Two and a Half Years Homeless-Personal Essays
Collection of Personal Essays describing my time on the streets.
I’m Lawson, I’m 61 years old, and I currently live in the warm state of South Carolina with the love of my life Olivia, who I met on Facebook. I write often about my experiences of homelessness because the stories interest readers. Writing about it also helps me to make peace with what happened. Why this is so is a mystery to me. I just know it’s true.
I have compiled the articles I have written detailing what lead to my homelessness, and I how got through the experience.
Bad Decisions
I Never Thought I Would End up Homeless
But there I was
After my dad died, I sold his house; The house where my dad and my uncle, and I had lived for eleven years. My uncle and I moved to a trailer park. My uncle had lived in apartments after his divorce and he didn’t want to live in another one.
It was all good, but only for a moment
We had a good system. Uncle Richard bought the weekly groceries and paid half the lot rent. I paid half the lot rent and the electric and cable bill.
Everything worked out until my uncle got sick. He wouldn’t tell me where the cancer was, but I did a Google search later. He had Pancreatic Cancer.
I thought it was a bug
It wasn’t long after uncle Richard’s health problems started. We were watching TV. It was the end of my work week as a security guard. I was in my uniform and putting on my shoes.
We were laughing and talking. I was in a good mood and feeling pretty good when it happened.
I did a stupid thing
Have you ever been drunk? I mean so drunk that the world was spinning so you could barely stand up? Imagine that feeling hitting you in a matter of minutes.
I did a stupid thing. I called off at the last minute and went to bed. I couldn’t sleep. Every time I got up to go to the toilet, I stumbled and fell.
We went to a Walk-In Clinic
The next morning, uncle Richard and I took our time and went to a walk-in clinic. The nurse there took my blood pressure and called 911.
I had a stroke. After three days in the hospital, I was released. I had to use a walker for several days until I got my legs back, and it was several weeks before I felt well enough to drive a car.
My uncle was dying
While I’m getting better, my uncle was getting worse. A month after my stroke. Uncle Richard had some test run. His body was producing too much Bilirubin.
He had to have a bag implanted to collect fluids. While he was in the hospital, I called my aunt in Denver. She got a flight and flew to Florida.
I still have nightmares
The Surgeon didn’t implant the bag correctly. We had to take him back to the Hospital so it could get fixed. We went to take him home the next day.
Uncle Richard was happy to be going home. He was laughing and talking. I was talking to him, looking him in the eyes, when he rolled his eyes and died in front of me.
I hadn’t cried in years, but I did that day
My aunt and I watched as the Doctors brought in the crash cart and worked hard to save him. A doctor stood next to me giving a blow-by-blow of what was going on.
Minutes later, my uncle, my best friend, was gone.
I hung in for almost a year
I lost my job. After my eviction, I was invited to stay with some people in Minneapolis. Things didn’t work out, and I ended up homeless.
There’s a lot more to it, but I don’t want to get sued or open old wounds. A combination of circumstances and bad decisions led to me being homeless, so the only one to blame is me.
Final Thought:
Don’t be afraid to get help if you need it and be aware enough to know when you are in trouble. I made some serious mistakes after my uncle passed away. I’m past the stage of beating myself up. I wish I would have made better decisions.
It might have worked out differently if I would have reached out for help, so don’t be afraid to get help. Check with social services and churches for any help they can give.
Life changes
The Year After I had the Stroke
I had the best time
It was a good time to have a stroke. My uncle Richard was getting sicker, and he needed help. I recovered enough to care for him. I owed him that much and more.
I had real freedom for the first time
I was in my fifties, and I had never lived on my own. After uncle Richard died, I had no one to go to for advice or help. For the first time in my life, I had to make decisions without input from the family. Family with more life experiences and common sense.
When I recovered enough to go back to work, I didn’t have a job to go back to. A friend and former co-worker found me a job with another guard company.
Too little, too late
By this time, I was behind on all my bills, including the rent. The Landlord wouldn’t work with me. The late fees added up, and soon I was too far behind.
That morning I was lying on the couch in the trailer watching tv. I had to work that night, so I was about to go to bed when the process server knocked on the door.
I had twenty-four hours to be out of the trailer.
Maybe if I hadn’t screwed around and planned ahead
I went through some changes when my uncle Richard died, The big change for me was I decided to have a social life. I had no idea how to get out and find a date, so I started doing the personal ads.
The blonde was a lot of fun
I was having a great time. I called “ The blonde,” and told her what happened, she said I could stay at her place on the sofa.
I packed what I could onto the back of my pickup and left everything else in the trailer.
I had a place to stay for a month until the blond decided to go back to her husband in New York. I went to South Carolina to my brother’s place, but that didn’t work out, so I drove to Minneapolis, Minnesota.
My relatives had invited me to stay in their basement.
I found a job, but the bank kept taking my money, I couldn’t pay the agreed-upon rent. The night before Halloween 2014, I was leaving for work when I was told to get out and not come back.
I had no money, I had a dollar bill in my wallet and nothing in my checking account. I went to work and came home the next morning and packed an overnight bag and went to see if I could get help.
Driving around an unfamiliar city with no sleep and no money
After spending the day and into the evening at Social Services, only to get a map to area shelters. I set out to find a shelter in an unfamiliar city, with almost no gas in my truck and one dollar in my wallet.
I finally found the shelter around midnight, I walked in as a guy was walking out, leaving me the last bed. I had been awake for over twenty-four hours.
Day-old cold pizza never tasted so good
I hadn’t eaten in over twenty-four hours, so I salivated over the cold pizza on the table by the security guard. He felt sorry for me and gave me the pizza, It was the best-tasting pizza ever.
I took the pizza back to the sleeping area. I shared it with a kid in his teens or early twenties in the bunk next to mine, then I lay down and got about four hours of sleep.
That is how I ended up homeless in Minneapolis.
Final thought:
Take nothing for granted, it could all be gone in a minute.
Bad Decisions Can Come Back and Bite You
But you need to get over it
When my dad died, I followed the instructions he had given me. My dad and my uncle, and I lived in a three-bedroom house with two mortgages.
My dad had retired with three pensions. My uncle was on Social Security, and I was working as a security guard. Dad knew that I couldn’t afford the house. His instructions were for me to sell it and find a less expensive place to live.
I followed dad’s Instructions
I had to go through the post-death bullshit with my family. I had my dad’s will probated. He left everything to me. I sold the house and my Uncle Richard and I moved into the trailer park.
I had money put away in a CD. My uncle and I split the bills, and I relied on his counsel when it came to our finances. Everything was humming along, then I had a stroke.
One thing after another
Uncle Richard’s health declined. He passed away while I was still recovering from the stroke.
I was behind on my bills. I had lost my job due to the stroke, and it took time to find another one and get the hours I needed. I had taken out a secured loan a few years earlier to pay off credit card debt.
Banks are not your friends
The bank was taking my money to make the loan payments. I broke the CD to pay off the loan. Later, when I got behind on my rent, I had no backup funds to compensate for the loss.
My younger brother sent me the money to pay the lot rent, but the bank took the money, I still owed late fees and other stuff. Landlords never will work with you.
Everything I tried to do to stay in my home failed. I was lying on my sofa watching tv when the process server arrived.
I forgave myself, but it’s been hard
I should not have broken the CD when I did, and I should have died before taking money from my brother. Those bad decisions have weighed on me for years, and I suppose they always will.
Final Thoughts:
We are fallible human beings, and we all make mistakes, but we need to get past them and move on.
Compassion toward the homeless
What I Discovered about Homeless People
We need to take better care of them
I had no compassion at all
I Watched as the homeless man walked off the property with The trespass ticket in his pocket. I smiled and had a spring in my step as I went to write the report.
I was a security guard assigned to a bus terminal in Clearwater Florida. One of my duties was to keep homeless people from loitering on the property.
I couldn’t understand at the time why the homeless didn’t try to get out of that life. I have a clearer understanding now. I learned that understanding the hard way.
I had to learn the hard way
I was homeless for only two and a half years, but I still have open wounds four years after I got out of that life. It was a terrible experience, but I learned some valuable lessons.
Most of us didn’t choose that life
The first lesson I learned, homeless people are homeless for a reason. Every homeless person I saw and got to know, and I include myself. They had underlying issues. Issues that either lead to them being on the streets or kept them there once they became homeless.
Most of them had been homeless for years
I met a few people that got out of that life after a brief stay, but most of the people I observed had been homeless for years. A lot of them wouldn’t have it any other way.
I could never figure out why that was. I was at a Transitional Housing apartment. The residents had a room for two years. We had to leave after two years if we had a place to stay or not.
They wouldn’t or couldn’t take advantage of the opportunity
I saw quite a few people end up back on the streets after their two years were up. It was either they didn’t care enough to try to find housing or their case-worker was ineffective.
A few liked being on the streets. They were content to sleep in shelters or on park benches. I met one man who had been sleeping outside in the Minnesota weather for years.
I fit right in
Another homeless man asked me,” What led you to be here?” My stock answer was,” poor decisions and circumstances.” I would have liked to say that I didn’t fit in with the people I shared the shelter with, but I was where I belonged. I was one of them.
Being honest and being at peace with myself
I have mental health issues, but I know now know to get help. I had to accept that I had problems. I also am more at peace with my Learning Disabilities.
I look at the folks with their signs in a different way now
When I see a homeless person on the corner or a median with a sign, I no longer ignore them or think badly of them. “ That could be me,” I say to myself as I wish I had some change or a few bills to give them.
I wish that Governments and Churches would do more for homeless people. I know that there is only so much they can do, but they should do more.
Final thought:
The poor and mentally ill will always be with us, and some people do not want help. We need to find ways to help the people we can. The people that want help and are willing to accept our help. We should help them.
Homelessness
A Typical Day When I Was Homeless
I try to forget, but I can’t
“ Rise and shine. We need those blankets.” The security goons screamed as the lights came on, jarring me awake. I crawl bleary-eyed off the bunk and grab the handle of my overnight bag, and head to the toilet area.
I quickly shave and brush my teeth, then I take my bag to the lobby and, if I’m lucky, get a cup of coffee from one of the pots. I find a spot against the wall to protect my back and sip my coffee.
It was chaos
The lobby fills with yelling and cursing men; Several minutes pass. The volunteer by the tables yells. “Let’s bow our heads and thank the Lord for this meal.”
After the prayer, the jostling and fighting started. I have enough sense to keep my mouth shut as assholes cut in front of me. I finally make it to the tables. “Oatmeal or grits?” The volunteer asks.
Oatmeal for me
I take my bowl of oatmeal to an empty spot against the wall. I eat and sip my coffee. At exactly 6:00 A.M., the goons scream. “Clear the lobby the lobby is closed.”
Minneapolis is cold in the mornings
I head outside into the cold and dark Minneapolis morning. I follow the other guys to the back of the Greyhound terminal next door.
There’s a garage with uniformed security guards, backed up by a police officer. They allow us to wait there for an hour, then they scream for us to clear out.
I would sit there freezing
My truck hadn’t been impounded, yet I get in and try not to freeze. I head to the library at around 7:00 A.M. I wait in the lobby until the library opens, then I sign up to use a computer.
Homeless folks love libraries
I spend the day on Facebook talking to Olivia and other people, but mostly Olivia. I tire of being on the computer, so I go sit by a window. I look outside, wishing I was somewhere else.
Around 3:30 P.M. I head back to the shelter. The security guys on the night shift like me, so they let me sit in the waiting area early. I doze as the place fills up.
I hardly tasted the food because I ate so fast
At 6:00 P.M. We form a line that crawls into the cafeteria. The line is slow because it takes people several minutes to choose a dessert. I can’t figure out why. Nothing has any taste anyway.
By the time I set down with my tray, it is almost time for the dining area to close. I almost finished eating when the goons scream.
“Clear the dining room, take your trays to the window, and clear the dining room.” I do what I’m told, I head back to the lobby. Sometimes I can get a seat, but a lot of times I have to sit on a hard floor in an overflow room.
Noisy as Hell
Three hours later, I’m about to scream. The noise of shouting men and the smell of weed, booze, and unwashed bodies is making me sick.
The noise dies down for a few minutes, then an invisible signal goes through the room. We all stand and get in line. It’s time for bed.
The line is slow because we have to be frisked, and our bags searched
It takes a few hours, but I finally am in front of the tables. “Let me see your ID.” The tattooed guy in his twenties demands. I give him my license. He enters my name on a list, then he sends me to the end of the table, where another guy assigns me a bottom bunk.
I head to the toilet area and then to my bunk. I take off my shoes and glasses. I lie down and pull the blanket over my head.
Like a damned summer camp
It seems like I’m the only one wanting to sleep. Everyone is loud and playing grab-ass. It goes on for a few hours. The goons turn off the lights.
“It’s quiet time, quiet down.” The Goons scream. The noise dies to a whimper. The bunks are so close together. I have to be careful how I roll over in bed, or I will end up in the bed next to mine. That wouldn’t be good.
I managed to get a few hours of sleep
I finally get to sleep. It seems like only a few minutes have passed. The lights come on, “Rise and shine, I need those blankets.” I get up and start the process all over again.
I can’t forget it, no matter how hard I try
That was my life for the first few months in Minneapolis. I try to forget, but I can’t. I would not wish homelessness on anyone. I pray it doesn’t happen to you.
Homeless Shelters
I Was At My Lowest And Then Things Got Better
I got a bed upstairs
The days of taking the long walks to the library took their toll. When I was thrown out, I only had a fur-lined denim jacket. It was after Thanksgiving. A man from the Baptist church across the street walked through the waiting area.
God was looking out for me
He was handing out flyers. The flyers advertised a clothing give-away at the church across the street. I went across the street and found an old blue coat that had seen better days.
A few days later, I was going to my truck, when I saw a brand new pair of gloves on the ground by the door of the truck, where I couldn’t miss them.
A few days later, a woman came through the waiting area with hand-knitted hats and scarves. I was outfitted for the weather, but it was too late.
Two upper Respiratory Infections in the same month
I kept getting sick. I would go see the caseworker and she would drive me to the hospital. Two upper respiratory infections in a month. The lack of sleep and the stress had worn me down completely. I was nearing the end of my rope.
I got a bed upstairs
I went to see the caseworker after I got back from the hospital. She wrote a note for the shelter team and told me to see them that evening. Not all the homeless at the shelter were on the streets all day. I would watch as they came downstairs. They were cleaner and happier, laughing as they headed to the cafeteria. “How did they get upstairs?” I would ask myself as I watched them head to the cafeteria. I found out how that night.
My first visit to the Shelter Team
The Shelter Team came to work at around 8:00 P.M. Their office was in a room in the back of the shelter. The Shelter Team was protected by a Plexiglass barrier and an armed police officer.
I got there early. The cop gruffly told me to have a seat. I waited a few minutes before they raised the curtain to open for business. The Shelter Team member read the note, then she had me sign some papers, she wrote me a voucher and told me to go upstairs.
I took the elevator one floor up and got off into a different world. I exited the elevator into a brightly lit area. It was crowded with men sitting on chairs, hanging out, and walking the hallways. I sat in front of the closed office door and waited to be called.
A few minutes later, a huge man opened the door and told me to come on in. He read me a list of rules, then he had me sign some more papers, then he lead me to my room. Where I would spend the next three months.
Final Thought:
When you are going through a storm, ride it out, because storms blow over.
Upstairs at the Homeless Shelter
I finally could get some rest
After three months of trying to stay awake at the library and trying to sleep downstairs at the shelter. Finally, getting off the streets and having a bed upstairs was a blessing.
There always has to be at least one jerk
I still had to share a space with nine other guys, guys with worse issues than the ones I had. We were in the “Medical Room.” We all had physical and mental health issues, and we slept a lot, so we liked the lights to be out during the day.
Three guys didn’t want the lights out. The problem was they were in and out all day. One of them would come storming in and turn on the lights.
“Turn the lights off,” we would yell; there would be a shouting match, then the guy would walk out, leaving the lights on. I got along with everybody. I minded my business and talked to Olivia as often as I could.
I slept a lot
I would sleep most of the day, going downstairs for meals. I would also meet with the housing people. The room upstairs was not meant to be a permanent home.
I was still homeless
I would hear my name over the PA system, then I would go to the housing office and fill out paperwork. I would also go with the housing lady to shelters that were transitional housing.
I would fill out applications and be interviewed by a staff member at the place I was trying to get into. I would go back to the shelter and wait. While I waited, I slept as much as I could and talked to Olivia often.
I met some good guys
It was a different vibe upstairs. I felt safer, but I still kept my guard up. The one person who kept me grounded was Olivia. I had never been in love before, and I liked the feeling.
I was upstairs for two months when I got approval to move to transitional housing. My last day at the shelter. I ate breakfast downstairs, then I packed my stuff and waited for the shelter caseworker.
Ten minutes later, I was at my new home.
We parked next to an old and ugly eight-floor building across from the TCF tower. I got my stuff out of the caseworker’s car. I needed to get a cart, but I got it all inside.
I signed some paperwork and read the rules, then I was led upstairs to a laundry room. I had to run all my clothes through the laundry to kill the bedbugs.
I was covered in bedbug bites
The day went by in a blur, and before I knew it, I was in my room alone. I had a splitting headache. I was itching all over from bedbug bites, and I was too keyed up to sleep, but I was by myself for the first time in months. It was awesome.
Minneapolis is a cool city
I took a couple of days to get some sleep and get acclimated, then I got out and did some exploring. I asked a staff member where I could get a bus pass. There was a transit office up the street, I bought a reloadable pass. I took a bus to the post office and checked my mail, then I went back to the shelter to the computer room and talked to Olivia.
That night I watched a DVD that Olivia sent me. I watched it on my laptop, and then I went to bed early. There was a good mix of residents, so it didn’t take long for me to make some friends.
The next step in my healing journey had begun.
Final Thought:
Never take a good night’s sleep and privacy for granted.
I Was Turning Into a Human After Feeling Invisible
Slowly but surely, I was coming back to myself
The employee lead to a room and opened the door. There were nine or ten other guys in the room. I sat down on my assigned bed and took off my shoes.
That first night I was in a fog. I was so tired, but I was happy to have a place to be inside. Minneapolis is too damned cold. I had a blanket and sheets and a pillow on the bed, which was an upgrade. I had to share the room, but the guys I was sharing the room with were cool. Well, most of them were.
I slept like a log
I was still homeless, but being upstairs was an upgrade. The female staff would walk into the room, so we slept in our clothes as I did downstairs.
We had rules to follow
We had to keep our areas clean. If our area was cluttered we got cited, and if we received too many citations, we were back on the streets.
The best thing we had was Wi-Fi. I could talk to Olivia as much as I wanted to. It didn’t take long. I was rested enough to get out to explore a little.
I had been walking every day to the library, freezing my butt off in the cold. I saw the walkways connecting the office buildings. I didn’t know downtown was linked by a skyway.
The Skyway fascinated me
Olivia had sent me money for a haircut, and one of the guys went with me to the barbershop, and we took the skyway.
I was fascinated by the skyway. It was crowded with office workers and homeless people. My roommate and I walked to Nicollette Mall. We passed the Barnes & Noble. I noted the location. I would spend a lot of time there.
After that first walk in the Skyway, I would explore it often for the next two-and-a-half years. When I wasn’t reading or sleeping, I was talking to Olivia. We were getting closer; we fell in love, but we had never met in person.
I talked to her often
I would use the payphone to talk to her, but then we realized we could use Wi-Fi. From that point on, we talked to each other constantly.
Olivia would send me money, but I rarely received it. She sent me money to rent a P.O. Box at the post office around the corner. The P.O. Box fixed the problem.
Healing takes time
It was taking some time, but I was returning to my old self; little by little my confidence and self-worth were returning.
Final thought:
It takes a little time, and it might be slower than you would like, but you can get through it, so don’t give up.
A Love Story
I Didn’t Give Up Because She Cared
We loved each other before we even met in person
I would take the long, cold walk to the library. After a few weeks, I felt like I was invisible. When I first started walking to the library. I would make contact and smile at the attractive women passing by. They would smile back.
After a few weeks, no one saw me at all
They quit seeing me; no one noticed me at all. I felt invisible. The experience started to weigh me down. One morning as I was walking across the tracks, the warning bells rang as the arms came down.
I started to quit caring
I didn’t pick up the pace as the driver of the train leaned on his horn. I got across seconds before the train hit me. It didn’t even raise my pulse.
I can sink so low inside my head, I can be physically present, but mentally I would be miles and years away. I was sitting in the waiting area at the shelter one night.
I didn’t care either way
I was staring into space. The guy in the chair across from me thought I was staring at him. “ Goddamned it, what the fuck are you staring at?” He yelled. He jumped up and crossed the aisle and stood over me.
His friend was with him. He pulled a small knife and threatened to cut me up. I stared, giving no reaction at all. I was curious if he would stab me, but I wasn’t afraid.
When the two creeps decided I wasn’t going to play, they sat back down and ignored me. There were other incidents I learned not to look at anyone at all.
It would have been so easy
I could have given up. It would have been easy to sleep on a park bench on a below-freezing night. Or I could step out into traffic or let the light rail hit me.
I didn’t give up. There was a woman in South Carolina, a woman I had never met in person. A woman who cared about me when I thought no one else did.
The library had computers and Wi-Fi, and Olivia and I would talk for hours. Her concern sustained me. I thought of her all the time.
She saved my life, she really did
It got to the point where I didn’t want to drink or get high. I had made the conscious decision to abstain when I first became homeless. Olivia would have known and been disappointed in me. We had not met at that point, but I still didn’t want to let her down.
We would chat on Facebook. Olivia would lift me up and encourage me. “Hang in there Lawson.” She would say all the time. “Better days are coming.” For some reason, deep in my heart, I believed her. It seemed like the days flew by. I hung in there because Olivia cared for me and was praying for me. I felt her prayers.
We met two years later
Olivia and I didn’t meet until two years after we started talking. It was like we were old friends when she flew to Minneapolis to see me.
I had online dated in the past, with less than satisfactory results. I never planned on meeting anyone online or on Facebook. Our relationship just happened out of nowhere. Neither one of us planned it.
Falling in Love was the last thing on my mind
The last thing I was thinking about was falling in love, but there I was. I know in my heart that if we had never started talking. I would still be homeless in Minneapolis, and I probably would have had a drinking and drug problem.
Final Thought
No matter what you might go through, someone cares. Whatever you might go through might seem never-ending, but it’s not.
Never give up.
Inspiration
I Started Writing in a Homeless Shelter
The Invaluable Lessons I Learned
I was homeless in Minneapolis. I was staying in what they called “ Transitional Housing.” I had a room by myself, with no running water or Internet access, I had to go downstairs to the computer room for that.
The Rich Preacher had a point
The woman I would marry had sent me an Ebook written by a TV Evangelist. Who like most Televangelists is stinking rich.
One of the points of the book is, “ Do what you can where you are.” The point resonated with me. When I was on the street, I would spend all day in the library working on a novel that I would never finish.
I didn’t know anything about the craft of writing yet, but I at least improved my typing skills. I didn’t learn the basics of writing until much later.
Writing in a homeless shelter isn’t easy
I continued writing when the shelter allowed me to have a bed upstairs, the bed I had to pay for with my Welfare check. I knew I couldn’t work, there was too much going on with my mental health, but I could write.
Writing while staying at a homeless shelter is damned near impossible. I was in a room with ten other guys, and the hallways were crowded with men being as loud as possible.
Having privacy again was amazing
I wrote anyway, I was sent to another shelter. There was no running water in my room, and though cooking and having a fridge were not allowed, I was in heaven.
There was a cheap desk and an uncomfortable plastic chair. I could write in peace. I still didn’t know how to write a story, but I was learning self-discipline.
I met her on Facebook
I wrote as much as I could until it was time to leave Minneapolis. I went to South Carolina; to be with the woman I met two years earlier on Facebook.
My fiance paid for an online creative writing course for me, which changed my life. I impressed the Instructors with my talent, Although they had concerns about my poor grammar and punctuation.
I have been writing since I took the class
I have been writing short stories since I took that class. I would submit my stories. I received the usual newbie rejection letters.
I finally saw success as a writer when I discovered Medium. Success for me is having my stories published and read. I don’t worry too much about making money.
Medium provided an opportunity for me to do that.
My Advice for you
My advice is to do what you can, no matter where you are in life. Baby steps move you forward, and that’s better than doing nothing at all. If you ever have the misfortune of being homeless, latch onto a dream, work toward that dream with everything you have
Leave the booze and dope alone, that will only drag you further down.
“ Do what you can where you are.”
Spiritual growth
My Life is Better Because I Was Homeless
I had to learn the hard way
I didn’t see it at the time, but looking back, I see how that dark time of my life prepared me for the good life I have today.
After a few months of homelessness, I was in the system. I was getting Food stamps and General Assistance money. A few months later, I was sent to live in Transitional housing.
It was awesome
I had a room of my own with the most uncomfortable bed ever. The room had no running water and food and a fridge was not allowed.
I had to go down the hall to use the toilet and shower. The restroom and shower area was always nasty. In comparison to the other shelter, I was in freaking paradise.
There was a computer room downstairs. I was closer to office buildings downtown with free WIFI.
I could talk to Olivia more often
We had started talking a few days before I was thrown out into the streets. I had messaged her on Facebook the morning I left where I was staying.
We had stayed in contact ever since that morning. I don’t know if we would have continued to talk if I wasn’t thrown out of that house.
She had told me she didn’t know why she cared, but she did. I believe we never would have grown as close as we did if she hadn’t cared enough to keep in touch.
I took a risk
I had lived in Florida for many years, I had the itch to leave but I didn’t have the nerve. I went to Minneapolis to start a new life but that didn’t work.
The upside to being homeless, I had State Medical Insurance. My Guard job in Florida didn’t offer insurance.
Being homeless saved my life
That saved my life. I had a stroke in Florida, and I couldn’t afford medication, the State of Minnesota took care of that. I was also able to get counseling. I had someone to talk to. Between the Therapist and Olivia, I had two people to keep me straight.
In Florida, I was living in a trailer park, in a trailer, I couldn’t afford. I was free of that. I was given a chance to start a new life. I took that chance and it worked out for me in the long run.
Stuff doesn’t matter
I don’t have the material things I want, but I learned that stuff doesn’t matter. What matters is having a roof over my head and someone who loves me.
Maybe I had to grow through that dark time. To appreciate that I needed people in my life, people to care about, and people to care for me.
My life is better now. I see what’s important. My mental and physical health and loving and being loved that is the important thing.
My wife always says to me, “ You had to go through a storm to learn some things.” I know she is right, and I hope that I learned my lesson because I never want to go through that again.
Final Thought:
Don’t let hubris cause you to take your eyes off of the important things. Stuff doesn’t matter. What matters is being spiritually whole. Don’t put yourself in the position of losing it all to realize you didn’t have what you needed.
Homelessness
Signing on the Corner
I’m glad I didn’t need to do that
Signing on a Street Corner
When I was homeless in Minneapolis I walked everywhere. Unless it was too far to walk, then I would take a bus or the light rail. I would walk to Nicollette Mall. The street would be covered with homeless people with their signs.
It was a profitable business
The cardboard signs all asked for money. A lot of homeless people made a good living signing on corners and medians. I never signed. It wasn’t because of my fear of losing any self-respect I had left, I didn’t need to do it.
I was tempted many times
I would think about it on occasion when it approached the end of the month and I was out of books to read. I wasn’t much of a drinker, that’s where most of the signer’s money went to, but I’m a voracious reader.
Every month, I would walk to Barnes & Noble and buy a book or two and a cup of coffee. I would entertain the thought of taking up signing, but the one thing that scared me was Olivia calling and finding out what I was doing.
I care about her opinion
Even before we met in person, I was concerned about how she thought of me. I never took up signing, but one thing I learned about myself, I would do whatever was necessary to survive.
It was a hard thing to hear
A Vocational Rehabilitation Assessment had confirmed that I wasn’t able to work. I was still uncomfortable taking General Assistance and food stamps.
Being homeless and on Welfare went against everything my parents taught me, but I didn’t know what to do about it. I accepted my situation, but I wasn’t happy about it.
Her love saved me
When I was in Minneapolis I walked a line that could have gone in either direction. I could have taken the path of booze and drugs. I would still be there on Welfare and Food Stamps today if I had chosen that path.
I chose to take a risk and move to another State. To be with a woman that I met on Facebook, and was the best decision I ever made.
I’m so grateful for my wife Olivia, without her love, concern, and prayers I would be in an unhappy place. Sometimes you have to take a chance, a leap of faith, I’m glad I did.
Sunday Morning at the Homeless Shelter
You can learn things if you don’t judge
I was lying on my bunk, listening as the other occupants of the shelter stirred in their bunks. The lights came on, and the security guys screamed. “ Rise and shine; we need those blankets.”
I was going to get a hot Breakfast
After I shaved, I went to the lobby to get a bowl of oatmeal and a cup of coffee. It was Sunday; I was going to get a hot breakfast, but I had to listen to a sermon first.
At first, I was bored
I had grown up in a Christian family. My grandfather was a Southern Baptist Minister. I was used to hearing fiery sermons, but I never heard one of those when I was homeless. The minister stood on the small stage and spoke in the simplest way possible. I was bored out of my mind, and I was critical of the minister’s speaking style.
I had to lighten up
“I’m not stupid.” I thought as I sat there irritated. I looked around, and I realized the minister had to speak in simple language. “There are all kinds of people here listening.” I thought as I lightened up and gave the minister a break.
All kinds of people are homeless
I knew that some homeless were not highly educated or well-read, but you would be surprised how many had Degrees and or suits and ties in their former lives.
The minister had to talk in simple language; he had to if he wanted to be understood by as many as possible. Once I understood that and got off my high horse, I listened to his sermon.
The sermons were good, yet simple
The sermon wasn’t much different from the sermons I grew up listening to. Once I had that epiphany, I could listen to the weekly sermons and get something from them.
My respect for the ministers grew as I listened to them. It had to be hard, standing up there preaching to a roomful of men who were there just because they wanted a hot breakfast.
They preached from the heart
They preached from the heart, and they preached the sensible doctrine that would help anyone who listened. I never again had a problem or thought ill of the ministers.
Empathy is a beautiful thing
The point is, don’t judge too harshly. Listen to what the person is saying and put yourself in their shoes. The ministers were doing the best they could do in front of a difficult audience.
Listen with an open mind and heart
Maybe if we all listened with more empathy and understanding, we could learn something and expand our way of looking at things. I have learned that an open heart and mind and the willingness to listen can open my horizons and make me a better person, and it will do the same thing for you.
An Afternoon on a Park Bench
I never saw him again
It was a beautiful summer day in Minneapolis. I was sitting on a bench. In the park, next to the transitional housing facility; where I had been living for almost two years.
A nice afternoon for a beer
Another resident sat on the bench in front of me and dug into his backpack for a can of beer. He popped the top and took a gulp of the beer, then with a sigh he said, “Damn, that was good.”
Some people give up
“How ya doing?” he asked me as he sipped the beer. I told him I was doing well, then he said something that would have surprised the old Lawson.
But it didn’t surprise the Lawson sitting on the bench.
“I’m not supposed to drink any alcohol, the doctor said my liver is too messed up, I’ll die if I drink.” He sat the empty can on the bench, then he sat still before grabbing his gut and doubling over in pain.
I thought he would die right there
“Dude, you need to go to the desk and get help,” I said. The guy groaned in pain as he stood up and walked hunched over to the entrance to the shelter.
A few minutes later, the paramedics arrived with sirens screaming. They took the guy out on a stretcher. I never saw him again.
Could that have been me?
I think of that incident occasionally. If I would have stayed homeless, would I have sunk that low? Where I had no regard for my life at all?
I’m thankful that I’m out of that life, and I pray for the friends I made who are still there. I wouldn’t wish that life on anyone. So pray for the homeless and pray that it never happens to you.
Compassion toward the homeless
What I Discovered about Homeless People
We need to take better care of them
I had no compassion at all
I Watched as the homeless man walked off the property with The trespass ticket in his pocket. I smiled and had a spring in my step as I went to write the report.
I was a security guard assigned to a bus terminal in Clearwater Florida. One of my duties was to keep homeless people from loitering on the property.
I couldn’t understand at the time why the homeless didn’t try to get out of that life. I have a clearer understanding now. I learned that understanding the hard way.
I had to learn the hard way
I was homeless for only two and a half years, but I still have open wounds four years after I got out of that life. It was a terrible experience, but I learned some valuable lessons.
Most of us didn’t choose that life
The first lesson I learned, homeless people are homeless for a reason. Every homeless person I saw and got to know, and I include myself. They had underlying issues. Issues that either lead to them being on the streets or kept them there once they became homeless.
Most of them had been homeless for years
I met a few people that got out of that life after a brief stay, but most of the people I observed had been homeless for years. A lot of them wouldn’t have it any other way.
I could never figure out why that was. I was at a Transitional Housing apartment. The residents had a room for two years. We had to leave after two years if we had a place to stay or not.
They wouldn’t or couldn’t take advantage of the opportunity
I saw quite a few people end up back on the streets after their two years were up. It was either they didn’t care enough to try to find housing or their case-worker was ineffective.
A few liked being on the streets. They were content to sleep in shelters or on park benches. I met one man who had been sleeping outside in the Minnesota weather for years.
I fit right in
Another homeless man asked me,” What led you to be here?” My stock answer was,” poor decisions and circumstances.” I would have liked to say that I didn’t fit in with the people I shared the shelter with, but I was where I belonged. I was one of them.
Being honest and being at peace with myself
I have mental health issues, but I know now know to get help. I had to accept that I had problems. I also am more at peace with my Learning Disabilities.
I look at the folks with their signs in a different way now
When I see a homeless person on the corner or a median with a sign, I no longer ignore them or think badly of them. “ That could be me,” I say to myself as I wish I had some change or a few bills to give them.
I wish that Governments and Churches would do more for homeless people. I know that there is only so much they can do, but they should do more.
Final thought:
The poor and mentally ill will always be with us, and some people do not want help. We need to find ways to help the people we can. The people that want help and are willing to accept our help. We should help them.
Homelessness
At was at my lowest point, but then things Got Better
I got a bed upstairs
The days of taking the long walks to the library took their toll. When I was thrown out, I only had a fur-lined denim jacket. It was after Thanksgiving. A man from the Baptist church across the street walked through the waiting area.
God was looking out for me
He was handing out flyers. The flyers advertised a clothing give-away at the church across the street. I went across the street and found an old blue coat that had seen better days.
A few days later, I was going to my truck, when I saw a brand new pair of gloves on the ground by the door of the truck, where I couldn’t miss them.
A few days later, a woman came through the waiting area with hand-knitted hats and scarves. I was outfitted for the weather, but it was too late.
Two upper Respiratory Infections in the same month
I kept getting sick. I would go see the caseworker and she would drive me to the hospital. Two upper respiratory infections in a month. The lack of sleep and the stress had worn me down completely. I was nearing the end of my rope.
I got a bed upstairs
I went to see the caseworker after I got back from the hospital. She wrote a note for the shelter team and told me to see them that evening. Not all the homeless at the shelter were on the streets all day. I would watch as they came downstairs. They were cleaner and happier, laughing as they headed to the cafeteria. “How did they get upstairs?” I would ask myself as I watched them head to the cafeteria. I found out how that night.
My first visit to the Shelter Team
The Shelter Team came to work at around 8:00 P.M. Their office was in a room in the back of the shelter. The Shelter Team was protected by a Plexiglass barrier and an armed police officer.
I got there early. The cop gruffly told me to have a seat. I waited a few minutes before they raised the curtain to open for business. The Shelter Team member read the note, then she had me sign some papers, she wrote me a voucher and told me to go upstairs.
I took the elevator one floor up and got off into a different world. I exited the elevator into a brightly lit area. It was crowded with men sitting on chairs, hanging out, and walking the hallways. I sat in front of the closed office door and waited to be called.
A few minutes later, a huge man opened the door and told me to come on in. He read me a list of rules, then he had me sign some more papers, then he lead me to my room. Where I would spend the next three months.
Final Thought:
When you are going through a storm, ride it out, because storms blow over.
Homelessness
Why Are People Homeless?
Most people don’t choose that life
“Why don’t they get jobs? why did they choose that life?” I asked after I ran a homeless person off the property or after I called the cops on them. I was a security guard in Florida doing my job.
Some answers were obvious
Some of the answers were obvious. Alcohol and drug abuse is a scourge. It will continue to destroy lives and I see no easy answer to the problem.
I got a clearer picture when I became homeless. I might have been able to be salvaged in the first few weeks when I was on the streets. It didn’t take long before I was as screwed up like everyone else sleeping in the shelter.
We all make mistakes
People make mistakes in life. In my case, it was a combination of poor decisions and circumstances beyond my control. Homeless people rarely share their life stories, but the few who did tell me similar tales.
The stories I heard lead me to the conclusion. Some people can’t handle life. the minutiae of everyday life are too much for them. I often wondered if I fit into that category.
They don’t get jobs because they can’t function without help
The answer to why they don’t get jobs, a lot of homeless can’t function. They have trouble with basics like eating, bathing, or talking in coherent sentences. Much less keeping a job.
I hadn’t sunk that low, but some people weren’t as strong as I pretended to be. I don’t believe all the homeless choose that life, I know I didn’t.
Once you are there, it’s hard to get out
It’s hard to crawl out of a deep hole alone, and some people give up on the climb.
I don’t have the answers. I know in my gut that more needs to be done to help the mentally ill and people battling substance abuse.
I know that the poor and homeless will always be with us, but not all the homeless want to be on the streets. So we should be able to help them.
Final thought
Most homeless people don’t choose to be homeless. I met a few that preferred street life. It’s impossible to help those who don’t want help.
Homeless people are like anyone else. They are human and have made mistakes; I know I made plenty of them. So instead of ignoring them or tell them to “get a job.” Think to yourself, “ there but for the grace of God go I.”
The Two Guys I Will Never Forget
It’s funny how things stick in your mind
I left the homeless shelters in Minneapolis four years ago. I have come a long way since then. My life is so much better now, and I try hard to forget my time of homelessness.
Kindness not Forgotten
The bad memories still linger, but some good memories have stuck with me. I wonder if the two men who were kind to me remember me at all. I doubt it. It was seven years ago when these incidents occurred.
A Cold Morning before Sunrise
The shelter would roust us from our bunks and give us coffee and oatmeal or grits. Then they would throw us out into the street before sun-up. One morning, I was standing outside in the cold when a man in his thirties pulled up in his car and offered to buy me coffee. The old Lawson would have told him to piss off.”
He tried to convert me
“Sure,” I answered. I got in the car and we went to a Diner and had coffee. While we drank, the guy tried to convert me to Catholicism. I’m a Southern Baptist from Texas, so I found it funny. We drank our coffee and talked, and when we finished, he dropped me off at the library.
I was caught by surprise
The other incident happened two years later. Olivia, the woman I met online, had sent me money to get a haircut. The hair-cutter and I were talking. I told her the complete story of how and why I was homeless.
I didn’t thank him
There was another customer in the chair next to mine getting a haircut.
I barely noticed him. I wouldn’t know the guy if he walked into the room. After I got the haircut, I went to the counter to pay. “Someone paid for it for you.” The haircutter said. I was surprised and grateful. It lifted my spirits, and I had a little money to do something else that I otherwise wouldn’t have had.
Kindness has a ripple effect
The kindness these two men showed me still lingers. I have looked for a way to pay it forward since I left Minneapolis. I know that someday I will impact someone’s life The way these two men influenced mine. So, look for opportunities to be kind. You never know how that simple act will impact the one you are kind to.
You Have a Weeks Notice That You Will be Homeless
I didn’t have a week, I had twenty-four hours
I recently wrote a series of articles about my brief period of homelessness. I shared links to these articles on Quora. I am still receiving feedback on these articles.
People are curious about Homelessness
Someone asked me what should they do if they had a week’s notice that they would be homeless. I didn’t have a week, I had twenty-four hours to get out.
I should have read the writing on the wall and been better prepared, but that’s water under the bridge. I have advice that might be helpful, the advice I learned the hard way.
Don’t look like a tourist
I wish I would have had a duffel bag or a backpack, I had an overnight bag. When you’re waiting for a meal or a bed at a homeless shelter you want to be invisible. I stood out because I looked like a damned tourist, and it’s easier to get around with a backpack.
Be proactive, it will not go away
You should call around while you still have a phone, find out where the shelters are. If you have lots of friends, you could sofa hop for a few weeks or more.
I was in a new city, so I had no friends to help me. Sofa hopping wasn’t an option.
Forget about your stuff
You will have a house or apartment full of memories, stuff that means a lot to you, if it doesn’t fit in the backpack, leave it. and forget it.
I know it will be hard, but you will waste time and energy trying to keep the stuff you will lose anyway.
Don’t be afraid to seek help
If you’re employed, tell your employer what’s going on, They might be able to help you, or they might fire you. You will probably lose the job anyway, so you have nothing to lose, and they might be able to help.
Think, don’t let it overwhelm you
The best advice I can give is don’t give in to despair. You can’t think straight if you’re feeling sorry for yourself. If I had it to do over again, I would have worked out some plan.
If I would have talked to someone earlier, a County or State Agency, or a Church. The three years of homelessness could have been avoided.
Final thought
Becoming homeless is a traumatic experience. It can be easier if you think and make decisions from a place of calm. Reacting instead of acting will make a bad situation worse.
Get help from churches and Social Sevices, take advantage of every resource. Hang in there and take one day at a time, and you will get through it.
Have You Ever Wondered What It Would Be like in a Room Full of Homeless Men?
It’s sad and depressing
I Sat in the Library by a Picture Window and Watched as the Traffic Picked up on the Streets Outside. I Checked My Phone, It Was Time to Take the Long, Cold Walk Back to the Homeless Shelter.
I lost a lot of weight, and I ruined my knees
I arrived at the Shelter Early, the Security Person at the Desk Was Cool, He Let Me Sit In the Waiting Area. I Sat and Dozed and Watched as the Other Homeless Men Trickled In. It Was the Same Group Every Night, They Had Been Coming to the Shelter Every Night for Years.
There Was the Emaciated Old Guy, I’m Sure He Was Younger than He Looked. He Had Sunken Cheeks and He Was Too Thin, I Wondered If He Was a Junkie and If He Had Aids.
The faces rarely changed, the security staff knew us all by name
The Chubby African-American Arrived, He Sat at His Usual Spot. His Eyes Were Blood-Red from Whatever He Was High on That Evening. He’s Quiet, but I knew that wasn’t Going to Last.
It’s Early November, I Had Been on the Streets since Halloween Night. One of My Neighbors Wasn’t Quite Ready to Let It Go. He Wore the Pink Alien Ears Hairband Well into November.
The room was monitored by CCTV
As the Room Filled, It Got Louder, Guys Walked through the Room, “ Lao, Kush, Lao, Kush.” I Didn’t Know If They Were Buying or Selling, but Soon the Noxious Fumes of Marijuana Wafted through the Room.
That night, it was “ Gays in the military, but every night it was something different
As the Room Filled, the Waiting Men Got Louder. The Chubby African-American Guy Couldn’t Contain Himself Any Longer. “ What Are We Going to Do about Gays in the Military?” He Suddenly Yelled as He Looked around Desperately.
Everybody talked to themselves.
The Guy That Was Sitting across from Me was Talking to Himself in a Low Voice. I’m One of the Few Who Was Quietly Sitting. Everyone Else was Talking to Themselves, or Someone Else.
It Was Cold Outside. You Would Think That People Would Maintain, but Some Guys Never Learn. A Guy Was Very Drunk. He Was Trying to Start a Fight with Anyone Who Would Throw Down.
Two of the Hulking Security Staff Came into the Room and Bodily through the Man into the Streets. “ It’s Going to Be Fifty below Zero, You Dumb Son-Of-A-Bitch,” One of the Security Guys Muttered.
I honestly don’t remember tasting my food
A Silent Signal Went through the Room. We All Stand and Wait for the Dining Room to Open. I Get My Tray and Eat as Fast as I Can. I Never Finished a Tray the Whole Time I Was on the Streets.
The Security Guys Started Screaming That the Dining Room Was Closed. I Took My Tray to the Window and Hoped I Still Had a Seat in the Waiting Area.
During the Three to Four Hour Wait for a Bed, the Waiting Area Grew So Loud, and the Fumes from Weed So Thick, I Thought I Would Scream.
I learned to suspend judgment
I Watched and Wondered about the Young Guys, They Looked like They Still Should Be in High School. “ What Are They Doing Here?” I Often Wondered.
During the Rare Nights I Felt Anything at All, I Felt Bad for the Guys around Me. I Had Built a Fortress around My Heart. A Fortress Olivia Dismantled.
We started talking a few days before I was thrown out
As Olivia and I Got to Know Each Other, I Regained Hope for the Future. I Kept One Foot Planted in the Present Because I Couldn’t Let My Guard Down. I Kept the Other Foot in the Future. Olivia Kept Me from Stepping in Front of the Light-Rail.
God had other plans
At One Time, I Wondered Why Homeless People Stayed in That Life. I Understand Now. I Know I Would Still Be In the System If I Hadn’t Gotten to Know Olivia.
I Don’t Know Where I Would Be If God Hadn’t Provided an Out, but I’m Sure It Wouldn’t Be In a Good Place.
Final Thought:
If You Have Ever Wondered When You See a Homeless Person with a Sign, “ Why Don’t They Get a Job?” Volunteer at a Shelter, and Watch Them Closely. You Will Then Understand That the Homeless Are Homeless for a Reason. They Don’t Get Out of That Life Because They Can’t.
Knuckleheads and Fine Dining at the Homeless Shelter, and the walls were too Damned thin
People different than you and I
I’m lying on my bed at the homeless shelter when my stomach starts to rumble. It’s time to get up for breakfast. I get up and dressed, then I get my shaving stuff and head to the restroom and shower area.
I go downstairs and wait in line. On weekdays, there’s no hot breakfast, a choice of Bagels, or hot or cold cereal. There’s also juice and hot coffee.
It happened almost every morning
I sit with my crew at our usual corner table. We’re laughing and cracking wise on our neighbors when it happens. The smoke alarms go off.
It happens almost every morning, and often at lunch and dinner. I asked one of the employees what the Hell was going on with the smoke alarms. I couldn’t believe what she told me.
“ It’s because people are putting cream cheese and butter on their bread and bagels, then they put it in the toaster.” I laughed and shook my head.
“ no wonder the toasters are always broken,” I answered. It didn’t surprise me in the least. Homeless people are different. On my floor, the guy in the room next to mine loved porn.
Porn at full blast, without the visuals, is annoying
He would watch that crap with the volume full blast. Imagine trying to sleep, or read a book with that going on. I had another neighbor, he stayed down the hall, and he would have loud arguments with himself. At all hours of the day and night.
He would have loud arguments that could be heard all over the floor
He would also go on rants about the crack smokers on the floor. I know what crack smells like, it smells like burning tar. I never smelled that on my floor.
Another guy, an older man with Parkinson’s Disease so bad. You couldn’t walk too close to him, he would hit you without meaning to.
That was one reason I always wore shoes or slippers when I went to the toilet. He never could aim right. There was a guy on the floor above me. He would wake up around the time I went to bed.
He would turn on the TV so loud, I bet you could have heard in orbit. It was a trip living there, but I was grateful to be there regardless. Anything was better than being on the street or hanging in the library all day.
Always remember, no matter how bad things are, they can be worse, and be grateful for what you have. I wasn’t staying at the best place. It was better than sharing a room with ten other guys. It sure as Hell was better than loitering at the library.
Final Thought:
Appreciate what you have, some folks would kill for a lot less.
I Had Two Close Calls at the Homeless Shelter, All Because I Forgot My Own Rules
I didn’t keep my head down
The stress of being homeless, the lack of sleep, and not eating right took its toll on me. During the time I lived on the streets, I had worked hard to be invisible. I didn’t want the other homeless guys to look at me as weak. I wanted to be left alone.
When you’re around street people, violence, or the threat of violence can happen at any time. I had a few close-calls, at the time I didn’t care, death or hospitalization would have been a relief.
I wasn’t staring at him, but he thought he was being challenged
I sat in the waiting area at the shelter, sitting and minding my own business, staring into space in my world. I don’t know how long I was in the zone, but it was too long for the two guys sitting across from me.
One of the guys slammed his fist on the chair and glared at me, “ what the fuck are you staring at?” he and the guy jumped out of their chairs and crossed the space, and stood over me.
I was curious about what would happen next
“What’s your problem man?” one of them asked, as his buddy took a pocket knife from the pocket of his jeans. “You want a piece of me?” he asked.
A few days earlier, I had been crossing the light-rail tracks and found myself in the middle of the tracks. The warning bells sounded and the arms came down. I didn’t pick up my pace. The train driver leaned on his horn in a futile attempt to hurry me up.
I had quit caring
I didn’t care if the train hit me, and I didn’t care if the guy stabbed me, or not. I starred at the two guys. They grew bored and sat back down. I continued staring into space. The guy that instigated the whole thing stayed fixated on me the whole time I stayed on the street. I’m surprised he never took the opportunity to shank me.
I should have taken a cue from the other guys
There weren’t enough chairs in the waiting area. If I didn’t get a chair or lost it when I had to go to the john, I would have to go to the chapel. There were no chairs in the chapel, so I and the other late-comers would have to sit on the floor. I hated that because it was hard getting off the floor with my bad knees.
The guy was nuts or evil, maybe both
I went in the waiting area one night, and a guy was stretched out sleeping on a row of chairs. I wasn’t thinking, and I didn’t want to sit on the floor. I tapped the psycho on the shoulder and asked him to get up. If I would have paid attention, I would have noticed that the sleeper was getting a pass from the other guys.
He woke up cursing me. He sat up, but then I became a target for his wrath. He harangued and cursed, then he took a lighter from his pants and tried to set me on fire.
The Security guy probably thought I was being a snitch
I got up and headed for the nearest security guy, he looked at me like I was nuts. I ended up on the floor in the chapel after all.
I spent several days plotting how I could get a knife and shank the guy, but I didn’t have to do that. He was walking through the waiting area one night, grabbed his leg, and fell to the floor screaming. Security had to call 911. I never saw the guy again.
The two guys that wanted to shank me still had it out for me, but I kept a wide berth. I got a bed upstairs a few months later, so I never had to worry about them again.
Final Thought:
If you’re ever in the situation I was in, never forget the type of people you’re around. Try not to make eye contact and mind your business, because they will not hesitate to mess you up.
My Stories About Homelessness
Circumstances and bad decisionsmedium.com
Three common Questions People Have About Homelessness
A little compassion would be nice
I signed the citation the police officer handed me, then I turned to the homeless man standing in front of me. He had a sullen look, and he wouldn’t look me in the eyes.
I said it so often that I knew it by heart
I gave the man “ The Speech.” You are trespassed from the bus terminal. if Security sees you on the property, we will call the police and have you arrested, do you understand?
The homeless were required to answer. “ Yeah, I understand.” The homeless also had to sign the citation. The police officer would watch as the man walked off the property.
I didn’t understand then but I do now
I worked at the terminal for over a year. There are things I didn’t understand about the homeless, but now I understand. I understand because a few years after I worked that post, I became homeless.
If you had to spend a night in a shelter, you would get it
People wonder, “why do they camp outside?” I never camped outside. If I had a tent, and if I was anyplace other than freezing cold Minneapolis, I damned sure would have.
Homeless shelters are crowded and noisy. Most of the men around me were under the influence of something, or plain nuts. If you looked at someone wrong or said something to “ disrespect” someone.” You ran the risk of getting hurt or killed.
The staff at the shelter I suspect were ex-cons. I earned respect from them because I wasn’t a trouble-maker. They were aggressive toward anyone who stepped out of line. Being surrounded by so much insanity wears on you after a while.
If you yell “ get a job” at a homeless person, you need to get right with God
A question that angers me. I know it runs through people’s minds because I thought the same thing when I was a security guard, “ Why don’t they get a job?”
Most of us couldn’t take care of ourselves. from basic hygiene to fixing our own meals, or getting out of bed on time. Most of us couldn’t handle any of that.
At one time, I had no problem with any of that stuff, but after a few months, that changed. I quit caring, apathy fell on me like a ton of bricks.
If they found jobs, they were out of the shelter as soon as they could
The ones who could get jobs, got them and they were out of the shelter in good time, but most of us were there for the long haul. Before you yell, “ Get a Job,” remember that they are homeless for a reason, they don’t work because they can’t.
Be nice, because what goes around, comes around
I learned a lot when I was homeless. I’m more compassionate, and I am more understanding, and I wish that everyone would look at the homeless differently.
Final Thought:
Before you yell “ Get a job,” remember that it could happen to you, and kindness and compassion go a long way.