I met my homeless friend, in Berkeley, CA, 10/1/13. He was trying to better himself. I, having lived in Denver for 8 years, had gone home to the Bay Area for the winter, suffering myself, from economic hardship. I had learned that when I am hard-up if I help others less fortunate it seems to attract me to where I am supposed to be. Wm had been striving to get his life on track for some time. The housing situation in the Northern CA is impossible & there are very few services even for those trying to help themselves.
I gave him my phone number and offered him what help I could. Although he was seriously scarey to some, I was not afraid of him. I don't know why - but I saw through his act. Wm called me several weeks later & I became his mentor. At that time, he was not doing well.
Knowing he was in crisis I began to meet w/ him daily but circumstances took a turn for the worse for him and left us scrambling to find stability again. He told me about his family. I could see that his siblings, loved him, but had families of their own and did not know what to do with him. He had had an extremely difficult life. Judge not, lest ye be judged. Walk a mile in Wm's shoes? No thanks. He has 5 siblings in the Bay Area and beyond, but they are estranged. I did talk to one of his sister's once. She verified his story which does sound a little far-fetched - but once she confirmed everything he had told me - I became 100% committed to see this thing through to the end.
Through prayer and meditation, I received direction regarding how to deal with Wm. A lot of people knew him and had given up. He is whacked when not on his meds - but how can someone be expected to remember to take their meds consistently when living on the street?
It is totally disorienting not having 4 walls within which to have your "stuff". Then the cops have a habit of shaking down the homeless, and this is very disrupting. Wm had a series of coats that he wore and the pockets were his filing system. When the cops would shake him down and make him dump hs pockets - it would take another hours to 2 re-organize everything. Of course he would forget to take his meds. He had an elaborate schedule of places to get breakfast, lunch and dinner daily which involved walking for miles and then once a week he would take the bus to Planet Fitness where he had a membership, to take a shower, because some woman in a community center meeting had the audacity to complain that he smelled. Wow.
I decided to change my approach to him from mentor to friend, because I could see that he needed so much more than to just a "case manager" type. The lack of empathy in the community, the fact that he did not have any place that would accept him, his malnourishment from living on the street, his lack of wholesome activity proved to me that there was a lot of groundwork to be done to get him ready to even have a desire for have a different kind of life. I was myself, barely employed, teaching art to a woman w/ dementia for a small weekly stipend. I was unsuccessfully finding other paid work. My work at the community center was volunteer. I had been taught that when in trouble, service to others would save me, so that's what I was doing.
I found out that Wm was artistic so I gave him a set of watercolors & a pad. He started to paint. He & I began to collaborate on paintings together. He also began to write stories. I began to include him in a weekly spiritual group I was doing by phone to Arvada, CO because I found he had a fascination for history his mind would be fired some of the old-time folks in the group. I knew from listening that Wm has genius quality intelligence. He is scientifically-oriented & has a photographic memory. He has amazing comprehension & the possibility of being able to apply concepts meant to me that he just needs to be nurtured into finding something that he is interested in and could be useful doing. I intuitively felt that he hungers for and is the kind of person who could do great things in the world, if he were given the opportunity.
Wm grew to love the phone-in group and I got the idea that it might be good to take a road-trip to Denver so he could meet my friends. I had a feeling we would get better veteran services in Denver than we were getting in Oakland. We began praying about this to see if it was a good idea.
At this time, Wm decided to “move” from Berkeley to San Pablo, CA to be nearer to me. There were no homeless people in San Pablo, but that did not stop him. He was immediately picked up by the police & taken to the psych ward & shot up w/ Halidol. I had a talk w/ the police & told them I was working with him. They did not bother him after that. Once he moved to San Pablo, he & I started to go to the food pantry every week & I started to cook for him & bring him food outside. Unfortunately, my roommates were not keen on having a homeless guy hanging around. They put restrictions on me as to how often he could come in. I would sneak him in to my room & feed him & let him sleep as much as I could – also let him take showers when people were not around. For his birthday, I took him out to my sister’s place in the country so we could go to the ocean. We spent a couple of days out there. He bought a scrabble set and began to play.
I finally went to Wm’s psychiatrist in March, got his diagnosis & med. Instructions. I talked to her about his history as he had been going there for many years. Wm has brain damage from an accident in his early 20s. He has been homeless on and off for over 40 years. He has had periods of time when he did well, but he was always living with other people. Once he tried to live on his own things would go downhill again and he would end up on the street. He had started taking his meds on his own in the beginning of March 2014 & he was remarkably different, but Berkeley Mental Health had already exhausted all efforts at getting him housing in the past & the housing market was now so tight they could not help. I had answered an ad for a VA counselor. The VA in CA seems to use non-profits to work with vets. They are very inattentive. We got nowhere.
At the end of March, the woman I was teaching had a stroke. I lost my job. I was paying for April with a painting, but after that, if I didn't get another job, I would be on the street myself. It seemed like a trip to Denver was what God wanted for us. I continued to care for Wm & at this point I figured out a way to let him sleep in my car if I parked it by the 18-wheelers. I would bring him food in the morning & we began to do morning meditation together.
If I had had been in my own place, I would have moved Wm in but renting a room in a house w/ people who didn’t care made that impossible. We started thinking about finding housing together – we get along so well – It could be an even trade – we could provide stability for each other. Having a friend seemed to help him find a light at the end of the tunnel. I also feel better – more focused, happier.
Wm used some of his April money from his SSDI check to tune-up my car in preparation for this trip. By this point he was also contributing to gas & some of my other expenses. At this point he & I considered ourselves a unit: 1 for all & all for 1. May 3 we left for Denver. I thought we might return to CA. My friend, who I stayed with when I first got back to Denver, is a veteran who volunteers w/ veterans. He had visited CA a few weeks prior & offered to help Wm get benefits.
When we got to Denver we were staying w/ one of my other friend's house for a week. Wm had a bad reaction to living indoors at my friend's condo and we had to put him out. It ws a weird experience - he just kind of went wild, so we took him down to where all the shelters are and gave him some warm clothes and let him go figure it out. May in Denver is a rocky month weather-wise. Wm found himself in snow storms, rain storms and hail storms. At 63, he could not take it - he started to get on line to go into a men's night shelter for food and a bed. Then he began to get reasonable about getting into the veteran's domiciliary. Whereas when we had first arrived he had been very headstrong and kind of scarey at being cooped up in a house - the weather had turned him and he began to change. He spent 6 months in the Dom getting socialized and eating food, going to the doctor and other activities. In November of 2014, DHA gave us a 2-bedroom voucher and the VA gave us an apartment in the Veteran's family building. We have been living here for 6 months now. I have been trying to feed Wm good food and help him acclimate to living inside.
After having had 2 crappy jobs, I now have a good job. We put money and effort toward living together in a self-supporting manner for the highest good of both of us. Wm sees his VASH counselor once a month. Things are good. I have a feeling this information might be of use to others who are trying to "help the homeless" which is why I wrote it down.
I think the first thing I read that helped me with this situation was this article. Plus prayer, meditation and my good friends.
I gave him my phone number and offered him what help I could. Although he was seriously scarey to some, I was not afraid of him. I don't know why - but I saw through his act. Wm called me several weeks later & I became his mentor. At that time, he was not doing well.
Knowing he was in crisis I began to meet w/ him daily but circumstances took a turn for the worse for him and left us scrambling to find stability again. He told me about his family. I could see that his siblings, loved him, but had families of their own and did not know what to do with him. He had had an extremely difficult life. Judge not, lest ye be judged. Walk a mile in Wm's shoes? No thanks. He has 5 siblings in the Bay Area and beyond, but they are estranged. I did talk to one of his sister's once. She verified his story which does sound a little far-fetched - but once she confirmed everything he had told me - I became 100% committed to see this thing through to the end.
Through prayer and meditation, I received direction regarding how to deal with Wm. A lot of people knew him and had given up. He is whacked when not on his meds - but how can someone be expected to remember to take their meds consistently when living on the street?
It is totally disorienting not having 4 walls within which to have your "stuff". Then the cops have a habit of shaking down the homeless, and this is very disrupting. Wm had a series of coats that he wore and the pockets were his filing system. When the cops would shake him down and make him dump hs pockets - it would take another hours to 2 re-organize everything. Of course he would forget to take his meds. He had an elaborate schedule of places to get breakfast, lunch and dinner daily which involved walking for miles and then once a week he would take the bus to Planet Fitness where he had a membership, to take a shower, because some woman in a community center meeting had the audacity to complain that he smelled. Wow.
I decided to change my approach to him from mentor to friend, because I could see that he needed so much more than to just a "case manager" type. The lack of empathy in the community, the fact that he did not have any place that would accept him, his malnourishment from living on the street, his lack of wholesome activity proved to me that there was a lot of groundwork to be done to get him ready to even have a desire for have a different kind of life. I was myself, barely employed, teaching art to a woman w/ dementia for a small weekly stipend. I was unsuccessfully finding other paid work. My work at the community center was volunteer. I had been taught that when in trouble, service to others would save me, so that's what I was doing.
I found out that Wm was artistic so I gave him a set of watercolors & a pad. He started to paint. He & I began to collaborate on paintings together. He also began to write stories. I began to include him in a weekly spiritual group I was doing by phone to Arvada, CO because I found he had a fascination for history his mind would be fired some of the old-time folks in the group. I knew from listening that Wm has genius quality intelligence. He is scientifically-oriented & has a photographic memory. He has amazing comprehension & the possibility of being able to apply concepts meant to me that he just needs to be nurtured into finding something that he is interested in and could be useful doing. I intuitively felt that he hungers for and is the kind of person who could do great things in the world, if he were given the opportunity.
Wm grew to love the phone-in group and I got the idea that it might be good to take a road-trip to Denver so he could meet my friends. I had a feeling we would get better veteran services in Denver than we were getting in Oakland. We began praying about this to see if it was a good idea.
At this time, Wm decided to “move” from Berkeley to San Pablo, CA to be nearer to me. There were no homeless people in San Pablo, but that did not stop him. He was immediately picked up by the police & taken to the psych ward & shot up w/ Halidol. I had a talk w/ the police & told them I was working with him. They did not bother him after that. Once he moved to San Pablo, he & I started to go to the food pantry every week & I started to cook for him & bring him food outside. Unfortunately, my roommates were not keen on having a homeless guy hanging around. They put restrictions on me as to how often he could come in. I would sneak him in to my room & feed him & let him sleep as much as I could – also let him take showers when people were not around. For his birthday, I took him out to my sister’s place in the country so we could go to the ocean. We spent a couple of days out there. He bought a scrabble set and began to play.
I finally went to Wm’s psychiatrist in March, got his diagnosis & med. Instructions. I talked to her about his history as he had been going there for many years. Wm has brain damage from an accident in his early 20s. He has been homeless on and off for over 40 years. He has had periods of time when he did well, but he was always living with other people. Once he tried to live on his own things would go downhill again and he would end up on the street. He had started taking his meds on his own in the beginning of March 2014 & he was remarkably different, but Berkeley Mental Health had already exhausted all efforts at getting him housing in the past & the housing market was now so tight they could not help. I had answered an ad for a VA counselor. The VA in CA seems to use non-profits to work with vets. They are very inattentive. We got nowhere.
At the end of March, the woman I was teaching had a stroke. I lost my job. I was paying for April with a painting, but after that, if I didn't get another job, I would be on the street myself. It seemed like a trip to Denver was what God wanted for us. I continued to care for Wm & at this point I figured out a way to let him sleep in my car if I parked it by the 18-wheelers. I would bring him food in the morning & we began to do morning meditation together.
If I had had been in my own place, I would have moved Wm in but renting a room in a house w/ people who didn’t care made that impossible. We started thinking about finding housing together – we get along so well – It could be an even trade – we could provide stability for each other. Having a friend seemed to help him find a light at the end of the tunnel. I also feel better – more focused, happier.
Wm used some of his April money from his SSDI check to tune-up my car in preparation for this trip. By this point he was also contributing to gas & some of my other expenses. At this point he & I considered ourselves a unit: 1 for all & all for 1. May 3 we left for Denver. I thought we might return to CA. My friend, who I stayed with when I first got back to Denver, is a veteran who volunteers w/ veterans. He had visited CA a few weeks prior & offered to help Wm get benefits.
When we got to Denver we were staying w/ one of my other friend's house for a week. Wm had a bad reaction to living indoors at my friend's condo and we had to put him out. It ws a weird experience - he just kind of went wild, so we took him down to where all the shelters are and gave him some warm clothes and let him go figure it out. May in Denver is a rocky month weather-wise. Wm found himself in snow storms, rain storms and hail storms. At 63, he could not take it - he started to get on line to go into a men's night shelter for food and a bed. Then he began to get reasonable about getting into the veteran's domiciliary. Whereas when we had first arrived he had been very headstrong and kind of scarey at being cooped up in a house - the weather had turned him and he began to change. He spent 6 months in the Dom getting socialized and eating food, going to the doctor and other activities. In November of 2014, DHA gave us a 2-bedroom voucher and the VA gave us an apartment in the Veteran's family building. We have been living here for 6 months now. I have been trying to feed Wm good food and help him acclimate to living inside.
After having had 2 crappy jobs, I now have a good job. We put money and effort toward living together in a self-supporting manner for the highest good of both of us. Wm sees his VASH counselor once a month. Things are good. I have a feeling this information might be of use to others who are trying to "help the homeless" which is why I wrote it down.
I think the first thing I read that helped me with this situation was this article. Plus prayer, meditation and my good friends.