Lost in Minneapolis

Memoir of my time when I was homeless in Minneapolis

Staying sick and Cold in Minneapolis

Chapter one: It was a miserable time of my life

My name’s Lawson Wallace. I live in South Carolina with my wife Olivia. My wife has been after me to write a book about when I was homeless and how we met. I decided to publish the book here on Illumination Book Chapters.

The story is true as best as I can remember it. Some things though were blocked out. I have included background from when I was younger for context.

In this chapter: I kept getting sick, and I get a bed upstairs

When you’re homeless, Thanksgiving and Christmas is a depressing time of year. Some good things happened though. When I left the place where I was thrown out, I left most of my stuff in the basement, including a leather jacket.

All I had was an ill-fitting jean jacket. All the other homeless around me had thick winter coats. It was getting close to Thanksgiving when a guy from the Baptist Church across the street from the shelter came through the waiting area passing out flyers.

I was woefully unprepared

The church was giving away stuff, I read the list and headed to the church. “May I help you?” The church volunteer asked. I looked around and the piles of clothes on the tables.

“Yeah, I’m staying at the shelter across the street, and I need a coat.” The volunteer beckoned me to follow him to a table, five minutes later, after telling the man my story and having him pray for me, I walked out wearing a heavy coat.

Small Blessings, God was looking out for me

A few days later, someone left a new pair of gloves on the ground by my pickup, and a few days after I found the gloves, a woman came through the waiting area, she was giving away hand-knitted hats and scarves.

“I might survive the winter after all.” I thought as I put on my new hat and wrapped the scarf around my neck. I survived, but I kept getting sick.

Two upper respiratory infections in one month

I sat in the caseworker’s office. I just returned from the hospital with my second upper-respiratory infection that month. “I want you to take this note to the shelter team when they come in tonight.” She said as she folded the note she wrote and handed it to me. For two months, I sat in the waiting area fascinated as I watched well-rested men and women come down the stairs and elevator laughing as they headed for dinner.

I opened the note, “please assign Lawson a bed upstairs, he needs a break.” We talked a few more minutes, then I thanked her and headed to the library.

It was an improvement

That evening, I fidgeted and kept checking the time on my phone, as I waited to head back to the shelter team. The Shelter Team offices were in an area by where the bunks were. The team sat behind Plexiglas, with a slot to pass pens and documents. There was an armed police officer there for security.

I sat and waited, at exactly 9:00 P.M. the blinds covering the plexiglass went up, and I was looking at an older woman who was all business. I placed the note in the tray, she read the note, then she passed me some documents to read and sign.

She gave me a pass. “Take this upstairs with you, you will see some chairs in front of an office, have a seat and wait, he will be with you directly.” I thank her, then I headed to the elevator for the next leg of my journey.

It was another world

I stepped out of the elevator to a brightly lit floor, the hall was crowded with men walking around or sitting in chairs against the walls. The men were relaxed, talking or sitting with their phones in their hands.

Next to the office was a tv room, I heard laughter and cheers, reactions to a sporting event being watched. After a few minutes, the door to the office opened and one of the biggest men I ever saw in my life beckoned me into the office.

We shook hands and he introduced himself, then he offered me a seat and recited the speech he knew by heart. As he talked, he handed me a pen and the first of many papers to sign.

No worries about me breaking any rules

“There are no illegal drugs allowed on the floor, there is no buying or selling of cigarettes on the floor.” I nodded as I signed the paper in front of me and he handed another one to me.

“There’s a washer and dryer, it cost a quarter a load, you will have to wait in line to use it. Bed check is at nine P.M. you must be sitting on your bed at that time, if you’re not, you will be sent downstairs.

There were other rules, but I was too tired to pay attention, I just wanted to go to sleep. “The WIFI password is….” My ears picked up. He wrote down the password and handed it to me. We finally were done. “Let me show you to your bed.”

Most of the other guys were cool, but there are always one or two assholes

I followed the man to a room with a plaque above the door, “Medical Room.” The plaque read. “Here’s your bed.” He pointed to a bed right next to the door. I immediately sat down and started to take off my shoes.

Against the wall facing the door, there was an extra-large hospital bed, it contained a huge, gobby fat man with long hair and a beard. All the beds were full, everyone was playing with their phones or laptops.

I logged on to the WIFI signal and talked to Olivia, then I lied down and went right to sleep.

I was finally able to get some rest

The days upstairs were pretty much the same, there would be an announcement over the loudspeaker, we would get out of our beds and get cleaned up. We then would head downstairs for a hot breakfast.

Then we would go back to our beds and sleep some more, or do whatever we wanted to do. There weren’t enough outlets for all of us to charge our phones and laptops. It was a hassle keeping my toys charged.

Olivia and I were really getting to know each other

The poor WIFI signal was also a hassle, I spent a lot of time looking for a signal. I found a spot in the hallway next to the door leading outside to the rooftop smoking area. I spent a lot of time there talking to Olivia and posting on Facebook.

The homeless have one thing in common, they are all messed up, it’s just a matter of how messed up. I would be in the hallway, either on the internet, or charging my phone at an unused outlet.

Some messed up guys walking the halls

I would watch as a young African-American man, obviously Gay, as he continuously walked the floor, swishing his hips and talking loudly in a mincing voice. I never figured out if he was talking to himself, or into a Bluetooth earpiece.

There was always a group of Moslem men sitting together in a corner, and in another corner, another Gay black guy, he looked to be in his twenties or late teens. He was so effeminate, I did a double-take the first time I saw him, “How is a female on this floor?” was the first thought I had.

There was a room with a television and a kitchen area with a fridge and microwave. I was upstairs for two or three months. Olivia and I really got to know each other.

The Room Upstairs and a Big Mistake

Lost in Minneapolis Chapter two: She forgave me for being an Idiot

My name’s Lawson Wallace. I live in South Carolina with my wife Olivia. My wife has been after me to write a book about when I was homeless and how we met. I decided to publish the book here on Illumination Book Chapters.

The story is true as best as I can remember it. Some things though were blocked out. I have included background from when I was younger for context.

In this chapter: I get a bed upstairs and Olivia and I get to know each other

The Room upstairs

At the time, I had an iPhone. The carrier had discontinued service because they wanted me to pay my bill for some reason. There was a payphone on the floor; Olivia had texted me her cellphone number; one afternoon, I called her.

It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. I stopped in front of the phone and picked up the receiver, and started dropping quarters into the slot. We talked until I ran out of quarters.

WIFI is a beautiful thing

“Wait a minute.” I was sitting on the bunk and in front of my laptop; when Olivia messaged me. “You have an iPhone, and you have WIFI, right?” I confirmed that I did have both of those.

“We can talk on our phones over WIFI.” I shook my head and smiled ruefully. I gave her my number, and she called me.

Why didn’t I think of that?

Once we started talking, we talked all the time. The only problem I had was finding an outlet to keep my phone charged. After a few weeks of talking on the phone, Olivia started sending me money.

Olivia was concerned about me

I was supposed to be receiving GA and food stamps, but somehow that didn’t happen. Olivia was concerned, that’s why she started sending me money that somehow rarely made it past the shelter mailbox.

“There’s a post office around the block from the shelter,” I told her one day. She asked me for the address and phone number. She wanted to know how much a post office box cost.

I soon had a post box to receive money and whatever else she wanted to send me. I sent her a picture, and she decided I needed a haircut. This led to an embarrassing incident, or as I like to call a bone-head move.

For a smart guy, I do incredibly dumb things

I was staying with these people, it was an uncomfortable situation, so I stayed in the basement as much as possible. I spent a lot of time on my laptop. It was around this time that someone had hacked some celebrity computers.

Thousands of hours of sex videos and nude pictures of these celebrities were online for the world to see. I couldn’t resist the chance to see Kate Upton and other attractive stars naked.

I was proud of my first haircut in months

What I didn’t realize was, the MacBook saved all those pictures to my hard drive. While I was upstairs, Olivia sent me the money to get a haircut. One of my roommates took me to a haircutting place in Nicollet Mall.

I heard about the skyway, but I never thought about exploring it. My roommate led me through it to the mall. The skyway is an interlinked closed pedestrian footbridge that connects nine and a half miles of Downtown Minneapolis.

To say that Olivia was pissed is an understatement

I got my haircut and excitedly headed back to the shelter, I wanted to show Olivia my new haircut. I sat on the bed and powered up the MacBook and used the camera and took a selfie, then I sent a photo.

I realized a second too late, that I sent the nude photo of Kate Upton. “Fuck, Shit, no, no,” I repeated aloud as I frantically pounded on the keys of the MacBook. It was no use. I waited with my blood pressure escalating for the call that came seconds later.

She forgave me, Thank God

“I’m so sorry Olivia, please, I’m so sorry.” I waited for her response, silently pleading that she wouldn’t dump me. She started to talk, she was calm, but her voice could have frozen the Lake of Fire.

“I don’t know why you sent that to me, but I forgive you.” I calmed down a bit, but I wondered what she would say next. “Forget about it.” She said, her voice thawing a little.

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” She said. We talked for a few more minutes, and when we finished the call, I went through the MacBook and deleted everything that was remotely objectionable.

We laugh about it now

We still talk about the picture incident, but she doesn’t find it as funny as I do now. At the time it wasn’t funny at all. There were other incidents where we had words, but the picture incident was the worst.

The Housing people found me a place to live

I spent Christmas and New Year’s upstairs, I didn’t know it at the time, but the next stage of my life as a homeless person was about to begin.

The housing Lady had sent me to three or four places to see if they would accept me, the last place she sent me accepted my application.

The Next Chapter:

I move to another shelter, and my relationship with Olivia grows.

Illumination Book Chapters

The New Shelter

Lost in Minneapolis Chapter Three: Olivia Sends me a Cellphone

On my last day at the shelter, I went downstairs and ate breakfast, then I went upstairs and packed. I sat and waited for the caseworker to come upstairs and take me to transitional housing.

It was an ugly building, but I didn’t care

My new home was an ugly eight-story building in downtown Minneapolis. I got my stuff out of the back of the caseworker’s car, I needed to get a cart to haul all my crap. I entered the building, there was a window just inside the entrance where a black woman sat at a desk.
 She introduced herself and led me to a table, we sat down and she pulled papers from a folder. I spent several minutes signing papers and listening as she laid down the rules.

There are always rules

With that done, I was given a tour of the building, then another resident lead me to the laundry area on my floor, all my clothes had to run through the dryer in a futile effort to kill the bedbugs.

It was the first time that I was alone in months

I spent the rest of the day in my room napping. There was no WIFI or running water and having food and cooking in the rooms was against the rules. I slept until near lunchtime, then I headed downstairs to the dining room.
 “The food is better here.” I thought as I ate my lunch. I finished eating and went back to my room. That first night alone in my room, I couldn’t sleep. The sores from the bedbug bites I sustained at the other shelter were itching and driving me nuts.

Too excited to sleep, or it was probably the long nap

The bedbugs and excitement about being in a new place kept me awake most of the night.
“The food is better.” I thought as I ate lunch. During the week, there was a cold breakfast, a choice of cereal or toast, and bagels. Lunch and dinner were hot meals, but there was a hot breakfast on weekends.

I spent a lot of time in the computer room

I ate breakfast, then I decided to check out the computer room. I had to sign in and give the employee at the desk my driver’s license, then she led me to the computer room and logged me into a computer.
 
Several computers were in use, folks streaming videos, or on Facebook. I checked my email, then I logged on to Facebook and talked to Olivia for an hour or so. I was still beat down from the shelter, but I needed to get out and explore the area and get things done.

I got out and explored Minneapolis

The third day, I felt a lot better, I found out where the transit office was, I bought a bus pass, I then headed back to the post office to check my mail. Olivia sent me a DVD. I watched the movie and went to bed early.
 My room was small, with no running water and an awful bed, but it did have a small desk and the most uncomfortable chair on earth, made from plastic. I didn’t care, I wrote almost every day.

I worked on the novel I will never finish

The next day, I met with a caseworker and a nurse to discuss my medications and my health. I spent the rest of the day on Facebook and in my room writing.
 After about five days, people started to introduce themselves and the seeds of friendships were planted.

The Staff took care of me

My caseworker arranged for the shelter to buy me some much-needed glasses. I started to get out and explore the area. I quickly fell in love with downtown Minneapolis.
The shelter was close to the library, and a Barnes and Noble’s was closer still. My book collection grew. Everything was great, but not having a phone was a pain in the ass.

We had never met in person, but she sent me a phone

“How would you like me to send you a phone?” Olivia asked me one day. I wasn’t surprised, she had been sending me money for months. I told her having a phone would be awesome.
 I walked across town to the post office by the other shelter to get it. I walked back to the shelter and spent the rest of the day syncing music, I loved that phone. I spent the next few days going from WIFI hotspot to WIFI hotspot downloading free music and posting on social media.

My first case manager was useless

I was assigned a case manager, I was supposed to see him forty-eight hours after I moved into the shelter. I think I met him a month later. I discovered quickly how big a piece of shit he was, but he was worse than I knew.
 My case manager did the little things to pad his reports, He first took me to get a replacement for my worn and tattered Social Security card, the next day he took me to the DMV to get my State Identification card.
 The people at the DMV wanted to see my Birth Certificate, but I didn’t have it with me. Kenny took me back a week later after I found the Birth Certificate in my overnight bag.

The Skyways fascinated me

When the Caseworker left me alone, I spent my days either in my room or exploring the Skyways. I would also take a short walk to the library. The library was fun to go to. It was a better experience being there and not having to worry about dozing off.
 We received our General Assistance money on the first. Most of my neighbors spent their money on booze and drugs. The Park next to the shelter would be a party zone for a few days, then it would die down as the money ran out.
 
I would get necessities, snacks, laundry detergent, and clothing. I always had money left over. I also spent a lot of time at the Book store. I always managed to stop by the coffee shop and buy a Mocha or Latte.

Two years after we started talking, we finally met

Time went by, and Olivia and I had been talking for two years. One day Olivia called me, “Hey babe, how would you like for me to come to Minneapolis for a few days?” The smile I had when I heard those words damned near split my skull in half.
 We talked some more, then we both got busy. I couldn’t just leave the shelter for the weekend. I had to get a pass from my case manager, while Olivia booked a hotel room.
 I was so excited; I was ready to explode. The funny thing was, I wasn’t nervous at all. I packed my overnight bag the night before I left. The next morning, I walked the few blocks to the light-rail station heading to the Airport.

The Next Chapter:

We finally meet in person.

I Met the Woman that I Would Marry Two Years After We Started Talking on FaceBook

Lost in Minneapolis Chapter Four: We meet for the first time

My name’s Lawson Wallace. I live in South Carolina with my wife Olivia. My wife has been after me to write a book about when I was homeless and how we met. I decided to publish the book here on Illumination Book Chapters.

The story is true as best as I can remember it. Some things though were blocked out. I have included background from when I was younger for context.

We met for the first time at the airport

When Olivia and I met for the first time, it was at the terminal where she had just gotten off her plane. We embraced and headed to the shuttle to go to our hotel. We ordered a pizza and sat back and enjoyed our evening.

Olivia wanted two things

Olivia wanted two things, she wanted to see the Mall of America, and me. The next day, we went to the mall. We had a great time, we explored the stores and walked all over the mall.
 
On the third day, Olivia wanted to upgrade our phones. We explored the Mall some more and went to a movie. We had a blast for three days, but she had to go home too soon.

I missed her the minute she boarded the plane

We checked out that morning and headed to the Airport, We kissed goodbye and I watched as she boarded the plane. When she was out of sight, I went and sat down stunned.
 
I felt like a part of me boarded that plane, I felt lost. I grabbed the handle of the overnight bag and walked to the light rail and headed back to the shelter. I rested for a few days, sleeping in and missing breakfast.

Coming back to the reality of the shelter was jarring

The case manager would bring me applications for permanent housing. I would fill out the applications and give them back to him. A case manager at the shelter talked me into trying vocational rehabilitation.
 I had been through that when my parents were alive, but against my better judgment, I gave it another try.

I tried Vocational Rehabilitation for the last time

For whatever reason, I could never learn a skill or trade, and until I got my first security guard job, I could never stay employed. “Too slow, too dumb to do the job.” It had never worked, so I had no illusions that it would work then.
 Olivia had been after me to apply for disability; I had resisted. It offended my sense of responsibility, it felt like giving up. I did the vocational rehab; it was a disaster.

I can’t do simple things I was once able to do

I don’t know if it was the Stroke in Florida, the two years of being homeless, or a combination of things, I couldn’t do the simplest tasks. Olivia was concerned about me doing vocational rehabilitation, and she was right.
 “Where we go again.” I thought as I listened to the Evaluator as he explained the tasks I was to perform. It was the first in a series of tasks to see how well I understood directions and how frustrated I would get.

I was befuddled and frustrated

I was counting and sorting, I was filing, I was packing boxes, I was labeling stuff, I was doing all sorts of tasks, and not doing them well. I would come back to the shelter at the end of the day a nervous wreck.
 
Olivia was concerned, she wanted me to quit, but I wouldn’t have it. I knew that it would help me get Disability. While I was being evaluated at Vocational Rehabilitation. My Psychotherapist suggesting that I undergo Neuropsychological Testing. I readily agreed. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of more tests, but I wanted to see if there was an underlying cause of my inability to function. The testing was scheduled for a whole day at the hospital.

I thought I would have to be admitted to the Psych Ward

I lasted until noon. I would take some tests, testing my hand-eye coordination. How well I understood instructions, then I would be interviewed by a doctor. When the Doctor finished, it was back to more tests.
I was so stressed out by noon. I thought I was going to be admitted to the hospital. It was like Vocational Rehabilitation, only worse. The Doctor terminated the session. I went back to my room at the shelter and called Olivia.

Olivia was against the testing, for good reason

Olivia didn’t like what the testing was doing to me. “Why don’t you quit?” she would ask. I had already thought it through, so I had the answer ready.
 
“It will help me get Disability,” I told her. “I’m finally convinced that I need to be on it.” I wasn’t happy about it, it went against everything I was raised to believe in, but it was apparent that I wasn’t able to work.

Getting on Disability is a long process

There was a company that helped people file Disability claims. They had an office at the hospital. I went to see them. I filled out the paperwork and included the Neuro-Psychologist’s report.
 
After that, it was a waiting game. It was spring, going into Summer in Minnesota, so I spent a lot of time outside in the park. I also spent time in my room writing. It was in late August of 2016, just a few months after Olivia came to see me when she called me with an awesome idea.

I missed Olivia, I couldn’t wait to see her again

“Hey babe, how would you like to meet me in Philadelphia for Thanksgiving? We can celebrate your birthday with my sister and brother-in-law.” She asked, I smiled at the thought of Seeing Olivia again so soon.
 
“That’s an awesome idea baby, I’m down,” I said as we talked some more to work out the details. There were things we had to do. I couldn’t just leave the shelter for a week. I had to get permission from my case manager.
 
Getting my case manager to sign off on the trip was no problem. Olivia had to buy me a suitcase and train tickets, in no time at all it was time to catch a train. The train ride was uncomfortable, but I arrived in Philadelphia tired but in one piece.

I met my new family for the first time

I met my future brother-in-law for the first time. He came and picked me up at the station. Olivia’s train didn’t arrive until an hour or two later. My brother and sister-in-law made me feel right at home. I liked them instantly.
 
It was overwhelming, all the cousins and aunts and uncles were there that Thanksgiving, they would have been there anyway, but they all were curious about me. I felt welcome and right at home with the family.

I went back to Minneapolis the day after my Birthday

My birthday is in late November, every few years my birthday falls on Thanksgiving, it didn’t that year, but it was still a good time. I had to go back to Minneapolis the day after my birthday.
 Before I left, I had a real Philly cheesesteak sandwich and the best hoagie I ever ate. I ate well that whole week, and I had plenty to drink. It was a great week. When I went back to Minnesota, I was more determined than ever to move to South Carolina and marry Olivia.

The Next Chapter: Time to move South:

Moving South Sooner Than Expected

Lost in Minneapolis: Chapter Five

My name’s Lawson Wallace. I live in South Carolina with my wife Olivia. My wife has been after me to write a book about when I was homeless and how we met. I decided to publish the book here on Illumination Book Chapters.

The story is true as best as I can remember it. Some things though were blocked out. I have included background from when I was younger for context.

I didn’t meet my case manager until a month later

I spent my days in my room writing and napping, I would often walk across the street to the lobby of an office building to use their WIFI. I talked to Olivia several times a day, I also had to deal with staff and case managers.
 
The first inkling of trouble came when I read the information about my caseworker in my welcome documents. He was supposed to make contact with me twenty-four hours after I checked in.

My case manager was a piece of work

I met him a month later, he did call me on the phone the first day, if he was out of town or something he should have said so. He did the little things, easy stuff to pad his reports, but what he needed to do was find me another place to live.
 
He would bring me applications; I would fill them out and hand them back to him. I thought everything was cool. He also took me to Low-Income apartments to fill out paperwork.

I was on a waiting list all over town, or so I thought

There were waiting lists, but I was in the first weeks and months of my two-year stint, so I thought everything was cool. The caseworker worked Saturday through Wednesday. He expected to meet me in his office on Saturdays, If I forgot, he would buzz my room or go looking for me.

He did what he wanted to do, and that meant doing as little as possible

The rules didn’t apply to him, I would wait outside his office door on Saturdays, he wouldn’t be there, I would wait, then I would leave and come back. He stood me up several times.
 I would get hunted down and written up for being a no-show, but he came and went when it suited him. We had a rocky relationship, to say the least, I was glad when he went on to greener pastures to curse another company with his laziness and lack of ethics.

My new case manager did good work, but he didn’t stay long

My new case manager was cool; he saw that my two years were coming to an end, he worked hard to find me a place, but he found out that all the places I applied to never heard of me.
 
The old caseworker threw away the applications after I filled them out. Olivia and I had planned for me to move south and marry her, but we didn’t want it to be too soon, she needed to find me a room to stay in, and she needed to find us a car.

It’s not like I hadn’t been evicted before

I received a notice of my pending eviction. I went to the man that ran the building. He said I could stay longer, but someone didn’t get the memo; a second notice confirmed the first one.
 
Olivia got busy finding me a place to stay. The situation wasn’t conducive for me to stay with her and her family at their home.

I spent my GA money shipping stuff to South Carolina

While Olivia was getting me hooked up with a car and lodging, I would spend a chunk of my GA money shipping boxes of stuff to her. She at first kept the boxes at the house, then she moved the boxes to where I was to be staying. I also shipped the boxes remaining to that address.
 In no time at all; it was time for me to take the light rail to the airport.
 I left on a Saturday morning. I had packed the day before, so all I had to do was eat breakfast and zip up my suitcase, and put on my backpack. I took a short walk to the light-rail station; I found my flight, then took off to a whole new life.

Life after Minneapolis

Lawson lives in South Carolina with his wife Olivia. It has been four years since he left Minneapolis. His life is a lot better now.