I went inside and signed up for a lunch pack, enough for a day or two if you used it wisely. Some of the stuff inside the plastic bag was not worth eating. However if you were hungry enough you would eat as much of it as possible in order to survive. Which, I ate as much as I could to fill my stomach. Next, I needed to get a shower and sign up for shelter. I headed towards the shelter listed on the sheet of paper I had been given by the gentleman from the Social Services Department. Off again I went. As I arrived where showers were available I was too late. I was out of luck and had to wait until tomorrow. All right, so what is next? This is where I needed to sign up for shelter too. I was told to wait for the shelter bus it would be along soon to take everyone to the shelter for the evening around 4:30 PM.
This photo of Bidwell Park is courtesy of TripAdvisor
Oh yeah! It can be real bad at times. I spent almost two months with an organization that through the churches set up a homeless program. When I first arrived and signed up for the program from March 17 St. Patrick's Day the day I got there off the Amtrak train from Redding, California in the early morning hours until Easter Sunday when they close the shelters.
The homeless program started on Christmas Eve. I wasn't there then thank God. I went to Chico, California because I did not want to be seen homeless in Redding, California where I lived and where people knew me. I had too much pride to ask my friends for help or burden them where I lived and had worked for years. So I felt it was best to leave Redding, California and at the same time I could research my legal case in the Chico State University library. Which, I did everyday when I didn't have other personal business to take care of while I was there.
During the time I was in Chico, California the homeless would go from church to church. The shelters were set up at different churches at different times. The non-dominations churches that housed the homeless from Christmas Eve until Easter Sunday for two weeks sometimes only a week at a time at some churches before everyone was moved to another church.
I spent one week at one church, and then we had to move on to the next church. Two weeks at the next one, then the last one for two weeks more. A bus provided by the City of Chico, California would pick us all up in the evenings in downtown Chico, California at the motel and transport us to the shelter. In the mornings the bus provided by the City of Chico, California would again pick us up at the shelter and take us to breakfast at the Jesus Center food give away Monday through Friday. In the evenings we could eat dinner there then take the City of Chico bus provided for the homeless going to the shelters during the week. The Jesus Center at the time was a few blocks from Chico State.
On Saturday and Sunday in this one park the college students set up lunches veggie style. (With signs reading "NO Bombs, feed the homeless!") Then on Sunday mornings a church made us a special breakfast and the Salvation Army served a great dinner on Sunday evenings. Even the shelters had dinner most of the time and plenty of coffee and tea to drink. We did not go hungry and starve to death. The rest of the time I spent homeless and slept in a run down old house in an attic with the rats for two weeks. The rest of the times I slept under a bridge for a few days and finally spent the remainder of the time sleeping in the Bidwell Park on top of picnic tables, three different ones. No it was not fun but I did meet some friends along the way. I was still able to eat at least at the Jesus Center food give away.
This photo of Bidwell Park is courtesy of TripAdvisor
We took showers at this motel set up for us to get showers Monday through Friday. Saturday and Sunday we were out of luck. When the shelters closed I would sneak into the men's gym at Chico University and take a shower now and then to get clean. I would go when no one was using the showers. And no it was not any fun it was very embarrassing. The Jesus Center at the time was a few blocks from Chico State.
After the homeless shelters closed down on Easter Sunday from there is when I had to sleep in Bid Well Park on a park bench or on the ground, or under bridges and even once in a abandoned old fraternity house. In the attic with all the rats crawling around and if you did not burn a candle they would crawl all over you. I lived like that for a couple of weeks.
On Mother’s day I called my Mom Collect to see if it would be ok to come up and visit her in Redding? She said, “yes” and I caught the next bus for Redding at noon. I never did return to Chico as I continued to stay with my Mom in Redding, California.
Homeless Image and Stereotypes:
Grubby faced, straggly beard and wild, unkempt hair. Drug addicts; alcoholics swilling methylated spirits encased in a brown paper bag and schizophrenics murmuring away to themselves or causing a scene in the streets. An old lady in a woollen hat struggling to push a shopping cart, complete with plastic carrier bags stuffed with useless junk.
Dirty, smelly, sub-human individuals. The dregs of society. Worthless bums too lazy to get a job. Passed out drunk on park benches or in urine-soaked bus shelters. Sat, cap in hand, begging in the high streets and shopping malls. Nothing more than an extension of all the other dirt and litter that ’something should be done about.’ You can almost picture the middle-class mother grabbing the curious young boy by the arm whilst telling him he should keep away from ‘people like that’.
Nothing useful to contribute to society.
How do we know that? Whilst some of these stereo-typical images may be valid in some instances, this says little or nothing about what contribution this person may have had in the past or what they could be capable of contributing in the future. There is no way of knowing, just by looking at them, what their background is or what brought about their demise. Kurt Cobain was well known for sleeping rough and associating with the homeless. You simply cannot know what talent or value lies behind the grubby facade.
I myself come from a middle-class background, am of reasonable intelligence, with a decent level of education. I had worked all my life, was happily married and owned my own home. I have never been a drug addict nor an alcoholic. The epitome of respectability, yet through circumstances largely beyond my control, I became homeless. There but for the grace of God.
We are all guilty, myself included, of these stereotypical associations whether they be valid or otherwise. Therefore, I am placing great importance on maintaining hygiene and attention to my appearance. I do not wish to be the one mothers tell their children to keep away from. If I allow my standards to slip in this respect I am likely to be consigned to a perennial nightmare.
Most of all, I am very aware that as soon as I start to look like a homeless person, I can expect to be treated like one.
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