Drew T

This interview again highlights the importance of the family as a stabilizing influence and as a launching pad for many of the values that we will use throughout life.

I met Drew on a sunny December Day in 2007. It was an hour or so after I interviewed Julia, so I was still a little spent emotionally. He was on a corner holding a sign asking for donations. I happened to have $5 in my pocket so I told him I'd give it to him if he'd spend 10 minutes with me talking about his life honestly. He agreed. He is a handsome young man, tall and with a dark complection. He did not look like an addict. As is the case with many people I interview, I had mixed feelings as I was interviewing him. Was he proud of his way of life? Would he do it over again? Is he doing this for attention? And, as is usually the case, the answers came towards the end as he naturally opened up in a couple instances, answering not only these questions but reinforcing my conclusion that these young people are getting trapped while they are very young and can spend their lifetimes looking for a foothold to freedom.

We sat inthe sunlight against a marble storefront at the feet of hundreds of Christmas shoppers and had this conversation. It is, as always, transcribed verbatim.

What’s your name?
Drew.

And your last initial, Drew?
T.

And how long have you been on the streets?
Since I was 13, so about 11 years now.

And what got you on the streets in the first place?

Um, my mom passed away and I got into drugs. Um, I started traveling; you know I just never got myself together after I dropped out of school.

Your mom died, and then what happened immediately after that?
Uh, they threw me into a foster home and from there I didn’t do very well. I just took off and started going from city to city.

Where was this at?
It started out in New York where my mom passed away and Ohio was the foster care family I was with. And from there I went to Georgia and San Francisco, all over the place.

Why did you go to Ohio? Did you have family there or something like that?
Well, I got into legal trouble in New York so they put me in a foster care system in Ohio.

What kind of legal trouble did you get into in New York? Was that drugs?
Yeah, just drugs, fightin’ and stuff like that, yeah. Problems at school.

And what education do you have right now?
I have my GED.

And how long have you been in Portland?
Uh, this time about 10 months.

And you like it here?
Yeah I do.

What’s good about Portland that’s not good about other cities?
There’s a lot of friendly people, the weather for he most part is mild, for the most part it doesn’t get extremely cold or extremely hot, there’s a lot of services here for homeless people, just a nice area.

OK.
Very hip town…


Yeah it is that, isn’t it? Tell me a little more about your family. You mentioned your mom passed away - what else do you know? Do you have brothers or sisters, uncles...?
I have adopted brothers and sisters. I was adopted so…

When were you adopted, Drew?
When I was in that foster care family they adopted me.

At this point we are approached by a scantily-dressed, tough-looking young lady who eyes me suspiciously. She looks at Drew intensely, nods to me as if to say, “Who’s this?” Drew replies, “That’s my friend. Just a few minutes.” This seems to satisfy her and she goes around the corner out of view.

Drew continuing: Yeah, so I was adopted and from there I just ran around and then I get sent back to them when ever I got caught again. My real dad lives in Michigan, but we don’t get along that well. We do talk sometimes, but…we’ve never really known each other.

And what’s he do?
He’s a truck driver.

Do you ever see him?
Um…occasionally I see him maybe once or twice a year, something like that. His girlfriend doesn’t like me too much.

I’ve heard that before.
Yeah…

Do you like being on the street?
I get tired of it…I get like…it’s getting old, you know.

What is it that gets old to you – what’s the worst thing about it?
I have a heroin drug habit. So…half of me…sometimes…people don’t think this...people think that drug addicts are lazy, but heroin’s a full-time job. You gotta get up in the morning to get your tricks or you’re gonna be hurtin’. You gotta get out there and get your money or you’re not gonna make it, you know what I mean? It is a hard lifestyle, and I’m tired of it.

I’m sure.
It was all glamour when I got into it, you know? Havin’ a good time, partying, and it just gets old after a while.

Is this something you’re going to do? Are you going to get off this eventually?
Yeah, I’m actually working on getting in a methadone clinic – it’s $60 to get in. So…once I can make that along with what I need for the day…you know…

So you need a daily fix and then you can go to the methadone clinic.
Once I get on methadone I won’t need that daily fix.

I’ve interviewed a lot of kids on heroin –
A lot of street kids are on heroin.

Yeah, it’s a rough life, it really is.
Yeah.

So where do you see yourself in five years?
Hopefully in college. That’s what I want…I want to go to school to be a journalist. Do what you’re doin’… (chuckles)

So tell me about this foster family. Why couldn’t they send you $60?
They cut me off when they found out I was using drugs.

What kind of people are they?
They live in a small town in Ohio, in Amish country, so they’re very conservative people, you know.

Are mom and dad both home and that kind of stuff?
Yeah, my step dad is a sign painter and my adopted mother; she works as a nurse’s assistant. I have three sisters and one brother. The sisters are between the ages of nineteen and thirteen and, um, my brother is like twenty-six.

And have you been in contact with any of those guys?
Yeah, I’ve been writin’ ‘em. They’re good people.

They’re friendly to you and all?
Yeah, we get along better in the past year or so than we ever have before. They’ve always been good to me but you know, the situation where we got to know each other was not a good one on my part so I just never got along with them until recently.

So how’d your mother pass away?
She OD’d on heroin. Seems like it’s a generational curse.

Drew, one more question. If you could say one thing to a thirteen year old kid, what would it be?
(Long pause). A thirteen year old kid in my situation, facing something like (the death of a parent)…

Sure, let’s do that.
Ask for all the help that you can get. And no matter what it feels like at this time in your life, in the long run if you’ll listen to what the older folks say, you’ll be a lot better off.

Alright.
That’s my best advice. When you’re thirteen years old you don’t know everything. You almost got that teenager attitude where you don’t what to listen to anything. Especially in my situation because I was forced into going from Brooklyn to a small town in Ohio where people are conservative and I was raised in a liberal household and I didn’t want to hear anything those people had to say. And now I wish I would have listened to some of it.

Why did you run? Were you mad at someone…?
I was mad at the world, really.

Because of what happened and stuff, right?
Yeah, I grew up…my mom followed the Grateful Dead when I was growing up and when Jerry Garcia quit touring, passed away, we moved to Brooklyn and it just went down hill after that.

Drew, thanks so much.
Yeah, no problem.

By the way, you are better than this. You can do better – I know you can.
Yeah, I know. I’m going to.

Be patient...

I've received a few requests for the next installment, and it is late I admit. Thank you for keeping on me about it! Anyway, the interview I referred to last time has been postponed, but I have another interview I think you will also find interesting and compelling that I will try to post by the end of the week. I hope to have the interview with my friend who "made it out" completed and transcribed soon.

Thanks again for your encouragement and kind words. And please don't forget to send the link to your friends. I have a strong feeling that the more this little blog gets out the better chance we'll have of setting up a system that will allow us to get those brave souls that want a change off the streets. That's the whole reason for this blog.

We'll talk soon!

Eric

Update: Cool things to come!

Hey there, folks! It’s been an exciting last few weeks as I have had a lot of cool feedback from readers in person and a few online. I have another video I’d like to share with you, a way for you to actually subscribe to this blog so you get automatic updates when I add new interviews or entries (check out the box to the left of the heading) and a very cool development as well.

Regarding the cool development, I have been fortunate enough to get to know a person in Bend that has had a phenomenal life. She was born into difficult circumstances and from there things got worse. She and her siblings were adopted by a family that seemed nice on the outside but the father was sexually abusive. Now if this sounds like some of the interviews you’ve read on this blog, you’re right. However, the very cool part of this is that this woman is by all accounts very successful with a great family life. I am proud to call her and her husband my friends and I look up to and admire them in many ways. Even better is that she is also aware of my blog and has agreed to allow me to interview her about her childhood anonymously. What I’d like from you are questions you’d like me to ask. Please forward these to me via the “comments” section at the bottom of this blog entry so others can see what you are interested in. This will jog your thoughts (unless you’re the first to respond, I guess) and allow others to get ideas as well. I am excited to interview her because although we know that so many are out there that need our love and understanding, it is nice on occasion to find someone to give us hope and to see what worked in her life so we can one day apply her successes to someone with a similar background. I’d like to be ready to interview her by February 2. I expect the interview to be longer than normal, but will work to get it published by the 14th. I’m so stoked to get your questions and comments and see what and who made the difference for her!

Thing #2: Some of you have asked how you can help. Well, until I have some of my regular “day-time job” stuff figured out, I think there’s not too much, except for the input above, to subscribe and spread the word to increase readership of this blog. But let me tell you where I would like this to go someday and maybe I can get your ideas here as well. I want to go to a city, any city, various cities, and continue to interview and publish interviews. You know, whenever I go to interview I pray for the same things: I pray to find someone with a compelling story, someone I can help or give hope to and I pray to be safe. Well, so far so good every time. I want to keep doing the interviews, but it's so hard to talk to these people and then leave them with only a good word of encouragement. Watching Julia go back to the very people that feed her illness about ripped my guts out. So I’d like to have a system set up where I can help someone meaningfully if I ascertain they are ready. Let’s say I find someone who is really, really ready to get off heroin, but they lack the money for methadone treatment, a safe place to be and they’re surrounded by evil friends. Wouldn’t it be cool to be able to buy them a bus ticket to, say, Portland (if they’re not from there) where I would meet them? I would personally escort them to a methadone clinic and make sure they get on that program. Then I’d get them enrolled at maybe an “Oxford House” (see http://www.oxfordhouse.org/) or some other safe place. After that, I / we’d get them to treatment every day. I / we would make sure they got enrolled in a trade school or community college and just help them back on their feet. In return, they would have to submit to drug tests regularly and meet certain benchmarks that show that they are committed to progressing and that they are not wasting resources that might be better spent on someone more committed. The screening process would be key, but my good friends at Mammas Hands (http://www.mammashands.com/) have that pretty wired already and they’ve given me all the forms necessary to go. We could start with one person and expand as quickly as I / we could. Actually, I already have the “nonprofit” organization papers filled out and ready to submit. It’s just a matter of coming up with the $850 to make it happen, which I will do ASAP. Anyway, that’s my dream and I think it’s not impossible to start as soon as I get a few things figured out. What do you think?

Finally, here’s the link to a great and very applicable song that each and every homeless young person needs to hear and know.

http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&VideoID=8187291

Just copy and paste the address above into the address bar of your browser, hit "enter" and it should go.

I hope we can spread the message of this song to these young people. We can do this by a smile, a blanket, a cup of soup or getting them away from danger as I have described.

Thank you so much for your kind thoughts, prayers and words.

Please subscribe to this blog and send a link to 4 or 5 of your close friends! I am a firm believer in momentum and in the power of many people with a passion for a change. We can all make a difference on a very personal level to some people who need it very badly!

Eric
youthstories@gmail.com
541-948-7445 cell

Julia P

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” I said, and started walking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I ask you a question?” I said.

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

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

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

Here is the interview.

What’s your name?
Julia P.

And how old are you, Julia?
I’m 25.

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

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

What part of Hawaii?
The big island.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, sure.
Lots of counseling (chuckles).

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

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

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

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

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

It’s a constant struggle for you?
Yeah.

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

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

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

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

OK. Thanks for your candor.
Sure.

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

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

Your mom passed away giving birth to you?
Yeah.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

Your comments are welcome and encouraged.

Eric

Anthony R

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

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

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

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

How old are you?
Eighteen.

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

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

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

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

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

Is that right?
Yeah.

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

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

Who lives there?
My buddy Don.

That’s your family?
That’s all I got.

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

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

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

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

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

Some controversy behind it all, huh?
Yeah.

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

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

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

How much is a ticket to Boston?
124 dollars.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And your mom passed away three weeks ago?
Yeah.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That’s cool.
And I’m up here.

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

Still in Coos Bay with your step dad?
Unfortunately.

And your brother?
He’s nine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

World On Fire

Hey!

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

Thanks again Rhonda, and here's the video!

Eric

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

Vision

Hi everybody-

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

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

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

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

Eric

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

Eric