Kevin, 42
Published: May 27, 2009
It is June in a small city in the northeast, having been laid off from my job and abandoning my apartment, the only solution was to spend my last paycheck to rent a storage unit for my belongings and relocate. My SUV is my home now, a reasonably comfortable place to sleep and a durable shelter from the weather. Within days I beg for a job at a hardware store, which should earn enough to make the car payments and insurance.
I find out that homeless people are very much not wanted. The city police constantly harass me for hanging out in my car on the public street. I am often declared a “suspicious person” and have my vehicle searched and ransacked several times.
It will take a couple months before I can resume car payments and in the meantime I hide from the finance company parking and sleeping in another town. The day arrives where I get the paycheck, just one more night so I sleep a few blocks from my job. It is 3 am and I am awakened suddenly by the drastic lurching of the car. It must be an earthquake! I dart upright as the rear end of the car is lifted so high I roll into the front seat. With all the light I realize my car is being repossessed with me in it so I jump out of the car, startling the driver enough that he pulls a pistol out of the cab of the truck. After explaining the situation to the driver, I am allowed a few minutes to gather essentials from the car before it is towed away. As the tow truck pulls away the rain starts, reminding me how important the car was for basic shelter.
Just blocks from the hardware store, I think hard for a place to go to get out of the rain. I remember a shed that the store used to store potting soil and spend the rest of the night in the shed.
The next day I get my check that would have pacified the finance company but it is a few hours too late... After work it becomes clear that I will have to go to the local shelter. It becomes clear that shelter life will not be easy as I am surrounded by drug addicts, convicts and alcoholics, and the people running the shelter treat everyone as such.
Out of twenty people, I am the only one with a job, so there is resentment toward me. As a snorer, I am assaulted in the middle of the night multiple times. On my day off I must find a place to be during the hours of 9am and 4 pm. I become aware of the homeless around town, what they do, where they go and I realize I am the only one who spends the day at the library. One sunny day a couple of the guys check in and are sunburned on one side of their face and I realize they passed out drunk in the park for the day.
After 4 paychecks, 8 weeks of the shelter I have $1000, desperate to escape the shelter and buy a customized van. I survived the shelter. The first night I have the van I sleep comfortably knowing my home cannot be taken from me...or so I thought.
Share this story with others!