Imagine you are suddenly homeless......

The Homeless Illustrate a Growing Divide...
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In Silicon Valley, the Homeless Illustrate a Growing Divide
November 07, 2017 — In the same affluent, suburban city where Google built its headquarters, Tes Saldana lives in a crowded but tidy camper she parks on the street.
She concedes it's “not a very nice living situation,” but it also is not unusual. Until authorities told them to move, more than a dozen other RVs filled with people who can't afford rent joined Saldana on a tree-lined street in Mountain View, parked between a Target and a luxury apartment complex. Homeless advocates and city officials say it's outrageous that in the shadow of a booming tech economy - where young millionaires dine on $15 wood-grilled avocado and think nothing of paying $1,000 for an iPhone X - thousands of families can't afford a home. Many of the homeless work regular jobs, in some cases serving the very people whose sky-high net worth is the reason housing has become unaffordable for so many.

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A group of homeless people, including Ellen Tara James-Penney (wearing blue) left, a lecturer at San Jose State University, receive a meal at Grace Baptist Church in San Jose, California​

Across the street from Saldana's camper, for example, two-bedroom units in the apartment complex start at $3,840, including concierge service. That's more than she brings home, even in a good month. Saldana and her three adult sons, who live with her, have looked for less rustic accommodations, but rents are $3,000 a month or more, and most of the available housing is distant. She said it makes more sense to stay in the camper near their jobs and try to save for a brighter future, even if a recent city crackdown chased them from their parking spot. “We still need to eat,” said Saldana, 51. “I still want to bring my kids, once in a while, to a movie, to eat out.”

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People ride colorful bikes on the Google campus in Mountain View, California​

She cooks and serves food at two hotels in nearby Palo Alto, jobs that keep her going most days from 5 in the morning until 10 at night. Two of her sons, all in their 20s, work at a bakery and pay $700 toward the RV each month. They're all very much aware of the economic disparity in Silicon Valley. “How about for us people who are serving these tech people?” Saldana said. “We don't get the same paycheck that they do.” It's all part of a growing crisis along the West Coast, where many cities and counties have seen a surge in the number of people living on the streets over the past two years. Counts taken earlier this year show 168,000 homeless people in California, Oregon and Washington - 20,000 more than were counted just two years ago.

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Paige Clem sits in the car she lives in along with her husband and three dogs outside a church where free food was being distributed in Everett, Washington​

The booming economy, fueled by the tech sector, and decades of under-building have led to an historic shortage of affordable housing. It has upended the stereotypical view of people out on the streets as unemployed: They are retail clerks, plumbers, janitors - even teachers - who go to work, sleep where they can and buy gym memberships for a place to shower. The surge in homelessness has prompted at least 10 local governments along the West Coast to declare states of emergency, and cities from San Diego to Seattle are struggling to come up with immediate and long-range solutions. San Francisco is well-known for homeless tent encampments. But the homeless problem has now spread throughout Silicon Valley, where the disparity between the rich and everyone else is glaring.

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In California they live in tent colonies in the river and creek forests.

They steal anything and everything not guarded to make money for dope.
Yer an idiot. And there but the grace of God goes you.
Gracie you are the idiota (Greek word).

And oh by the way you can stay with Bonzi and me too.

You would need to share the bed with us and the cat.
 
Here goes. I will probably regret this...but maybe its time to just say it all in one post.

I became homeless because I trusted someone. Big mistake and I should have known better. I was managing an apartment complex for 17 years and when the owner died, I rented a house because the family of the guy I worked for all those years slapped a for sale sign on it 3 days after his funeral. I rented the home from a friend. Being in property management, I should have gone by the book, but I didn't. That was my major mistake. It was all verbal and no deposit paid since he said "not amongst friends". He told us the home would be ours for as long as we wanted it. Like a life estate. He said he would never ask us to move. So for 12 years, we poured our money into the home we thought was ours until we both died in it because that is what he said BEFORE we even moved in it. 12 years 9 months later...from it being a 2 bedroom turned into a 4 bedroom, landscaping, maintenance performed on it, new fencing, carpeting after a few years, new linoleum, replacing stoves, fridges, washer and dryer and in general treating it as our forever home and none of it not costing him a dime, he said he wanted his house back. Of course he did. It was valued twice as what it used to be due to the improvements WE made to it. So yeah. He wanted it back. It's his house...verbal contract...no way to fight it even if I wanted to which I didn't. HIS house. Not mine. On paper anyway.

So we tried to find another place to rent within the 60 day notice he gave us. We had 2 dogs. One was 11. The other almost 11. We could not find anything we could afford with our SS checks. Not in that location we called home for 30 years. So we sold everything we owned. EVERYTHING. I cried as I watched people walk away from the moving sale we had. Everything I loved and owned. Being carried away. Only thing I kept was what would fit in my van and ford ranger truck. And of course my two furkids.

We went south, to the LA area. Friends there that used to live with us when they fell on hard times, said come on down..you can live with us. Turns out you truly find out who true friends are when you are at your lowest. They were not so friendly. One dog died there in Southern California. A week after that, we packed our cars and left and haven't looked back. We left the new fridge we bought because we were told we could not use theirs. We left our beds behind because we had no place to take them. We left most of what we bought when we got there, because the "friends" said if we left those things, they would not hold us to 30 day notice. Fridge was $475 and still under warranty, beds and recliner were new..so add another 500 bucks. That is twice what rent would have been, so we took them up on the offer and left it all behind.

We came back to the coast and went straight to social services. Two seniors, one dog, no place to go. We got the runaround, but figured we would so we went to McDs where we knew the homeless got their coffee and those people told us the lessons we needed to know to survive as homeless people. We also went to churches..who don't practice what they preach. We went to food pantries where they handed out rotten fruit, uncooked chicken (how does a homeless person cook raw chicken???), moldy bread. The sad part is..the people there in line were not homeless. I recognized many of them as fellow business owners or neighbors who lived in nice homes. Yet..free food is free food, yes? They took advantage of that. The sadder part is..when you tell someone you are homeless and are looking for a place to rent...they take 3 steps back like you have leprosy. The physical ramifications of being homeless is as bad as the mental. We stayed clean, compliments of hoses in yards, our veterinary letting us park and sleep at his offices after he closed up and harbor patrol having showers down on the dock for 25 cents for 10 minutes. Laundry mats kept our clothing clean. Our cars had good heaters. Food was at McDs or a deli at the market or Burger King.

We learned to be stealthy. We learned nobody could or would help. We learned its a hard thing to be homeless because to folks, it usually means you are a drug addict or a mental case or in general a lazy ass. You are treated like a pile of dog shit. You are stepped around, not looked at, ignored, and sneered at. And try as you might to keep your spirits up...it is difficult to do. There are no casinos, no malls, no salvation armies, etc that you can hide in at night to get sleep. There are no bathrooms to clean up. You are a bug to avoid. Not human. And there are A LOT of people out there just like us. In our late 60's, early 70's, who trusted someone only to be backstabbed and you made a BAD decision that should not have punished you as badly as you are being punished. You question "why". Your personality changes. You contemplate suicide. But you can't, because of the furkid you have left. So you hang in there. I could aim at my husband..he could aim at me, we count to 3 and fire. Both of us at peace. But..what about the fucking DOG??? We could not off her. We could ourselves, but not her. So...we had to continue on. And we did. She kept us in this world.

I did all I could. All I could possibly do. we spent what little we managed to save on gas, food, a motel once a week just to feel human again, driving to other cities 2 and 3 hours away to look at apartments or rooms for rent, etc. Then we got offered an RV for a temp place until we found someone..anyone..that would rent to two old fogies and an old dog and the RV was located next to the house we thought was our home. Now comes the mental anguish. The place we called home for 30 years. People we knew who turned the other way. The despair. The shrugging from social services, churches, acquaintences. Being totally alone. I cannot describe just how bad it was, watching my husband wither. Begin to literally die in his heart..and his body. The rv was bad. But it was bigger than my van and his truck. And I began to stress more than usual. By this time, 2 months had passed, and I lost 40 lbs. I cried a lot. I stroked my gun a lot. I hugged my dog a lot. I hid from my husband so he would not see me so stressed and stress himself even more. Finally, someone up north offered us a place we could afford..and bring our dog. We got here in February. In june...my last dog died. I lost her. It was a shock. Not expected. She was dead. Gone. The very being that kept us on this earth..was now gone so FAST. And here we are...with a roof, but living in another bad situation.

I have not recovered yet although I can play pretend pretty well. I still hug my pillow at night and pretend it is my dog. I still cry, as I am doing now just typing this. Why why why why why why why. And there is no answer. I survived the breast cancer only to live like this? I lost my furkids. I am too afraid to get another. And here we are..in this house, stuffed in the back, surviving. For what?
So..for those that wonder about being homeless...you just have no clue. Not one iota of a clue. Being homeless because one CHOOSES to be and they are younger and can work if they choose to...that is a different story. The REAL story is...veterans who lost everything, suffer PTSD, were wounded and suffer ailments that stops them from working, they too ask why why why why why. Old people like me..they ask. Sick people..they ask. And there are never any answers. So go ahead and believe as we all did..that someone out there CAN and WILL help. No they won't. You are on your own. And if you die..that is one less homeless person to worry about getting aid.
 
I'd walk into a Sinnagag with a Windex bottle full of warm bacon grease and say "Gimme or I spray"
Then I 'd go buy a new Camaro
 
Now that I depressed myself again...I am off to play pretend some more that I am just fine and all is well.
 
My Real Dad was homeless off and on my entire life until my sister found him dead in a motel in las vegas. Sometimes he lived in a car. I have a lot of memories os spending time with him when he lived in a car as a kid.
 
Some want to be homeless. Some don't.

I don't think he wanted to be but he had mental health trouble and sometimes couldn't function. He was a hairdresser but sometimes a dope dealer too. when he got depressed he couldn't deal with life. It was sad. As a little kid it was pretty depressing to watch.

I am sorry for all you went through, I am glad you didn't kill yourself. :smiliehug:
 
Homelessness is not a joke. Some like to laugh it off. Or not pay much attention to it. Until they unfortunately experience it themselves then they will remember when they laughed.

I just told the basics. There is much much more, but I think I will keep all that to myself.
It's too difficult to write well enough for people to actually FEEL the despair. I can imagine what it would be like for mentally ill folks experiencing it. 100 times worse, I presume.
 
Homelessness is not a joke. Some like to laugh it off. Or not pay much attention to it. Until they unfortunately experience it themselves then they will remember when they laughed.

I just told the basics. There is much much more, but I think I will keep all that to myself.
It's too difficult to write well enough for people to actually FEEL the despair. I can imagine what it would be like for mentally ill folks experiencing it. 100 times worse, I presume.

I can't imagine how you feel. It sucks.
 
An acquaintence of mine from "home" arrived here yesterday. He is staying a week in a motel in Chico, and is looking in this town for a mobile home to purchase. I took him around to some of the parks and I got pretty bummed after looking at one that was selling for only $11,500.00. It was adorable. One bedroom, extended living room, totally cute kitchen, lovely park, space rent $475.00. But, someone bought it that morning.
Alas, if I had known my "friend landlord" was going to burn us, I would have had more than 11k to buy a place for ourselves since we poured that much and more into his fucking house.
 
An acquaintence of mine from "home" arrived here yesterday. He is staying a week in a motel in Chico, and is looking in this town for a mobile home to purchase. I took him around to some of the parks and I got pretty bummed after looking at one that was selling for only $11,500.00. It was adorable. One bedroom, extended living room, totally cute kitchen, lovely park, space rent $475.00. But, someone bought it that morning.
Alas, if I had known my "friend landlord" was going to burn us, I would have had more than 11k to buy a place for ourselves since we poured that much and more into his fucking house.

Do you think your friend will move there?
 
If he finds a place, he will. He wants a dinky 1 bedroom big enough for himself and his poodle.
 
No. It won't. I can handle him for a couple of hours only. But, I said I would assist in his search, so I did and will. But I don't want to be his babysitter either.
 
I have known him a very long time. Fellow antique dealer. But I would not consider him "friend". More like acquaintance. Same with him towards me.
 

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