Homeless Encounters

Living in Los Angeles has thrown on me numerous experiences with the homeless, whether it be just walking past them while they sleep on the street, giving them money through the car window as they pass through traffic, buying them food after eating at a restaurant and seeing them outside, or going to Skid Row with Monday Night Mission. These are just three observations of three different individuals.

In the past month, I've been to Little Tokyo about 5 times, and each time, I've been approached by a homeless person asking for donations. Each time I've given them some change, but only once did a person stop and talk with me this weekend. His name was Larry. He told me about how he ended up on the streets. Larry was originally from the South, lost his job, fell on hard times, and followed the advice of a church pastor to travel to California where the weather was constant year round. He was trying to find a job but it’s hard when the environment is not conducive to employment- he has to take public transportation, has no income except for the change people spare him, and is surrounded by the wrong kind of people. The only thing that keeps him alive is his faith in the Lord.

My second story is credited to my brother Ryan, who gave a homeless man a ride while it was raining one night. The man was in prison for 14 years for GTA. Despite the fact that prison isn't the ideal place to be, he wanted to return to prison because there wasn't much help for him once he got out. He didn't feel like his patrol officer was any help either, and he just could not get back on his feet. He had been homeless for about a year at that point. Even though he did have family, his parents did not help him pay his way through college, and he resented that. His own family and kids had also moved on and left him to fend for himself.

The last encounter was at the McDonald’s near my home. My brother and I were there for a late night snack and saw the same homeless man we always see there. My brother, being the more sociable one, struck up a conversation with him. His story about how he ended up on the streets started out about how he became disabled, lost his home, could no longer get his disability check, and therefore no longer had an income. He didn't like to ask for money (and he didn't ask us for money) because he felt embarrassed to be homeless. He told us about how he sleeps under a bench, even though he is still in contact with his sister who gave him a cell phone to keep in touch with her. But for some reason, we didn't ask, she couldn't help him out with his situation.

I don’t know how much of these stories are true, how much is fabricated for my sake, but these are their personal accounts.