences in life, we couldn't blame him. He'd had some rough months just behind him and was facing an uncertain future, unable to trust the adults in his life for reasons that are compelling to say the least. I've searched here and there on "myspace" the names he gave me at the end of the interview to no avail. I hope to hear from him again someday and wish him well.

Anthony is seated on the stairs in Pioneer Courthouse square on 3/10/07. He has small, black back pack at his feet and a guitar case at his side. He is dressed in black clothing. His hair, hidden at first by an army green cap, appears to be naturally red, though he has dyed it black on both sides, as if he has a Mohawk of red hair. He has a key ring pierced through the middle of his nose. He is alert, cooperative, and pleasant. He has a cardboard sign that says “BOSTON” in large black letters and what appears to be a guitar case.

Interview Date: March 10, 2007
Location: Portland, Oregon. Pioneer Place, about 11:30 am.
Weather: Overcast, slight intermittent sprinkles
Subject: Anthony R., 18 years old

OK Anthony, you said your name is Anthony, obviously, you got a last initial I can use?
R.

How old are you?
Eighteen.

Yes. And a home town. Do you have…?
I was born in San Diego and I grew up on a small town on the coast called Coos Bay.

Perfect, we know Coos Bay, sure, how long did you live there?
Off and on for about 13 years.

O.K. And how long did you live in San Diego?
I lived there until I was like 4. But we moved back and forth to San Diego.

O.K., perfect. Education?
Um…I got my GED actually it’s a long story behind that, but I got my GED

It was in Coos Bay I imagine?
Actually I graduated on 6/6/06.

Is that right?
Yeah.

Well hey, you graduated, that’s what’s important. And now you’re in Portland and
Just passing through?
Uh, hopefully, yeah.

Headed to Boston I see. Are you just curious as to what it’s like over there?
Closest thing I have to family.

Who lives there?
My buddy Don.

That’s your family?
That’s all I got.

Here’s kind of a weird question, How do you admire in you life? And why, I
suppose.
Well it depends on my mood I guess.

O.K.
Um…I don’t know. Could you be a little more specific?

It’s your perception, is there a person in your life, parent, friend, uncle?
Jell-O Biofra, probably.

Why?
He, uh through the late 70s through the late 90s was kind of a political activist, he supported lots of knowledge when it came to foreign affairs, this, that and the other, and he’s the lead singer to an extremely influential band that I listen too called the Dead Kennedy’s.

They just came through (town).
Yeah well, Jell-O Biofra, there’s a big huge controversy about it. He got kicked out of the band because, uh, pretty much the rest of the band sold one of their songs to Levi’s back in ‘87 I think. And there’s not about anything that has to do with corporations (in the song), and he wasn’t down for that, and, you know, everybody has a price, pretty much. And they gave him the boot and Brandon Cruise ended up singing for them for a little while and now they got some other guy, so….

Some controversy behind it all, huh?
Yeah.

What do you think is the biggest problem that you're facing today in your current situation?
Trying to get to Boston, that’s probably the only problem that I have.

Have you had any success so far with that?
I’ve got 5 bucks. That’s a start.

Now how did you get from Coos Bay to Portland?
Greyhound.

How much is a ticket to Boston?
124 dollars.

Really?
I got a good deal…well I can’t buy it but if I could…

What do you think the biggest problem in the world is today?
Lying.

Lying? Want to expound on that?
Well it’s pretty simple. Lying’s not good and…yeah.

Do you consider yourself an honest person?
I’m probably too honest for my own good.

How so? How has that caused you difficulty in your life?
I can’t lie. Sometimes I need to.

It could be a tool to your advantage?
Yeah, but it’s not the right thing.

Anthony, do you consider yourself a spiritual person?
Uh, long story behind that, essentially. I don’t believe in religion, I believe in a relationship between, you know, a person and if they believe in Jesus Christ or whatever, I mean…pardon my French but I grew up in a really fucked up church. Like, lots of really bad things. I didn’t like what I saw, they were saying something and I was seeing something else.

Eric: This isn’t a religious thing or anything like that, but, what kind of principles and morals and beliefs do you equate with a church, what would you be looking for, again this isn’t a religious thing at all.
No, that’s fine, essentially, some churches that I’ve gone to didn’t really accept my clique or my group of people or the way that I dressed or whatever because of appearance or because of a stereotype or a reputation and um,

That doesn’t sit well with you.
No, I just like people being real. Um, I mean I’m pretty laid back. Of course I have my addictions and my problems, and um, who doesn’t? The whole point of Jesus Christ dying, you know, if you believe in that or whatever, was to forgive and like, he didn’t make up all these rules, and he wasn’t all preachy and hand out pamphlets, going door to door, bugging people and yelling on the streets and pissing people off, he was just himself and people either agreed with what he had to say or not so I mean, forget all politics and this that and the other. What I’m led to believe, that’s essentially what it is.

Tell me about your family
Well my mom just actually passed away about three weeks ago

I’m sorry.
Yeah, well, it happens. Cancer. She actually had an affair with the lead worship guy in our church and they actually excommunicated my mom and he still, like, worshipped and that’s like, a big no-no and it’s messed up.

And that was in Coos Bay?
Coos Bay. My biological father currently lives in El Paso right now, um, he and my mom divorced when I was real young, um, then my mom had an affair then my step dad - different story. I grew up in a household that was Christian and you know, he (the step dad) had lots of drug abuse had a lot of people at our house. Our tires would get slashed, bricks would get thrown through our windows, this that and the other so I mean like, I wouldn’t, I mean like, they’re my relatives as far as I’m concerned, I don’t really have family, so… (Gestures towards his sign).

You’re going to see your friend Don?
Yeah.

So he’s like a brother.
Family friend. I’ve known him for quite some time, he’s not too much older than…he’s like 25 and um, and he moved out to Boston, so he’s a out there and he said, you know, we’ve got a couch for you to crash on and food to put in your stomach and get you on your feet.

Good. Where do you want to be in five years?
I want to be on tour.

Really, I see you’ve got your guitar there.
Bass.

Bass?
Yeah, I was in a band for a while …I didn’t want to wait around for the rest of my band-mates. Actually the lead singer, when I was 15 and the guitarist was 15… oh hey, we actually had an AR get a hold of us, and I had a connection. It’s weird but a friend of mine who’s a rap artist under Puff Daddy’s labels - they’re trying to start another record label, uh, and that’s like going full on metal, punk…that kind of stuff. And they’ve had their eye on us for a while and we got just a couple shows out of town and their parent’s were flying in and stuff, so it’s kinda like, me kicking myself in the ass, teasing myself waiting around, Well, you know it happens, your fifteen and…I’d probably do the same thing.

So you want to go on tour, that sounds good, and what are you doing now to make that happen?
Trying to get to Boston.

And this Don, is he like a band mate?
Um…he’s been in a few bands, I mean like, every big band goes through Boston, you know….You gotta pass through, pay your dues, get through there.

O.K. now, Anthony, I don’t want to assume anything here, you’ve got a bag here, are you homeless?
Yep.

How long has that been going on?
About two and a half weeks officially.

Is that right? Not that long.
No not that long. I’ve been squatting at a friend’s house for a month but, um…

So is that in Coos Bay and is this your first stint with homelessness?
Actually, I got kicked out of my house two weeks before Christmas last year, in ’06. This (most recent dismissal) was in Coos Bay. I found my way to Portland, stayed at a friend’s house two and a half weeks ago.

And your mom passed away three weeks ago?
Yeah.

So it’s been a rough couple of months.
Yeah, worse things have happened to better people, man.

That’s a good attitude. What kind of dangers do you face, being homeless? Or things you perceive as dangers.
Freezing to death.

You’re a pretty big guy; do you have people attack you?
Um, I can be extremely intimidating when I want to be.

It’s a tool?
Well yeah one that I hope I don’t have to use, but if worse comes to worse…

So you’re looking at kind of your way out of homelessness; getting to Boston, kind of drumming up funds right now.
Trying to.

O.K., that’s a goal, then. You’ve got the goal of playing music and things like that. Now, like all of these questions, you certainly don’t have to answer them. If you want to, do it. If you don’t, you don’t. Do you use any drugs?
Yeah, I smoke marijuana.

Is that it?
Well, um, more controversy… My belief is that addictions are more mental than physical. I mean people can be addicted to sex, people can be addicted to alcohol, people can be addicted to hitting their wife, people can be addicted to molesting their children, killing people, whatever. Everybody’s addicted to something and people are weak. Everybody needs something, and um, you know, I don’t know how many times you’ve heard this bullshit or whatever.

No, it’s great. Whatever.
But you know, it’s cheap, you know. It makes things easier. It sounds sad and pathetic, it’s not something that like, it’s not essential… it’s not like…

It’s an escape.
Yeah and considering the fact that I grew up in a house with a heroin, meth-addicted step dad and violent, I’d say that I’m pretty well off in choosing pot, right? I mean, like it can be used for good things. People believe what the media has put out there but I know people who have been smoking pot for 60 years and they’re fine, they’re totally sane, they’re stand up people. You’d be surprised at how many people use that drug and you know, like in suburban situations a lot of people pop pills and stuff and or do this and that... Back in my high school pot was the big thing, and there were really no fights. Everyone was chill with each other, we’d, you know, hang out and now and then…Like the year that I left it was getting into ecstasy and now it’s coke and like…

You mean you or the school?
No, no, no, no, no. I mean like if you’re involved in that scene at all, you’re going to know people and it’s unfortunate but…

That’s the way it’s going.
That’s the way it’s going and not only that but how many people have you heard of dying from smoking pot?

Not too many, if any.
Yeah well, and it’s physically impossible to overdose on THC. You’d be surprised at how many things actually have THC in it. I don’t know, do your homework.

Sounds good. All right, do you have any mental illnesses? Ever been diagnosed with any?
Um, I have attention-deficit-hyperactivity disorder, just ‘cause I think too fast and I’m lazy. I’m not sure if that’s a diagnosis.

So let’s see. You got kicked out, going through the cause of your homelessness…getting kicked out, that’s a pretty big cause, but what would you say landed you in the streets? I’m trying not to be redundant; you’ve kind of already covered some of this.
Ignorance, I guess

Really? How so?
Well when I wasn’t homeless I was working full time. I was supporting my younger brother and my younger sister and my mom and when my step dad moved back in I was supporting him. So I was supposed to be in high school but I was working full time, supporting four people.

This is when you were living at home.
Right, actually that whole story is that my mom became incontinent and so myself and my younger sister were taking care of her at the time. My step dad was kind of trying to sell this house or something, I’m not really too interested in that. Anyways, the story was that I saved up enough money to buy an iPod finally but… um, so I was trying to figure out how to hook the darn thing up to the computer right? So I’m sitting there, scratching my head and it’s probably about 8:30 at night and I had work the next day at 10:00 so I couldn’t get up too late or whatever.

Where did you work?
It’s a company called Affiliated Computer Services and it’s a call center for NEXTEL.

So you’re trying to set up the iPod, its eight o’clock….
Yeah, so my mom had an accident and we cleaned that up and my step dad had to go to the store to get adult diapers. Nine-thirty rolls around, ten-thirty rolls around, eleven, twelve, and my mom’s freakin’ out, which she has every right to, so my mom said, “Give me your keys.” At the time I had a car, but no license. I said, “Mom, I’m not giving you the keys.” And she said, “Drive me down to the casino.” So we went down to the casino, he wasn’t there, so we called every hospital in a fifty mile radius.

He was a gambler?
Degenerate gambler, yeah, so my mom’s freaking out, calls a family friend, they’re going to go back to the casino ‘cause I didn’t want to drive. It was, I don’t know what time it was at night so I was just like forget it, I’m just going to stay awake and just go to work at four. Um, so I was pulling 16 hour days, four days a week. That wasn’t very much fun.

You’re basically supporting three kids – well, two kids and you and your mom - the household.
Well, we had food stamps at least, but I was trying to save up money so I could get up here and get a job and get everything going, so anyways… sorry, rabbit trail. So anyways, he walks in through the door about 3:30 am, and my mom’s like, “Where were you, we were so worried,” blah-blah-blah, this that and the other and he says, “Don’t worry about it” and I had to bite my lip very, very hard and then they kind of got into it and then a family friend showed up, the one that my mom called. Then everything was fine, everyone was laughing, and then Tom turned around to me and said, “You need get off the computer” and I was like, “I’ve got ten more CDs to download, it’s going to take about ten minutes each I’m going to go to work in like a half hour anyways, just… I’ll be done, give me some time.” “Oh, you need to get off right now I told you you were only allowed to be on there for this amount of time.” I said, “Well wait a second, you left at 8:30, it’s 3 o’clock in the morning so…” Earlier in the conversation he admitted that he wanted to get into a bar fight, turns out he was playing pool, with the last of the money that I gave him to get the diapers and we didn’t have any Christmas money at all, so I was like “That’s fucked up.” And then he ended up about throwing the kitchen table at me then picking me up by my throat slamming me up against the wall, and I looked at him and said, “If beating up your 18 year old son who supports you is going to make you feel better, um…” And he let me go and I put some things in my back pack and I said good-bye. And my mom’s upset and she’s like, “Why are you leaving and I was like….”

Can’t deal with this guy.
Yeah. And I mean, she had an insurance policy for about $80,000 and they, my mom ended up spending about $50,000 of it on the fines that he had, trying to get a license, fixing up that house that they were using and the remainder of it was going to go towards buying a Figaro’s (Pizza Store) in North Bend, Oregon and him and his step dad were going to cash out on it. So pretty much, he used my mom, like to the most vile degree. And um, I wasn’t down with that. I wasn’t going to be around it, my mom wasn’t herself, I mean like, when you go through four rounds of chemotherapy you’re not the same person, I couldn’t have a conversation. I couldn’t say, “how are you doing”, and um, so I left because I didn’t want to see my mom even worse than she already was. Oh, my mom was already dead, so I left and she passed away when I was up here. I came down for the small service. There was a home service. My father actually flew in from El Paso so I got to see him.

That’s cool.
And I’m up here.

And your siblings?
My younger sister’s sixteen. Um, a sophomore.

Still in Coos Bay with your step dad?
Unfortunately.

And your brother?
He’s nine.

He’s your step brother?
Yeah, but I consider him my brother.

And your sister, is she your step sister?
She’s my biological sister.

Now, just real quick, how does your biological dad fit into this, is he an option to go stay with?
Um, yes and no. His current girlfriend has some sort of liver disease, and is going through menopause and she’s like 41…

Pretty young.
Yeah, so he’s having to deal with having another significant other being extremely ill. I have a grandfather who also lives in El Paso but he travels a lot and goes to Europe. He’s a college professor and teaches art down there.

Well there’s your ticket to college if you want to go down there.
Well, like I said, my family’s in Boston.

Um, alright. That’s a ton of info. I appreciate your candor and your honesty.
May I ask what this is for?

Yeah definitely, we’re actually just interested in homeless youth in general. These interviews may turn into a book. I’m a social worker, he’s a builder.
That’s O.K. I used to roof and ended up putting up dry wall.

Did you really? That’s good to know, it good to have something to fall back on.
I hope so; I tried to get in, down in Coos Bay. It’s a small town - not even 20,000 people - and so I could walk up to a house and be like, “I can do this and this and this and this and I’m a quick learner, hard worker.” They’d say, “O.K., come on back.” I could earn $150. It’s cool. I come up here…”Are you part of a union? What are your credentials?” Do you have like a website a way I could…?

Not yet.
Set up a “myspace”, they’re free.

That’s a good point, we could do that. We don’t have…
Marketing. I’m serious. I’ll give you my email address, because if this book does go to publish, I want to know about it. It’s myspace.com/richardsmack. My dad knew someone named Richard Smack and they called him Dick Smack (we all laugh). I’ve had my fair share of life times (smiles).

When we get something up and running we’ll send you a link to it.
My name is “lonelytylenol”; it’s one of those palindromes. Like “amanapanama”, “racecar” and “stats”. But I thought “lonelytylenol” was funny.

Did you come up with that?
Yeah, I’m not stupid, I’m going try and go to school. I’m going to go to school. Right now I’m young, just trying to live life. I had a rough life before and right now I honestly just want to party.

World On Fire

Hey!

Thanks to my good friend Rhonda, I am able to post the Sarah McLachlan video for "World On Fire". This video is among my favorite of all time (right up there with Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit"...but that's another thing entirely:) - it never fails to make me realize how lucky I am in so many ways.

Thanks again Rhonda, and here's the video!

Eric

http://musicbox.sonybmg.com/video/sarah_mclachlan/world_on_fire

Vision

Hi everybody-

I thought I’d take a minute this holiday season to share a little of my vision for this blog and the people it’s about. The purpose of sharing this is not only to let you know what my plans are but to give you the opportunity to share your thoughts about what we might do together to give people like these youth a second chance – or first chance, depending on how you look at it.

Before I get into my vision, let me tell you a problem I have. I have been interviewing these young people for years. Almost without exception I come up with questions that I would have liked to have asked after we have already parted ways. But once we say goodbye they’re gone and I have no way to get in touch with them again. In some cases it’s even worse. In instances like Sarah from L.A. and Anthony R. from Portland (you haven’t met him yet) for instance, I am absolutely haunted by some of their responses, by their revelations to me. In those most powerful and touching interviews I wonder for weeks and even months about how I could have helped them. They really become a part of me. You may remember how at the end of my interview with Sarah I told her she could do what she described, have a normal life one day. You weren’t there, but you should have seen the thanksgiving in her eyes and heard the tone in her voice as she expressed thanks for someone giving her a message that was positive. This heroin-addicted fugitive of the law, this nineteen-year old girl who had been homeless for almost half her life was so grateful for a kind word! In the end it was apparent to me that she was not as hard as she looked. That revelation to me, particularly in retrospect as I have transcribed and replayed and reconsidered the interview, makes me long to help her much more than I was able. I have come to realize that if I had something in place when I interviewed these young people I might be able to do something lasting for them. This blog is the result of a suggestion by one of my “kids”. Ultimately it might be one way they could contact me to allow me to at least follow up with them. A good friend of our family’s in California suggested that I take information with me about local shelters, services and the like and give them out to anyone interested, but particularly my kids. I am open to your thoughts as well – please leave them as comments on this blog. Maybe we can all feed off one another’s thoughts and come up with some really great ideas.

So far, however, here’s where I am as far as my vision goes. My good friends Denny and Leslie in Seattle run Mammas Hands, a very special shelter for women and children. Please check out their site when you get a second. It’s http://www.mammashands.com/. Anyway, one of the cool things Denny does is run his “phone bus”. He actually allows homeless folks to use his phones to call someone back home to reconnect. Often these are runaways that are ready to go home. If someone on the other end of the line is actually a guardian and will take them home, Denny finds a way to send them. I absolutely have to do this one day – it’s part of my vision. Someone like Sarah who doesn’t have a family she feels she could contact and who has some more serious problems might need more hands-on help. In her instance, she felt she needed to get to San Francisco so she could serve out her prison sentence and get on free methadone which would help her and her boyfriend get off heroin and get them a new start. Wouldn’t it be great if our group could send her and her boyfriend up to San Francisco by bus? We would arrange for someone who operates a shelter to meet them at the bus stop and help them along. I realize this is idealistic and full of holes right now and that early on there might be those that would try to take advantage of our generosity. But so what? Haven’t we all taken advantage of God’s kindness at times – taken it for granted at the very least? Besides, I know we could help some of them; we could get some of them off the street! If we get taken advantage of here and there at first before we perfect our screening, we do. We’ll learn as we go. Of course we get as much knowledge as we can from those that have done similar things, but we don’t worry about a failure here and there. In the end, each small failure helps our group be more effective at our mission – to raise awareness of the young homeless and assist them in their lives.

Well, thanks for reading and for your great comments. It’s so encouraging to hear your, well… encouragement! I hope to hear some more ideas now, too. Best wishes for a Merry Christmas! The next interview will be posted sometime before December 15.

Eric

PS. If you are iTunes compatible, I stongly urge you to purchase Sarah McLachlan's video for "World On Fire" from iTunes or a similar legal service. It's touching to me every time I see it - it's my favorite video. I've been in contact with her management to get permission to use it on my site to no avail ... so far!

Eric

Sarah S

Not everyone on the street is a male. There are plenty of homeless girls and women out there as well. I met Sarah during a recent visit to Los Angeles. I basically skipped out on a seminar I went down there to attend, for a couple reasons that I won't get into here. As soon as I left, I decided to go try to get an interview. I was near the Staples Center, in downtown L.A. It was a beautiful day. I walked a couple blocks and saw a drug deal in broad daylight, but no homeless people, so I went back to get my truck from parking and drove down the street. Before long I came to an area that looked promising; L.A.'s "Fashion District." This is mostly warehouse after warehouse filled with clothes, stuffed toys, trinkets and the like, with storefronts. I saw some interesting looking people, some of whom were having "internal dialogues", but not what I was hoping to find. In fact, it appeared a bit too safe, with some freaky-looking folks about, but a lot of normal ones as well, particuarly as the morning wore on. I drove to another area and walked around a while with the same results. Who knew it would be so hard to find the homeless in LA? After an hour or so, I bought some lunch (the only cheap place I found in three days in LA) and headed back towards my truck to eat and consult my map. When I was sitting there looking at my map, a guy walked by twice, hesitated and then tapped on my window. I rolled it down and greeted him.

"Are you lost?", he asked. I took this as a good sign that I was in the right area.

I explained what I was doing and learned that he was in his early 50's, recently laid off from Federal Express and homeless. He lives in the area. He appeared willing to talk to me, but since he did not fit my profile and I was anxious to talk to someone who did, I did not take the time to formally interview him. However, he did say that on Friday and Saturday nights the place I sat is alive with runaways, many of whom get picked up by people in expensive cars. He seemed surprised by what he had seen, being recently homeless himself. He also said that there was a trendous amount of mental sickness among the homeless. Since I had walked around a bit, I could concur. It was a pleasant conversation, even though the subject matter was disturbing. I gave him some lunch, he gratefully took it and I sat for a while, thinking about what he had said. I felt prompted to get out of my truck once more and walk down the street I was parked on. As I did so, I came to a homeless shelter. A near-toothless man came to me and asked if he could help me. I told him my story. Apparently he was one of the operators of this homeless shelter and he was only too glad to help. We talked for a while, he offered a prayer and I went back to my truck to call the shelter he had mentioned, a homeless ministry for youth called simply, "Hope For Homeless Youth". I called but was unable to get Pastor Clayton, the man who runs it. I felt odd, talking to a secretary who doesn't know me at all, asking if she knew where I could find some homeless kids in light of the fact that they are a main diet of sick sexual predators, but that's what I have to do sometimes. I did get the address of the shelter however, and determined to drive to the area and see what I could see. I also left my number in case Pastor Clayton returned.

This time I really got lost.

As I drove around in the maddening traffic, I saw a policeman who was in the process of impounding a young man's vehicle. He was amused by my request but directed me to the (in)famous Sunset Strip, not far away. It was now mid-afternoon, but I finally arrived in an area with a homeless young person or two. This interview is the second one of two I conducted that afternoon. I guess I told you that "how I got the interview" story so you can see it's not always easy to find these kids!

As you read this interview, keep a couple things in mind. First, that Sarah left her home when she was 11. Some of the reasons she lists for leaving are exactly what an 11-year old would say if asked why she left home. I don't doubt that Sarah has not matured much emotionally or mentally since she left home, although she was pleasant and polite. But again, we have an individual that is on the street because of some pretty horriffic scenes from her home life. I know there are two sides to every story, but...well, you'll just have to read for yourself. Also again, I am amazed at the desire these people have for their families, disfunctional as they are. She has hope to normalize her life, although she knows she has to go through some pretty serious change first, including it seems, prison time in San Francisco. Finally, she unwittingly gave a bit of a plug for the "3-Strikes You're Out" legislation that is on the books in many areas. Your local politician might like that.

By the way, if you are offended by "four-letter words", you might want to skip this one. There aren't too many, but a few. I am torn by my own efforts to curb the use of offensive language in my own life, so typing those words seems like the wrong thing to do. However, I also feel it is important to remain true in as many ways as possible to their own words, so type them I will. At least until my industrial-strength conscience gets the best of me!

NOTE: Pastor Clayton called me a day or two after I got back home. We had a nice conversation. It appears that he is doing a great work down there. One of the projects he has coming up is a Christmas Party for the youth in his shelter. He needs $3,000 to make it happen. If you want to help, contact him through his website: www.hopeforhomelessyouth.org. Make sure you tell him where you heard of him!

Here's the actual interview:
I met Sarah in Los Angeles, near the Sunset strip. I was uncertain at first if she was a male or female; her blocky shape and square-ish face coupled with lifeless eyes made me wonder. She was holding a sign that said, “No Excuses Just Need Help.” She was filty, with dirt all over her neck and arms. I'm certain she had not bathed in weeks. I asked her if I could take her away from her busy corner if I gave her $10 for her time to ask her some questions about her life. She hesitated for a moment and then said it was okay, but she’d have to clear it with her boyfriend first, which she did. When she returned, I told her that I was going to ask some questions and that she did not have to respond, but if she did I wanted the whole truth. She agreed and we sat on a curb on sunny Hollywood Boulevard and had a nice conversation for a few minutes.

What’s your name?
Sarah.

Last initial?
S.

What’s your age?
I’m 19.

Where is your hometown?
I was born in Portland, Oregon and I’ve been in San Francisco for the last three years.

Are you homeless? Yeah.

Do you sleep outside then?
Yeah, I sleep wherever I lay my head (laughs).

And how long have you been homeless?
I’ve been homeless for about eight years.

Tell me about your family.
Um, my mom and dad, they got divorced when I was six. My dad was really abusive.

Abusive towards you?
No, just my mom and my brother. I started running away when I was 10 and 11 and my mom couldn’t handle it so she kicked me out.

Are you in contact with them at all?
No. I haven’t talked to them for three or four years.

Are they still in Oregon, do you know?
Yeah.

Are you in a situation where you could call them if you absolutely had to have some help of some kind, or are you completely separated from them?
I’m completely separated from them. Like maybe if I got my shit together and start taking responsibility, you know, and have something they can see, like I’m doing good for myself, then maybe I can have them back in my life.

What does “get your shit” together mean to you?
Just like stop playing around and stuff, like, instead of being out here on the streets and like, go back to school and get a job and stuff.

What grade level are you at?
Seventh.

You left school in seventh grade?
Yeah.

What made you run away when you were so young?
I just hanged out with older people, I guess…I wanted more responsibility I guess, thinking I could take care of myself. My family life was really chaotic. And…I also got involved in a relationship that was a lot older than me.

How much older?
I was 11 and he was 27. And um, he had a place and so, like it was ok I could go over with him.

And where is he now?
In Oregon somewhere I guess.

I’m going to ask you a question. If you don’t want to answer it, you don’t have to answer, just say, “I don’t want to answer”. But if you do answer, I need you to tell me the whole truth if you do answer it, ok?
OK.

Do you use drugs?
Yes.

Any hard drugs, like heroin –
Yeah.

Or meth?
Uh, I haven’t done meth for a while. Years.

Are drugs hard to get on the street out here?
You just got to know where to go and stuff. Pretty much where there’s a bunch of homeless people around…

Then there’s going to be drugs there?
Probably.

What have you seen on the street that’s surprised you? I mean, you’ve been on the street for eight years.
Actually, just like, stuff that’s scared me. Stuff like that. Like, when I first came to LA. I was sleeping with my boyfriend and some guy, like, in the middle of my sleep, fuckin’ started touching me and shit like that. I was really…that really scared me.

I would imagine. What happened to that guy?
My boyfriend chased after him and, like I had to get my boyfriend ‘cause he was going to kill him or something. (Pause) And, like, pretty much you’ve seen it – I’ve seen guns, I’ve seen people OD…I’ve never seen anybody get murdered or anything like that, but I’ve seen people get hurt really bad though. And it’s like - I can’t believe someone could just do that out of… just do that.

Do you feel like you’re going to be able, Sarah, at some point, to get off the street? Is that something that you want to do eventually?
Yeah, it’s something I want to do. And like, right now I’m going through a hard situation 'cause I’m, uh, on Prop 36 and Prop 36 here in LA is for drug offenders and it’s a program for them to get their shit together, and you’re on probation and shit like that. And it’s really hard for me ‘cause I want to give up the drugs and stuff like that, but my boyfriend’s doing it; it’s around me. Like, this is the chance for me to get my shit together and I’m having a hard time with it ‘cause I’m not used to it.

So do you feel like you’re in a situation where you’re suffering from withdrawals right now, or are you not even able to stop long enough to get withdrawals?
(Chuckles) I go through withdrawals but I can’t, like…‘cause it’s around me all the time, so it’s like, I don’t have to go through withdrawals. And it’s like, I’m going through a hard time ‘cause it’s like, my mind right now it’s just like, I’ll just run from it and… but then the other part of me is like, I know it’s going to catch up to me and I only get two, three times on this program and then I go to prison and that’s like, something I’m not going for.

What’s Prop 36? Is that, like a “three strikes you’re out” kind of thing?
Yeah.

Is that motivating you at all? Is that motivating you to want to get clean?
Yeah, yeah, it does, and it’s also motivating my boyfriend, too, to, like, get on methadone.

Is he on methadone?
Not yet. Here they charge for methadone; in San Francisco it’s free.

I see. So, do you think you’ll get on it at some point?
I hope so.

So that’s what you’d like to do then – get on methadone and try to get off heroin then?
Yeah. And that’s one thing right now that me and my boyfriend are talking about – is that, we go to San Francisco. And, I know if I go to San Francisco I’m going to have a warrant out for my arrest, but I get three turns, you know? And my boyfriend will be back in San Francisco where he’s from and be able to get on his methadone and be able to get a job and shit. And he said that… ‘cause we’re engaged… that, he’ll be able to get things going for us. So when I get done with my program and stuff, that, we’ll have a life and stuff. So…

That’s good! That’s a plan, right?
Yeah (brightens). It’s just really hard when, like, all I know is, like, wake up in the morning, lookin’ for my hit, or food, like, kind of like my routine is. And then unexpected stuff like, well, if I don’t do anything today what’s gonna happen tomorrow? Like, when I go see my P.O. (parole officer), what kind of stuff is he gonna tell me I have to go do, or what new program am I gonna do and stuff like that.

Her boyfriend, a rather handsome red-haired man in his early 20’s, approaches and hands her a new sign identical to her old one.
Here’s your boyfriend now. How’s it, man? My name’s Eric!
My name’s Mitch. (We shake hands. It looks like he’s trying to size me up a bit, maybe trying to ascertain what I’m really doing here.)

Nice to meet you, Mitch.
You too. (He smiles pleasantly and, seemingly satisfied, walks away)

A new sign!
It’s nice (smile). Yeah, that old one was lookin’ pretty bad.

So, as I explained, I am going to put this interview online. Is there anything you would tell people - is there any advice you could give the world, anyone that’s going to read this interview, what would you say?
(Looks confused).

Let me rephrase that.
(Chuckles).

What would you tell an 11 year old girl? If you could look back and talk to yourself as an 11 year old girl, what would you say?
Hmm…(long pause). Just that, your parents are just lookin’ out for you and you might think you know everything, and you might be more responsible than your parents or your family, but you need your family. And once you go one the streets it’s really hard to get your stuff together. Like, there’s people that have been out here for years and their chances are all gone, done, because they don’t have any programs for people that are over a certain age.

You mentioned that an eleven-year old can be more responsible than their parents; was that the case for you when you ran?
Yeah.

How were they that irresponsible?
It was just like, my mom… I have a brother and my mom put a lot of responsibility on me to take care of my brother. I mean, we were only 15 months apart but still, like, I had to make sure he went to school, I had to make sure he ate, I made dinner and stuff like that. I had to like, clean my own room and help him clean his room and it was because my mom would be like, “he is the only boy in four generations, he needs to be spoiled”. And there was a lot of abuse ‘cause, my brother and I would fight and so I would get in trouble with my mom and she would like, take it all out on me and not my brother. My mom was physically abusive to me and, like, sexually abusive a little bit.

Your mom?
It was more like, I don’t know like, sadistic kinds of stuff.

That sounds pretty horrific for a little girl to go through. Was your dad abusive?
No, he wasn’t, not to me. (Goes back to the previous question) Yeah…well…I don’t know if it was really sexually abusive, like, she would take clothes pins, right? And, like, she’d stick them all over my body and stuff. And like, my mom, she’d have porn stuff all over the computers and shit like that and guys comin’ over all the time.

Sounds pretty tough.
I guess I grew up around sex at a young age and maybe that’s what made me run away. Because when I was with that guy I was like, “I’m in love”, you know.

Yeah. Well, thanks for your candor, Sarah. Thanks for being so honest about your life.
That’s cool.

Maybe it will help someone who’ll read it.
Yeah, I’ve maybe given them an eye opener about what’s happening out here and stuff.

You know, I’ve been dong this a few years and I’ve heard some hard stories and yours is one of them. I think you can pull out, though.
Thank you. That’s nice to hear. All my P.O. tells me is that I’ll never make it, so it’s, like, nice to hear someone say that.

Anthony D, Portland, Oregon

This young man was very interesting. Although I have a stock set of questions, I seldom get through them all - the stories these young people tell make the interviews kind of take on a life of their own. Anthony really illustrates to me the power of the maternal relationship. You'll see why as well. Suffice it to say that his mom won't be winning any "mother of the year" awards, yet he holds her in the highest esteem. He also is grateful - to the point of tears - for the "normal" things he "gets" to do now that he's not as homeless as he once was, like getting a haircut. Finally, we get to see the power of a true Good Samaritan - may we all learn from her example.

Please feel free to comment!
Eric

Anthony D. was at Pioneer Square at about 9:30 am on a Saturday morning. He was talking to a security guard on the steps so we approached him. He is about 5’10”, white kid with short hair. He looked like any other young man you might see. He looks younger than his 23 years due to his beardless face, clear skin and ruddy countenance. He wore two stylish sweatshirts, a blue Ecko over a red one. We would later find out that these were well used. He wore a cap, with baggy pants and skater shoes. His eyes were clear, and although he spoke with a determined drawl and tended to jump from topic to topic rather quickly, he seemed intelligent, well spoken and polite.

Interview Date: Portland, Oregon March 10, 2007
Location: Pioneer Square, about 10:00 am
Weather: Overcast
Subject: Anthony D, 23 years old.

Where is your hometown?
I was born in Klamath Falls, but I consider Portland to be my hometown now. I’ve lived in Portland for the past approximately 16 years, so…

So your family still lives in Klamath Falls?
My aunt died of a heroin overdose 3 years ago. I had two cousins that went into some kind of foster home a couple years ago, and they got split up. One of my brothers just got back from Iraq last year. He’s in Medford, and my mom is homeless in Medford. But as far as I know, she’s supposed to be coming up here because her boyfriend got a big social security check and he left her. I mean, the last time we lived together I was a younger teenager. I started using drugs when I was 14. Me and my mom would use together.

Your Mom gave you drugs first?
Yes.

Wow. Do you have a father figure in your life?
No.

What’s your education level?
I have a GED. I got it when I was 16. But I’m in college part time now. I have a lot of problems. I had a friend that was in a gang (I think explaining here why he has a GED instead of a diploma). My friend Ren was hit in the head with a bottle and shot in the head with a .22 and they found his body by the Parkrose district. That was pretty shocking. These were the same guys that were going to my school, and I found out that they didn’t like me either, so for my personal safety they removed me from school. So I went to Job Corp and I graduated from there, which was a very big accomplishment. I studied a business course, business clerical, business technology. I came back and I worked for a while, but after my mom left, she left me here when I was 18 almost 19 because she was getting really heavy into drugs and she couldn’t support her drug habit. She ended up choosing her drug habit over the rent, bills and everything; we lost everything, and I ended up living out on the street. Basically I met a guy named C. that I had went to Job Corp with actually, and he had already been living on the streets at least a couple years. He was using lots of heroin and cocaine and injecting it. He looked terrible. (I remember the awe on his face when he said this. That awe will be more significant when we learn how bad Anthony finally got before he got clean). I was already strung out myself, so me and him decided that we wanted to try to get clean so we went to Hooper Detox and I stayed in there 4 days but I got too sick to stay in there and I couldn’t handle it. I was so sick. Heroin withdrawal; it feels like you’re in a lot of pain. You shiver, you’re weak, you pour sweat, I mean you practically live on the toilet. Since I was only able to handle withdrawals for 4 days, I came out and I used for a little bit longer and then I started injecting instead of smoking the heroin. So instead of my habit getting better it got worse. I went into a seven or eight month spiral down and I hit rock bottom.

How did you know when you hit bottom?
I had nothing. My clothes were dirty, I stunk – I hadn’t taken a shower for probably two months.

Do you remember a day specifically when you felt things had to change?
Yeah. I went to Providence Hospital. They wouldn’t take me at first – I had to tell them that if they let me back out the doors I was just going to end my life. I was so tired of being in that place – suffering every morning…I mean. I was practically on my knees to these drug dealers I was so strung out because it’s so painful to withdrawal from. So that’s why they came out with Methadone clinics, to ease the withdrawal symptoms.

You’re in one now?
Yeah, I just came from one I go each day. (Pulls out a small white vial full of pink liquid with a prescription on it). I drink one of these per day. There’s a stigma about methadone clinics. I mean, they judge you and they have no education on it.

He pauses here and pulls out a hand-rolled cigarette.
“I’m going to smoke a cigarette if you don’t mind.”

At this I move back since I was slightly downwind from him. I didn’t want to give him the wrong impression so I told him it was no problem, I was simply allergic.
“You are? Oh, okay then.”

Even though I protested that it was fine, and it really would have been, he politely held that cigarette and the lighter in his hand the remainder of our interview.
When I hit rock bottom, I couldn’t get a hold of my mom or nobody, but I happened to find out where she was because she was calling around – she called my ex-girlfriend’s house. We lived together a long time. She was not a user, but she knew that I was. When she found out that my aunt died, I was getting ready to turn 21. She came out, found me at Lloyd Center Park and told me of the death of my aunt of the overdose. That’s when I hit rock bottom. I weighed about 115 pounds. Now I weigh about 165. That’s when I went to Providence Hospital. Now I have these scars. (Lifts his sweatshirts to show silver-dollar sized smooth scars on his left arm and permanent track marks). I mean, the last time I injected, I must have been doing it 15 times a day. The doctor at Providence said I had two months left to live since my veins were about to collapse because of all the damage. The biggest scar came from some bad heroin – it had rat feces in it or something so it got all infected.

Pointing to another scar on the bottom of his arm just above his right elbow, he says, “I got this scar when I got stabbed. I was camping behind a church 2 summers ago. A black guy tried to rob me. I didn’t have anything, so he tried to kill me. He pulled out a knife and I immediately dove to the ground. He tried to stab me and some people looked out their windows. I was kind of across the street from an apartment complex and they saw the guy and they yelled at me and finally some lady came out and hit him with a 2x4 and saved my life. That wound was really deep – it almost went through my whole arm.

The police, they treat you like crap when you’re homeless. I mean, not all of them but some of them. That’s why I tried not to sleep downtown, but I did if I had to because there is space and it’s pretty safe there. I’d get a friend and we’d go to the waterfront park and sleep there sometimes.

Whom do you admire most in your life?
I admire my mom, for actually being able to raise me and deal with all the problems she’s had in her life. And all the people that have died around us, and she’s still managed to stay strong and be there most of the times that I’ve needed her. When the doc told me I had two months left to live, they (Providence Hospital) bought me a bus ticket to wherever I wanted to go and I told them I wanted to go see my mom because I knew that she would know what to do to save my life. They knew that I needed to get away from the drugs. I’m really grateful they did that. Very grateful.

Is that when you stopped being homeless?
Not completely, but she took me in for about 5-6 months to get me to recuperate. She got me onto the Jackson Co. health by telling them that I was a “suicide user” because of how many times I was injecting a day. They said I was chasing that feeling of how I thought I should feel. I couldn’t feel it though, since my body was so messed up the drug was only making me feel normal, and without it would just feel sick. It was almost worthless. I found out that the counselor paid for my treatment for that whole 8 months that I was there. I was suicidal, too. The Oregon Health Plan really helped me out by helping pay for that. I have really been helped out. I’ve had some people outside that have really been there for me. Jackson County has really helped me too. After the 6 months I got back here. I took the Greyhound back and forth a couple times. I stayed with my brother Chris (the brother that served in Iraq) because I didn’t have anywhere else to stay. So I stayed there for about 16 days. We were about 17 miles from where he had to take me every morning to get my medicine. I really look up to him, too. He was so strong during our childhood. We were all separated during our childhood because our parents sold cocaine and heroin. My brother J. moved up here and he’s up here and he started going downhill and he and I were homeless together for a while, so my mom gave us a whole bunch of pot to sell. That sells like candy. Me and my friend decided to sell it and get a place to stay, at a hotel or at someone’s house. We ended up staying with a friend but still we were still going house-to-house, couch hopping. Sometimes I knew the people and sometimes I didn’t. One place I went, they were cooking meth and I got out of there because I was scared. I got a lot of info from my friends and I started thinking what would happen if the police came and kicked in the door? I would go to jail too because I know what they were doing.

Another time the police approached me. They saw me going in and out of the methadone clinic and they came up and offered me $200 for every person I turned in that was selling crack cocaine since they knew that I knew. I told them, “Does it look like I want to have a target on my forehead?” and I told them no. I mean, I read in this morning’s paper about some girl that had been shot because she testified against a guy that had robbed her with a pistol on 122nd. And they caught him on the 17th of January because he was in connection with a robbery because he robbed the Blockbuster Video. About 10 guys went in there, this guy pulled a gun and they just cleaned the place out. So this girl testified against this guy and he killed her. There are so many stories like this. I mean, they’re just ruthless. Not only this other stuff, but they’ll take your blankets, they’ll take anything you leave behind.

What’s the biggest problem you face today?
I just want to make sure my future is secure. I just believe that nobody deserves to be homeless. I’m concerned about having a home. I’m not homeless anymore, but I still worry about it.

You have a place to stay right now?
Yeah, this lady who is a caregiver – her name is Molly- she’s taking care of his lady that has MS who is paralyzed from the waist down. When the lady dies she is going to give Molly the condo where we live now. She does stuff for me just like we’re a real family. My birthday was on the 8th and she remembered. I guess she does this stuff because she’s really religious – she’s a Catholic. She gave me these. (Tears come up as he pulls out rosary beads and a crucifix). The way I met her, I was sleeping on a bench over by the Gateway area in January. It was so cold I had my arms in my sweatshirts and I had my head down in my shirt – I had my hood on and everything. This was when I didn’t have a haircut or anything, either. Now I get to do some normal stuff like get a haircut. But she just told me she had some space in her place so I came home with here. I do a little maintenance work for her – I just feel like I have another chance now.

What are you going to do different now? What’s going to be different this time?
I enrolled at Mt. Hood 14-15 months ago. There were some problems getting in, but I found a way to do it. I want to study law maybe, or maybe be a counselor. I want to be able to be in a position where I can use my experiences to help people. I want to make a positive difference somehow. There was a girl that I really wanted to save, and she ended up dying. She had so many track marks from heroin, and she ended up dying. I have now 12 friends that have died from suicide, violence and drugs. The majority were overdoses.

Do you consider yourself a spiritual person?
I believe that God…the condition I’m in now, there’s no way I could have done that without some God’s help. I mean, I’m really healthy now. I gained 40 pounds in a month. I feel strong enough to say no to the drugs. The methadone helps a lot (goes into detail about how methadone physically helps and how heroin keeps you addicted). I have two arrests, thefts, on my record from being homeless. The cops had me on video running across the street from Lloyd Center to my dealer with clothes I had just ripped off. They didn’t want me, they wanted my friend K. really bad because he was a habitual offender and he was getting real bad and becoming a hit man. I never saw anything from him, but I did see a stabbing once a long time ago. This one guy stabbed another guy in the arm and blood was just shooting out. Another time I was walking with my friend and out of no where he whips out a knife, pulls this Mexican towards him and tells him to spit out all his drugs – he had them in balloons in his mouth - and give him his wallet. The Mexican guy started struggling and threw his wallet on the ground and I just got out of there. I didn’t want to be a part of any of that.

Do you see prostitution going on?
Yeah. There’s like guy predators. I got picked up by this guy predator once. He let me sleep in the sleeper and he slept in the front of the semi-truck. He ended up trying to put his hands in my pants. I got up and I acted like I just didn’t know what just happened and I got my stuff and I told him that I’d be right back and I left and called the cops. I called the trucking company, too. But the sexual predators come down here and they prey on homeless. This happens a lot. A lot. They look for vulnerable kids that don’t have a place to stay; they’re hooked on drugs. They use their weakness against them. They say ‘I’ll make you well if you give me sexual favors.’ They prey on boys, girls – it doesn’t matter. Prostitution happens a lot. I lived with three prostitutes once. They would bring a lot of heroin home at the end of the day.

Do you have hobbies?
Yes, I like video games, playing basketball, I like electronics, playing football…did I mention video games? I like to go to the park, watch TV sometimes. I like to research all kinds of different things. I like to learn, so I get on the internet and research things sometimes.

Youth Stories - What Is It?

Hi. My name is Eric. I'm what lots of young people would call an "old guy", since I'm in my early 40's. I have to tell you, I couldn't agree more. It's amazing how a person ages - you get to keep lots of the same things you loved as a kid, but your body feels different. But this blog isn't about me, nor is it really about the aging process. It's really more about the critical years of a person's life between the ages of about 14 and 24, and what's happening to many people in that age group from which you usually avert your eyes; the pierced, tattooed, unkempt, obnoxious sleepers-in-doorways of our cities.

Let me tell you a bit about this blog and why I am writing it. About 5 years ago, I was observing some fairly obnoxious young people like those I mentioned above in my (then) home town of Salem, Oregon. I thought to myself, "What makes those kids act like that? Do they have parents that care about them? What are their stories?" I also noticed that many people looked down on them, cursed them and were afraid of them. I'd even caught myself feeling that way at times. Since I am one who has learned to say, "there but for the grace of God go I," I decided to act. I bought a digital tape recorder and thought up about 15 questions, intending to start interviewing youth of all types, just to see what makes them tick. The first dozen or so youth I interviewed were homeless or nearly so and had such compelling, heartbreaking stories I haven't interviewed any youth from what I'd call "well-to-do" or even "middle class" homes. After all, I have those in my own home. I am more interested at this time in finding out what I can do and what can society do to assist those people whose first and most egregious sin in life apparently was to be born to irresponsible parents, who are unable to love them and care for them, or were in the wrong place at the wrong time, or a combination of the above. Don't misunderstand me; I am not one of those that feels that we can blame all our missteps on our parents, our situations into which we are born, or any external event or force. We are what we make of ourselves and no one is immune from problems. But let me assure you that as you read these stories (which I will post monthly near the 15th), you will feel for these youth and hopefully thank your own parents for providing you with a better start (presumably) than the bulk of these kids. Anything can happen to anyone. The wealthiest family can be destitute in a day - another reason to to be careful about how you treat someone unlike yourself. Because "there but for the grace of God" ... go ALL OF US.

Unfortunately, the bulk of the interviews I had done were ripped off (they were in a backpack), so I've had to start over. I will post one per month for the next twelve months. I am headed down to LA next week for a seminar and I hope to pick up a couple interviews there. My final goal is to one day make this into a book similar in style to Studs Terkel's classic, "Working". But if not, if reading these stories makes my readers more compassionate towards these invisible siblings of ours, I'll be happy.

One final note. Since I do hope to publish these interviews in book form, please post comments to this page so they can be read by possible future publishers. I would assume that the greater interest I can show for these young people through your comments, the greater chance we have of getting these published! If I do get this published, I hope to continue to raise awareness and to eventually create and operate an environment for those that wish to get off the streets similar to Mammas Hands, a privately run shelter near Seattle. Visit them at http://www.mammashands.com/. Their story is truly amazing.

Eric

Bend, Oregon