16th and Island - Chapter 5 - Echelons and Neon Green Carpet (Part 3)

This is a continuation of a true story of a homeless family I was writing this spring - and got distracted from with helping my husband with Greek intensives! Here goes:

Pete motioned the tow truck driver to Susan's car. Susan panicked, "I don't want that Shelby seein' us leavin', and we just saw him by "God's Extended Hand". Can you tell the tow truck driver to not be stickin' out like a sore thumb into the innersection?"

       Pete agreed,  mumbling under his breath, "What does it matter if we are leaving? It's not like that loser has a car to follow us in", but told the driver and went to go get our car, which was parked across the street from God's Extended Hand, so that Shelby wouldn't see us leave. As the tow truck driver hooked up her car, Charles the Echelon, Judah the man who had protected her from Shelby night before, and several other homeless men gathered round Susan. Charles exclaimed, "Everything will be ok honey. Don't worry. It will be ok!" Of course it will, you crazy man! I thought. Now that they are getting off the streets away from scary people like you, and psychos who are threatening their lives, they will be immensely better than they are now! Susan hugged her friends, Judah especially tightly. "I promise to keep in touch with you guys - you have all been so good to me and my Jeb - thank ya!".

       Susan and Jeb, with his skateboard, got into the car, but I thought I saw in Susan's face the same look as I imagined Lot's wife to have when she left Sodom, as she waved goodbye to the five or so homeless men congregated around the car. I looked at Pete with a baffled look, who just shrugged. Pete told the tow-truck driver to follow him, and drove him to our church, Grace Fellowship, where we would leave Susan's car until we could figure out how to get it running.

     Susan thanked us profusely. "You guys have been reel life-savers today - I don't know how to thank ya' for gitten' me and my boy away from that crazy Shelby!"

     "Don't mention it - it is the Lord!"

     "Those guys, Judah, and Charles, they sho' have looked after me and Jeb. Growin' up in a middle-class family and all, I used ta think that homeless people were all just a bunch of drunks and druggies, but I sho' was wrong! There are some reel good 'uns out there, some reel good 'uns."

     "Well God protected you while you had to be down there, and He is protecting you now by finding you a placement."

    Jeb sighed. "I'm glad to be away from that place. It sceered me. Yesterday I saw a man with a gun stuck in 'is pocket, 'ould you believe it?"

     "Wow! Uh, what you like to do for fun, Jeb?" I asked trying to change the subject.

    "I like ridin' this here skateboard, and I used to play with my cousins back home." I almost expected him to say, "and we went fishin' for crawdad's and caught Junebugs and put 'em in jars and visited Gomer at the fillin' station."

      "Too bad he can't be with his cousins'" sighed Susan, "but my family, they just plain don' wanna help us, and we can't stay aroun where there ain't no jobs. That's why we come out to California." How could you think there would be jobs here? I puzzled.

      We pulled up to the church. Pete paid the tow truck driver, who happened to be a Christian and gave us a discount. "That's as much as I can take off without gettting into trouble," he told Pete.

       Susan got a few things from her car. "Well, I guess we better go by the house so I can change before work," Pete said.

16th and Island - Chapter 5 - Echelons and Neon Green Carpets (Part 2)

          When we got back to Susan and Jeb's car, I called Operation Hope to confirm that we were coming, and that there was still an opening. The lady on the phone confirmed that there was an opening, but said that they couldn't take anyone until 4 pm, when Russ the Office Manager would be in to interview them. She gave me Russ' number to call and let him know that we were coming.
         "Babe, they can't accept Susan and Jeb until 4 pm," I told Pete, motioning him a few yards away so that Susan and Jeb would not overhear. Reading his look of frustration and worry, I said, "Don't worry, I can drop you off at work and drive up there. I'll be okay."
        "But the car is having problems, and I don't like to think of you having to drive all the way to Vista by yourself. Why don't we come back for them another day?" Pete replied.
      "I will be fine," I said firmly. "I haven't had a chance to tell you, but Susan has gotten a death threat on her life, and  Jeb a kidnapping threat. We have to get them out of her as soon as possible." My jaw was set.
      Pete's eyes were big with alarm. "Well, I guess there is no choice then. At least we have roadside assistance," he sighed reluctantly.
      "I will be fine," I said, stroking Pete's arm reassuringly. "I need to call Russ, the manager at Operation Hope, and confirm that we are coming.
       I called Russ, expecting to hear the voice of a caring, counsellor sort of man, assuming that this would be the type of person working at a place for homeless families. Instead, his very brisque manner surprised me, but I assumed he must be overworked. He was very firm that Susan would have to get drug tested, and I assured him that this shouldn't be a problem, as Susan was not on drugs.
       Meanwhile, Charles, the homeless man who had told us that Susan and Jeb were in God's Extended Hand, had returned and was talking with Susan, while Jeb rode his skateboard. I noticed that Susan seemed very attached to him, and I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. I wonder if I would feel this way if he wasn't homeless. 

16th and Island - Chapter 5 - Echelons and Neon Green Carpet (Part 1)

Chapter 5 – Echelons and Neon Green Carpets

      “Well, I sure do appreciate it, more than you kin know!” Susan’s brown eyes, which I noticed were as big as Judy Garland’s, were shining.

      We walked out of God’s Extended Hand together.

      “Babe, Susan wants to go to Operation Hope,” I told Pete, trying not to let my voice show how ecstatic I was.

      “Jeb, we are going to go to a place called Vis-tah, they have a school for you to go to, and we will be away from this here place,” drawled Susan.

      Jeb tilted his head to the left and whistled. “Will they let me take my skateboard?”

      “Of course they will!” I assured.

      “Ok, well then I will call the tow company,” Pete said. “Where do you want us to tow your car Susan? To Vista?”

      “I reckon you know a good spot for it. I don’t know San Diego very good, so tow it wharever you be thinkin is best.”

      We arranged with the tow company to have it towed to the street in front of our church, Grace Fellowship, so that it would be easier to get it fixed for her. It was 11 am, and the tow company said they would be there in half an hour to forty-five minutes.

“We can come pick you guys up for church tomorrow so you can get to stuff in your car. Do you want to talk to the people at ‘Operation Hope’ and find out the rules and about Jeb’s school?”

      “You already had been talkin with them, right? I don’t want to be askin them the same things you asked them. They be sayin’ to themselves, this lady is re-dun-dant. I wanna be makin’ a good impression, so I ought not make them think I’m re-dun-dant,” Susan laughed.

      “Ok, whatever you think. I’ll just call to confirm that you guys are coming then,” I said.

      We began walking back to their car. Susan kept introducing us to her homeless friends, telling them that she and Jeb would be going to stay in a shelter in Vista. Meanwhile, Jeb road his skateboard up and down the street, and I kept a nervous eye out for Shelby, who had threatened to kidnap him. We met the wife of Bob, the veteran whose arm was hurt – she was visiting him from the hospital. Her diabetes had gotten so bad that she was in a wheelchair because her feet were too messed up to walk. Bob was upset that Pete would not jump start his car.

      It took us 20 minutes to get back to Susan’s car. “She and Jeb seem really popular down here,” I whispered in Pete’s ear.

16th and Island - Chapter 4- Operation Hope (Part Five)

Pete of course agreed to watch Jeb, who was happy to have more space for skateboarding, and I watched back into God's Extended Hand.

      I breathed a silent prayer – Help me Lord ­– as I walked back to sit down with Susan. Wanting to let Susan decide when she wanted to open up to me, I began talking. “So let me tell you what we were thinking, Susan. There is a place in Vista, called Operation Hope, where you and Jeb can stay. It is about 45 minutes from here, and Pete and I can drive you there if you want to go. Here’s a note I wrote you that I was going to leave on your car if we couldn’t find you.”

      Susan read the note aloud. “They have job training and a school for Jeb… This sounds real good – I can not turn down somethin’ like this!”

      “Now I know that you don’t know us, and for all you know we could be kidnappers, but we just felt God put it on our heart to at least offer you a ride up there.”

      “Yeah, you could take us little helpless North Carolina folks and sell us down the river and nobody would know whar we were,” Susan laughed. “No, I think this is from the Lowrd, there bein’ job trainin’ and a school for Jeb. You jus’ don’t understand what has happened to us the last few days. I come from good stock – a good middle-class, Christian family. I never thought I’d be homeless, and somebody would be trying to help me off the street. I told you already about that Shelby, the crazy that I came out here with who took off with all my money to go to Tijuahana, well he comes back here last night. And he wants back together, and when I tell him I don’t want nothin’ to do with him, well, he starts threatenin’ to kill me! Thank the Lowrd Jeb was asleep, so he did not hear any of that. Please don’t tell him about it – he should not have to know about that heavy stuff – he’s just a child.”

      “Of course…”.

      Susan interrupted. “Well, this rael kind man named Judah stayed with us in the car and guarded us all night. I sat up prayin’ all night that I could get Jeb and I to some place safe. So I’d be obliged to ya’ to git us away from har!” Susan was shaking like a leaf, but looked relieved.

      No wonder I couldn’t stop thinking about it – God wants us to get them out of here to save their lives! “Wow, that is horrible! I am glad you are safe! We will get you guys out of here.”

      “But wait a minute, what shood I do about my car! Shelby may try to stael it or git into it and take stuff if I jus’ pack up and go. Now, you’re friend Shawn (one of the college students, I barely knew him) said he wood try an fix it for me, maybe I shood wait for him to fix it first.”

      “Susan, you’re lives may be in danger. We will tow your car to wherever you want, and we can try to get it fixed from there. But for now, we just need to get you guys out of here.”

      “Well, I sure do appreciate it, more than you kin know!” Susan’s brown eyes, which I noticed were as big as Judy Garland’s, were shining.

16th and Island - Chapter 4 - Operation Hope (Part Four)

This is a true story. Some of the names have been changed.

      I squeezed Pete's hand, and walked into God's Extended Hand.

   I walked slowly towards the back of the room, which was packed full of homeless men, women, and a few children eating breakfast at white plastic tables. The room was simple, with few decorations, but clean. I breathed slowly as I approached Susan and Jeb's table. Susan and Jeb were eating the same meal as Charles - fake looking cafeteria eggs, a piece of sausage, a piece of toast, and a small side of fruit.

    "Hi Susan - do you remember me? I met you the other night in front of your car. Our church was passing out peanut butter sandwiches."

    Susan looked surprised and said, "Well, I sure do remember ya. Why don't ya sit yourself down in that ther char'? Are you hungry? Get yourself some fixins." Jeb grinned at me between mouthfuls of egg and toast.

     "Thanks, I already ate", I said, sitting across from her. "You are probably wondering why I am here. Since the other night when we met you guys, my husband and I couldn't stop thinking about you."

    Susan broke down into tears. I walked over to her and gave her a hug. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry".

     "You just can't begin to understan' all we've been through, and this is all jus' so embarrasing. I'm grew up in a good, upright, Christian middle class family, and to be down here, homeless, it would make my poor Mama roll over in her grave!"

     "You've just fell on some hard times, that's all, Susan. It could happen to anyone."

     "You're so kind," Susan dried her eyes, and put on a smile. I sat back down, this time next to her. "We've had a lot of people be real kind to us, down here, so I don't mean to be complainin' none. Jeb, show this here lady the skateboard Santa gave ya at your school! The school he goes to, hit be for homeless kids, it's called the Monarch School, well they gave him that thar skateboard for Christmas," she whispered confidentally.

    Jeb smiled brightly, "Don'ya jus' love it? Hit can go reel fast" He was beaming with pride, as he started riding it back and forth on the ceramic tile floor. And of course no one thought to donate pads or a helmet to go with it! Oh well, he is so happy.

    "Mama, this har floor is too bumpy - I want to go outside and skateboard!"

     "Jeb, now you jus' have to wait - I'm talkin' to this lady, and don't ya be rude!" Susan yelled

     "Yes Mama," Jeb replied. What a sweetheart! Homeless and going through hell, and more polite then most kids I know!

     "So how have you guys been doing since the other night?" I asked.

     Susan looked as if she would tear up again. She leaned over to me and whispered, "It has jus' been Gawd-awful, like you would not believe! But I do not want ta tawlk about it whar Jeb can hear."

    "Oh, I understand. My husband is outside - maybe he could watch Jeb while we talk."

   "I don't keer to trouble him..."

  "It's no trouble - he is just standing out there."

    "Well, are ya sure it wouldn't be no trouble?"

   "Of course - let me go ask him!"

   Pete of course agreed to watch Jeb, who was happy to have more space for skateboarding, and I watched back into God's Extended Hand.

16th and Island - Chapter 4 - Operation Hope (Part Three)

This is a true story about a homeless family we met at Christmas. Some of the names have been changed.

       I was smiling as though we had just won the lottery.
       Pete and I walked as quickly we could around the corner. We both breathed a huge sigh of relief when we saw Susan's red suburban, even though Susan and Jeb were nowhere in sight.  A very clean homeless man, about 5'7" with striking grey eyes, was sitting in front of the suburban, eating a breakfast of eggs and toast in a styrofoam container. The only give away that he was homeless was his camp set out on the sidewalk.
        I introduced Pete and myself to the man, whose name was Charles, and asked "We wanted to check up on some friends we met the other night, and this looks like their car? Have you seen a middle aged lady and a little boy, about eight years old? They have a strong southern accent."
        "Oh yeah - I know them! I've been looking after them, keeping them safe," Charles replied. 
        "Thanks for taking care of them. We want to try to help them," I replied.
         "Yeah, of course. They are good people. They are in the church around the corner eating breakfast, if you want to go talk to them" Charles grinned. I noticed he had all of his teeth.
         "Hey, thanks so much Charles. You are a good man," Pete said, shaking his hand. 
We walked back to the corner of 16th and Island where the church was, and waited outside for Susan and Jeb. I noticed that the church walls were covered with fascinating mosaic designs, like this one of Jesus holding a lamb:

and this one of the devil coming after another lamb:



         Five minutes passed. I prayed that Susan would listen to what we had to say. We could see the first group we had met that morning were still standing in the same corner,  carrying themselves like they were the jocks and cheerleaders of the homeless world. About twenty or so homeless people were sitting or standing against the walls of the church. The paramedics came for an elderly man in a wheel- chair who was apparently having heart-trouble.

       Ten minutes passed - I paced back and forth and blew on my hands to fight the cold. I prayed that God would give me the courage to be up-front with Susan about what a scary place this was for a little boy like Jeb to be living. A thirty-something homeless woman, who looked like she hadn't showered in a week, was yelling to a homeless man a few yards away from us. "I have two degrees - I just can't find any work in San Diego."  She began crossing the street, and I noticed she wasn't wearing any shoes, just socks. "I used to make a lot of money - phew, I was a high roller - I'm sure I made more than you ever did," she yelled back to man, standing in her socks in the middle of the street as cars honked at her. "Get out of the street, and get some shoes!" was his retort. She crossed the street, and continued yelling across it about her two degrees, while the man she was yelling to just ignored her.  

      Fifteen minutes passed - the smell of booze and urine was becoming overwhelming. "Pete, do you think I can just go in and see if they are there?"

      "Sure, why not?"

      We asked a volunteer where they served breakfast, that we had a friend we wanted to talk to, and he showed us the front entrance. I peeked inside, and saw Susan and Jeb sitting at a table at the back of the room. "I think I should go in and talk to her Pete. I think she needs to be handled gently. Pray that God will give me the right words."

      "You're right - I'll stay out here and watch our car."

      I squeezed Pete's hand, and walked into God's Extended Hand.

16th and Island - Chapter 4 - Operation Hope (Part Two)

This is a true story - some of the names have been changed.

          “After all this, all our fighting, and praying, and hoping, I can’t believe they aren’t even here!” I exclaimed in frustration. “Well, I hope they are ok.”                                                                             

           “Pretty ironic,” Pete laughed.

           "Well, we may as well not waste a trip down here. Why don't we pass out the rest of the water bottles in our trunk?"

           "We may as well," Pete shrugged. 
            We approached a group of four people at the corner a few hundred yards from where we had met Susan and Jeb. A homeless women, crouched on the ground against the wall, looked as wrinkled and worn as a seventy year old who had done hard labor her whole life, but I guessed she was no older than fifty. What is her story? I wondered. An attractive Asain woman, about twenty-five, was hanging on a tall, handsome man who kept taking swigs of whiskey out of a bottle hid in his black leather jacket. I hope he's not her pimp. A middle-aged homeless man, not nearly as well dressed or as clean, was yelling out his life story to them.
          "I've been homeless thirteen years. Been a drunk most of that time, but I got clean for a while when this one family let me live with them for a few months.. . "
         "Man, you are so f----ing stupid. Never admit you've been homeless that long. Say you've been homeless for three weeks!" said the man in the black leather jacket. The young girl cackled loudly.
         I squeezed Pete's hand, and he asked, "Are you guys thirsty?"
         The man in the leather jacket said, "That's all you got? Water! You think we want water! You must be some kind of crazy!" The young girl again cackled loudly, slapping her knees.
         "I'm thirsty" said one of the older women. She smiled and I noticed that her lips were deeply cracked and most of her teeth were missing. We give her a gallon of water, and the socks I had intended for Susan.
          "Oh look, Pete - there's Bob - their friend we met the other night. Let's go see if he has any information." I was relieved to move on.
         "Good idea - we can give him this other jug of water ..... Hi Bob," Pete held out his hand, "do you remember us from the other night? I'm Pete, and this is my wife . . ."
         "Oh sure, I remember you two." Bob took off his dirty blue baseball cap to scratch his head matted with curly gray hair. "I've made a lot of progress on my van, I think it is almost fixed."
        "Oh very cool. Hey do you want some water?"
        "Yeah, that would be fantastic. It's been warm working under that hood."
        "We were wondering if you knew anything about Susan and Jeb - the lady and little boy you were guarding the other night?"
       "Oh yeah, yeah. We moved their car around the corner because some nut kept yelling at them the other night. Just around the block, you will see them."
       "Awesome, thanks man." Pete shook his hand.
       "That's my bad hand - hurt it in 'Nam!"
       "Oh, I am so sorry!" Pete apologized. 
       I was smiling as if we had just won the lottery.

16th and Island - Chapter 4 - Operation Hope (Part One)

This is a true story about a homeless family Pete and I met this Christmas. Some of the names have been changed.

   

    We woke up early for a Saturday morning- at 8 a.m, that is. I called the shelter in Vista, “Operation Hope”, praying, Please let there be room in the inn! The lady I spoke to, Tanya, said they did have an opening, and that it was a perfect place for a mother and children as only women and families with children were allowed, and there was a school and job training. As long as she was could pass a drug test, there would be no problem in admitting them that evening. I assured her that Susan was not on drugs. She said to have Susan call the shelter’s supervisor, Russ, and ask any questions she might have.

 Thank you Lord! I started dancing around the room. Pete, who had heard the conversation on my battered cell phone which only worked on speaker phone, grabbed me and kissed me. “That is such a relief! We can go talk to them this morning, and I can drive them up there before work. I don’t have to be there until 2:30. I don’t want you to have to drive them to Vista by yourself when we’ve been having so much car trouble lately,” Pete said.

“God is so good! We should probably go now, don't you think, so there will be enough time? You don't mind not having bacon and eggs this morning like I promised, do you?"

"No, there's no time to worry about that today, my Angel. We should just grab some cereal and  go" 

 "But wait - I just thought of something – what if she doesn’t want to leave her car in downtown and go all the way to Vista? I would, if it meant somewhere for me and my little boy to sleep, but she may not feel that way.” I replied.

“Good point. We could use the money that we were going to use on a hotel to tow her car somewhere safe.”

“That’s true – we could do that! Your brilliant! But wait – I just thought of something else. What if she doesn’t trust us enough to drive her and her son all the way to Vista? I mean, she could think we were trying to kidnap her or something.”

“Yeah, good point. Well, we can make the offer – the decision will be up to her.”

“I guess we will have to try to win her over like we did the women who were going to have abortions when we used to go sidewalk counseling. I should probably be the one to talk to her – she might respond better to a woman. And we should write her a note with my cell phone number and the number of the shelter in Vista, with some change, to leave on her car in case she isn’t there.”

“Well, let’s pray.’ Pete grabbed my hands. “Dear Father, please let us be able to find Susan and Jeb, and let Susan want to go to Vista so she and Jeb can be off the street.”

“And Lord, please give us wisdom in what to say, and help me be gentle and sensitive so that I can convince her that she should take the placement in Vista and not stay living in their car. In Jesus name, Amen”.

I wrote the note explaining the shelter in Vista and wrapped some quarters in a pair of socks to leave on her dashboard so she would be able to call us and the shelter while Pete checked the oil in the car and got the number for a tow company near 16^th and Island.

The drive downtown, which was only 20 minutes, seemed like 3 hours. I kept rehearsing in my head what I would say to her, praying repeatedly for God to give me the right words. When we got to the corner of 16^th and Island, my heart sank. Their red suburban was gone.           
“After all this, all our fighting, and praying, and hoping, I can’t believe they aren’t even here!” I exclaimed in frustration. “Well, I hope they are ok.”

“Pretty ironic,” Pete laughed.

16th and Island – Chapter 3 - Somewhere Else at a Mandatory Party (Part 3)

This is a true story - some names have been changed. This post is a day late, but I've had bronchitus!

Mona was waiting for us out in front of the Lower Campus Chapel. She showed us our seats, and while waiting for dinner to be served, we made small talk with professors and staff members who had worked at the college when we were both students ten years ago.  I managed to accidentally (not knowing who I was talking to) complement the school’s president wife on her ballet-style shoes. Pete whispered to me who she was afterwards. So far, so good! No one can tell we had just been fighting.  

Sitting at the table with Mona and her other guests, my thoughts kept wandering to Jeb, and I tried to focus on chit-chatting with her and her interesting menagerie of friends she had invited. Mona was the type of lady who knew all her friends and neighbors, and their children and pets as well, by name.  Normally, I would have been delighted to talk to her ninety –year old neighbor who loved cats, the middle age woman whose husband couldn’t be there because he was busy running his Italian restaurant, and the older couple who used to be missionaries in Mexico City. I picked at the mashed potatoes and rosemary green beans, which were objectively quite delicious, and discretely gave Pete most of my rib-eye steak and chocolate cake roll. I wonder if Jeb and Susan have any food to eat tonight! How can we just sit here enjoying ourselves when there are starving children in our own city? But my answer to Mona’s missionary friends who asked, “Isn’t this food just wonderful?” was “Yes, the rosemary green beans are to die for”. I feel so alone in this crowded room.

After dinner, the students performed various modern worship songs along with some classical Christmas music. Vision, the school’s traveling singing group, sang the hauntingly melancholy song about Mary the mother of Jesus, “Breathe of Heaven”. I choked back tears at the lines “Breathe of Heaven, Hold me Together, Be Forever Near Me, Breathe of Heaven. Breathe of Heaven, Lighten my darkness, Pour over me your Holiness, for You are forever Holy” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qgVBPsYVljM. Hold me together and help me trust in You to lead Pete to make the right decision, like Steve always is trying to tell me.

            As soon as we got home, I breathed a sigh of relief from not having to pretend anymore. “Pete, what if there isn’t an opening at the shelter tomorrow? What do we do then? Can you at least pray about considering letting them stay here a few nights until we figure something out?”

            “And what would we do with them after a few days? Dump them back on the street? I still don’t think it is a good idea for them to stay with us – we don’t know why they are homeless. . .”

            “Yes we do! Susan told us – they came out here looking for work, and they were robbed, and the government is taking its sweet time to help them!” I interrupted. “Why do you have to be so cynical?” I stopped myself. “But I’ll let you make the final decision about all of this.”

            “How can I make the final decision if I know that my decision will make you really mad at me? And that we might be fighting about it until Christmas?! We haven’t disagreed so strongly about something in a really long time!” Pete sounded almost frantic.

            Which is why it is almost impossible to let you make this final decision! But I have to trust God.  “Okay, you’re right, I might be a little mad at first, just because I can’t stand the thought of them being on the streets. But I’ll get over it long before Christmas. Whatever decision you make, just make sure you really are seeking God about it, though.” Pete looked visibly relieved.

            “Thanks babe, I can actually think now. I will pray about it. You know what we could do,” Pete sounded excited, “we could pay for them to be in a hotel room for a few nights!”

            “I guess we could! You wouldn’t mind spending the money? We could afford it – it would mean putting off paying down our medical debt until February, but a little boy’s life is more important!”

            “No, I don’t mind the money at all – I thought you wouldn’t want to spend it!”

            “Oh thank God, maybe that is our answer if the shelter doesn’t have an opening!”

             I looked for several hours online trying to find a decent hotel or motel or hostel that they could stay in a few nights. Anything under 50$ a night had terrible reviews, like the Pacific Coast Motel. “Bed bugs ate me up all night – would never consider going there again.” The San Diego Hostel said, “Kids are welcome, but people are up all night partying and they may not feel comfortable.”

            “This idea is just not working Pete. We can only afford to get them off the street into a decent place for only night or two, or we can put them up in a place almost as bad as the streets for a three or four nights. I think there must be a better way we can spend our money to help them more in the long run.”

            But it was midnight, so we agreed to sleep on it and pray that the shelter from Vista had an opening.

16th and Island – Chapter 3 - Somewhere Else at a Mandatory Party (Part 2)

This is a true story about a homeless Pete and I met this Christmas. Some names have been changed.
    
            “Hey babe – how was your day?” I tried to not look too preoccupied.

“Good, just busy with the Christmas rush,” said Pete yawning.

“Oh – here’s a fried egg sandwich,” I said sighing.

“What’s wrong? You seem upset?” Pete put his arms around me.

I pushed them off, and started pacing. “I’m just so worried about Jeb and Susan. They just can’t stay living in their car. It’s winter, so all the shelters are probably full. All I can think to do is let them stay here until there is an opening somewhere, but I know you will never agree!” My arms were flailing like an Italian.

“Well, I don’t think that letting them stay here is a good idea. We don’t know anything about Susan. She may be on drugs. She may do something to get us evicted, and then we would be homeless.” Pete yawned again.

“But she seems like such a nice lady- she’s clean, Jeb is well-behaved, she says she is a Christian, and she’s even from a small town from North Carolina! And they were robbed, so it’s not their fault they are homeless. She realizes she was too trusting of the guy she came out with. But most importantly, we CAN’T leave that little boy on the street – he doesn’t belong there!” I was pacing faster and with larger arm flailings.

“We don’t know if she is telling the truth or not – just because she is from North Carolina doesn’t make her Aunt Bee. It’s not a good idea.  We can go down there tomorrow to see them and bring them food or something, but we have to talk through it before doing anything rash,” Pete said in an exasperatingly calm, Spock-like tone.

I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck start to rise. “By talking through it, you mean you will tell me all the reasons you are right and I am wrong, until I finally agree with you!” I snapped. “I’m sorry, I’m just so worried about that little boy – you know as well as I do the horrible things that could happen to him on the street. Why don’t you take a nap, and I’ll go for a walk? I don’t want to fight.”

I put my new tennis shoes on and began walking very quickly, not knowing where I was going, but desperately needing to move. I ended up walking a mile down the road to Curves, where my secret sister Marie had given me a month’s free membership. I worked out so hard on the machines that the lady in charge said I was “very strong for a beginner”. While walking back, I took a longer route and prayed. Please God, help Pete and I figure out some sort of compromise. I just can’t give that little boy some food and leave him on the streets – that’s just not acceptable!

When I got back, Pete was on the internet. “I’ve been calling around different homeless shelters, and most of them are full, but there is a possible opening for a family shelter in Vista. The guy will call me tomorrow morning if they have an opening, and we can drive them there tomorrow before I go to work in the afternoon.”

 “Thank you Pete! You are the best. Sorry I got so agitated earlier,” I kissed him on the head. I had forty-five minutes to shower and dress for the banquet at the college. I picked out a satin black and red skirt with a chiffon blouse. I tried to put aside my worries about whether there would be an opening tomorrow and put on my best supportive wife “so happy to see you face.” This is the party I have been looking forward to most this Christmas, after all. It will be great to see Mona again. Mona, who had invited us, was one of the college librarians, and an old friend who had listened to me talk for hours about Pete before we were dating. It would be fun to be her guests as an “old married couple”.  

16th and Island – Somewhere Else at a Mandatory Party (Part Four)

This is a true story about a homeless family Pete and I know. Some of the names have been changed

Friday morning, I woke thinking about Jeb’s sweet brown eyes and how grateful he was for some water and a pair of woman’s gloves. I thought of the way that he was playing with that red foxish looking dog, smiling as sunnily as if he were Jeff Miller playing with his dog Lassie, not a child living in his car who happened to know a homeless man with a mutt.  Tears had evaded me the night before, but they came in full force now.

            “What do we do about Susan and Jeb? That child does not belong on 16^th and Island!” I said aloud, partly to myself, partly to God. (Pete was already gone – he had dragged his tired, hardworking body to open Starbucks at 4 am. Besides teaching adjunct Bible classes at two different colleges, he worked thirty hour weeks at Starbucks so I could work part-time and concentrate on trying to overcome infertility.)  I wiped my eyes, blew my nose and tried to start my day.

Of course the first logical thing to do was to call my best friend Beth. I told her about Susan and Jeb and how I woke up thinking about them, and her wise advice was to distract myself. So I made grand plans for the day  to spend time in God’s Word and in prayer, decorate the Christmas tree, deep clean for the party we were having for Pete’s discipleship class the following Wednesday, primp for the banquet at the college that evening, and send off our remaining Christmas cards. I opened the bookmark in my Bible to my place in 2 Corinthians chapter 8, the same passage we were going through in church that Sunday. It was about the poverty-stricken Macedonian church’s sacrificial giving. “Okay God, so what are you saying? How can we afford to get them off the street? How will we meet our goal to pay off all our medical debt this year? Even if we could afford it, how do we go about it? I don’t even know where to start!” I prayed aloud.

Before Pete got home at noon, all I had managed to distract myself with was calligraphying the addresses on three Christmas cards, doing the dishes, and cooking Pete a fried-egg sandwich for lunch. I had spent the rest of the time posting on facebook asking prayer for Susan and Jeb, and  imaging Susan and Jeb to be some modern day Joab family from of the Grapes of Wrath. The similarities are eerie – even down to the way they came from a small town to California looking for work, only to be cruelly let down. I’m sure they wouldn’t be sleeping in their car if they had a better option – I bet all the shelters are full. Maybe we should let them stay with us for a few days until we find them an opening somewhere. But Pete will never go for that – not after what happened with Wanda’s family. And I need to let him take a nap before bombarding him with all of this! Two months before, a schizophrenic lady Marlene who attends our church had been brainwashed by an insane homeless Jehovah Witness man. Marlene had to be hospitalized after a complete nervous breakdown. This homeless man, who was considered cultic by even mainstream Jehovah Witnesses, had been invited to live with Wanda’s family by her daughter’s boyfriend.  I had been discipling Marlene, trying to undo some of the spiritual deception that this evil man had inflicted on her fragile mind. (But that is another story!)

Stay tuned next Monday for the continuation of "16th and Island- Somewhere Else at a Mandatory Party" 

16th and Island - Mayberry meets San Diego (Part Three)

I’ve read about street kids before, and even seen a few, but never on 16^th and Island! They don’t belong here!

The mom and son were standing in front of  a new-looking red suburban parked on the curb – I noticed it was cleaner than our car. There were several homeless men camping nearby, including one man in a sleeping bag in front of the car. He had a small red dog that looked like a fox. The little boy, who was playing with the dog, looked as happy as any eight year old boy playing with a dog.

One of the youth group kids, Isaiah, offered them two paper bags with peanut butter sandwiches.

“Oh we like peanut butter, don’t we Jeb?,” she said. Her accent took me aback. It reminded me of a PBS documentary I had recently watched about Appalachian mining.

We introduced our little group.  “Hi, my name is Susan, and this here is my son Jeb,” she replied.

“Nice to meet you Jeb.” He grinned shyly back at us – his teeth were remarkably clean.

“Jeb, would you like some gloves? You look cold,” Alex’s mom Monica asked.

“Well, I sho’ would. Thank ya!” Jeb’s eyes lit up, as Monica took off her multi-colored cashmere gloves and handed them to him.

“Does he need anything else?” Monica asked.

Susan replied, “Well, he could sure use some britches. He’s a size eight.”

“My youngest is a size ten. He may have some pants that will fit Jeb,” Monica replied.

“Well, I sure would be obliged to ya” replied Susan.

“Pete, give them some extra water bottles,” I said.

Pete gave them two or three bottles. “No, more than that! The little boy needs to stay hydrated!” The man with the dog chuckled. “Why don’t you go get the gallon from the trunk, and the fleece Yoda blanket?” One of the kids I used to nanny, Connor, had given Pete a fleece blanket with Yoda on it. We kept it in the trunk for emergencies.

“This may seem like a crazy question, but are you from the Appalachians?” I asked Susan.

“Ap-pa-lay-sha! Shoo, No!  I am from the big city. I’m from Charlette, North Carolina. I am educated, not like those folk up in those mountains”. She sounded offended.

I  lied. “Well, I have family that comes from there – your accent sounded familiar”. My dad’s parents had grown up on farms in Tennessee, but I had no idea if they had qualified as “Appalachian”.

She appeared less bristled.  “So you know what it is like back South.”

“Yeah. So are you guys all together?” I asked, referring to the man laying in the sleeping bag.

“Oh no – this man here, Bob, he’s just stickin’ by us, for protection like, you see. You can’t imagine the harassment a woman and child can get bein’ out here.”

“It must be awful. So how long have you been in San Diego?”
            “About a month. I declare, you wouldn’t believe what we’ve done been  through since comin’ out here. A man, a really hoity-toity yuppy type, he comes by here the other day, and he says to me, real snob-like, ‘So you’re homeless are you?’ Well, I was raised  to take up for myself, and I says to him, ‘Yes, we are homeless, but it ain’t our fault. And it ain’t a lot of these people’s faults. Don’t you go judgin’ us all to be alcoholics or something!' Now I want you to know I don't have a drug problem or an alcohol problem. I was raised in a good Christian home.  I have a bad choice of men problem, but I've sure learned my lesson.” replied Susan.

“So what happened to you guys? ” I queried.

“Well we have had nothin’ but hard times since we come out here. First, the guy we come out here with, Austin, he goes and takes off with all my money. Then the car, it breaks down and I can’t get it fixed cause I got no money. And then, I’ve been fixin’ to get on Calworks so me and my boy can get food stamps, but the system out here, it moves as slow as molasses.”

            “So are you still with the man who stole from you?”

            “Are you kiddin’? He’s long gone – he’s down in Tijuana, doin’ God knows what.”

            “Well, I'm glad he is out of the picture anyways. Why don’t you talk to my friend Kimberly here? She works in social services – she may be able to help give you some tips about how to get your Calworks case working faster.”

            “Well I sure do appreciate it.” Kimberly gave her some numbers she could call, and told her to keep hounding the social workers until they gave her what she needed.

           Pete returned with the water and blanket. Susan remarked to Pete, "Thank ya - we sure are obliged. You look a lot like someone on the T.V. I can't think who - oh now I know - you look like John boy Walton!" 
         One of the college students, Shawn, was praying with a homeless man a few yards away. Another homeless man, who was lying down in a make-shift bed with a dirty pillow over his head, yelled, “Can’t you people see I am trying to sleep? I have to get up early, and you ­­____  ________ need to shut the ­­_____ up!”

            Susan yelled back, “ Stop that ruckus! Don’t you see these are good people? They are prayin’ for us! You have no right to yell at them like that, these be good Christian people!”

            Monica, visibly shaken with tears in her eyes, pleaded, “Can we please go? It’s freezing!”

            Pete nodded, “Yeah, let’s go.”

            “It was nice to meet you Susan, Jeb. We will be praying for you guys!” I said.

            That night I laid awake, thanking God for our warm bed and our one-bedroom flat which, as Pete described, seemed "like a mansion”.  We can't just pray for that Mom and little boy and leave them living in their car, while we live in comparative luxury!

16th and Island - Peanut Butter Contempt, Part 2

The following day, I woke up wanting to curse because of God’s curse on Eve. After spending the morning chasing preschoolers and then walking four miles with my faithful and amazing exercise buddy and co-worker Jennifer (who has three children and a husband and teaches preschool and volunteers at her son’s school and teaches Sunday school but still has energy leftover to charge up steep hills while carrying on a full conversation), I was exhausted.               

By the time we went over to our pastor Steve’s house (he hates being called “pastor”-  our church believes in plurality of elders and he is a “teaching elder”- but it sounds so strange to say “teaching elder” in a story) to assemble paper bags with the youth group to hand out to the homeless, I was in the same frame of mind as Albert Finney’s Scrooge. I was very disconcerted that we were running behind schedule in assembling the bags. Not because, as I told Pete privately, “It is rude for us to be late meeting up with the kids from the college”, but because I wanted to go to bed. So I sped things up by setting up stations - one teenager filling bags with water bottles, the next with peanut butter sandwiches, the next with cookies, etc. Actually, all that was accomplished was organized chaos, with thirty paper bags having just water bottles but no sandwiches, some bags with two sandwiches,  and some sandwiches in plastic bags because we “ran out” of paper bags.  

            We left for downtown about 15 minutes behind schedule, and met at corner of 16^th and Island. The enthusiasm of the teens, who had brought along their parents, younger siblings, friends, and friends parents, to serve the homeless, was slightly convicted.  Especially the enthusiasm of  Alex, who claims to not be a believer but was partly responsible for us being there because of his persistant question over the last year, “So when is our youth group going to feed the homeless?” Steve gave us instructions to go in groups, make sure no girls especially walked alone, and to not just pass out sandwiches but to really talk to people and share Christ’s love with them. I felt more conviction, but ignored it.

The number of homeless people struck me. Eleven years ago, when our college’s homeless ministry team came down to this same area, there were half as many people, or even less. And I didn’t remember there being so many women. The smell of urine, feces, and alcohol was strong.

 The first man we asked, “Do you want some food?” replied, “No, no food – got any clothes?”  He was wearing a rather nice jacket and designer looking jeans. He looks better dressed than Pete! The gall! I fumed.

We passed out bags very quickly, most people grateful to get something to eat. But one man, standing next to his girlfriend and their two shopping carts, asked “Are they peanut butter sandwiches? I don’t want NO peanut butter!” he said angrily. What do you want, T-bone steak and shrimp? Your homeless! I fumed more. I said in my fake sweetest voice, ‘But they have homemade marmalade on them!” The man yelled back, “No! You guys always come down here with peanut butter! I want something good…” His girlfriend interrupted, “Homemade marmalade! He’s just crazy. I’ll take his.”

            We passed out almost one hundred and fifty bags walking around two city blocks. Having run out of food, we began passing out water bottles. We were almost out of water bottles when we came to clean, nicely dressed middle age woman and her son, who looked like an eight year old version of Opie Taylor from the Andy Griffith show. I’ve read about homeless kids before, and even seen a few, but never on 16^th and Island! They don’t belong here!

16th and Island - Peanut Butter Contempt, Part 1

(These posts may be shocking but they are honest).

      It was Wednesday, December 1st. Only 24 days more until Christmas. This will be the best Christmas we have had in a while. First time in years we can afford to send Christmas presents to all 20 kids in our families. Thanks God, I thought. All the presents were ordered online. We could even afford to mail them early this year, once they came! Plus the Christmas party for Pete's Biblical Discipleship class was coming up next week. I was planning on making lots of spaghetti -spaghetti with meatballs, spaghetti with Italian sausage, vegetable spaghetti, and gluten free spaghetti. We'd even already bought our Christmas tree from the boy scout lot; we just needed to decorate it. Last year we bought our tree a week before Christmas, after a fight about how we would pay the rent. 
         "The only thing bad about this month, babe," I told Pete as we sat making peanut butter sandwiches to pass out to the homeless with our churches youth group the following night, "is I have so many parties to go to. I like throwing parties, but I hate going to them! How can I stay on my diet if I am surrounded by constant temptation? And so many of them are almost mandatory. I hate mandatory parties!" I complained as I tried not to taste my homemade marmalade leftover from Thanksgiving that we were spreading on the sandwiches.
   "I hate mandatory parties too! And I hate all the craziness at Starbucks right now. In fact," Pete teased, "I hate people!"
         "Why are you getting online right now? We have a lot more sandwiches to make!", I whined, smearing off-brand peanut butter onto Texas Toast bought at the 99 cent store.
    "Listen to this babe. This will get you into the Christmas Spirit." Pete played "I Hate People" from Albert Finney's "Scrooge". Pete began singing along,
 "Perpetrating evil as they roam the earth in hoardes,
Feeding on their fellow men, reaping rich rewards,
Contaminating everything they see,
Corrupting honest men like me! I hate people, I HATE people!"
     I started laughing. "But what about the homeless? Do don't hate them do you?"
     "I despise them, I abhor them," Pete croned, quoting more Finney.
             "Pete!!" I chastised, "stop! That's not funny!" I couldn't stop laughing.
     Pete's response was to give me his, "I know I am obnoxious, but you have to admit I am hilarious" look. Then he wrote the word "Contempt" on the peanut butter he was spreading.
          "Pete, you are so horrible!" I protested, tears coming into my eyes from laughing so hard.
    "But at least I can still make you laugh," was his wicked grinning response.