Blessed Are the Poor · The Final Issue

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BLESSED ARE
THE POOR

THE FINAL ISSUE

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Speak Up is written and distributed
by people facing homelessness.

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CONTENTS

4 EDITOR NOTES Matt Shaw

6 A LONG NIGHT Mark Gansert

8 ON AND OFF THE STREETS Troy Burtnick

10 THINGS WE DO NOT SAY Renee Rop

14 NO IDEA WHY Edward Smalls

16 I’M NOT BITTER Ava Roseboro

18 THINK BETTER Angel Williams

20 A GOOD RIDE David Alan Goldberg

22 ONE WEEK ON THE STREETS Vince Shumate

34 JUNKYARD ANGELS Dustin LaPres

40 DESPERATE TO GET CLEAN Matt Hoffman

45 GIVE A VOICE Empowerment

46 LANA ARTICLE Lana Shaw

48 HALL OF FAME Speak Up

50 GIVE OPPORTUNITY Opportunity

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EDITOR NOTES

By Matt Shaw

“In my left hand was a cardboard
sign that read ‘Truth’ with an olive
branch drawn beneath the greeting.
The thumb of my right hand pointed
toward the western horizon serrat
ed with scotch pine trees.” So wrote
David Alan Goldberg as he reflected
on hitchhiking homeless across the
country.
The words in this magazine are
truthful, sharpening, and strengthen
ing. It is full of wisdom, integrity, and
humility.
It would be foolish to think that
experiencing homelessness by default
“It was the reality of poverty upon makes one a wise person. But suffering
poverty.” Those words were written by can sometimes lead to a settled wisdom
Angel Williams as he reflected on the and sober insights that can only be
barrenness of his homeless situation gained by experience. Such is the case
coupled with the negativity of his of the essays in this issue.
thought life. From me personally: this has been
“Make a gratitude list when you are an uneasy season. I’ve struggled in lots
feeling sad or depressed. Your whole of different ways. Many have. A special
outlook on life will improve. Don’t take encouragement came this week as I
my word for it; try it just once, and assembled this issue. Spending time
you’ll see for yourself.” Vince Shumate with these folks through their writing
wrote this as he wrote about trying to has refreshed me in unexpected ways.
stay sober while homeless. I needed Angel Williams to chal

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lenge that my thought life was slipping Next, an opportunity for you to
toward poverty. (It was.) I needed bring transformation to someone in
Vince to advise me on making a grat your city or region:
itude list. (I did.) Elsewhere I needed You can give the gift of Speak Up to
to read that “my past is not my poten that familiar panhandler you see on the
tial.” I needed to be reminded of life’s sidewalk or out your car window, no
“greatest lesson” by Dustin. I needed matter where you live. Previously only
a few minutes with Mark and his individuals in Charlotte, NC, (and for
faithful dog. I needed to see Goldberg a couple years in Michigan) were able
thumbing a ride on a lonely American to take advantage of the Speak Up op
highway, holding up a “Truth” sign for portunity: sell magazines, keep the money
all to see. from each sale, and work your way out of
I needed those reminders that things homelessness.
could be worse. And that they will But now we are offering Start Packs,
probably get better. easy kits that equip anyone anywhere
The following essays and stories to begin selling subscriptions to Speak
are genuine and unvarnished. They are Up Online immediately.
written with skill, but without pretense. The key is inspired readers who want
More often than not, they are hopeful, to help a homeless person in your area
inspiring, and illuminating. get out of poverty, gain dignity, and
To the writers: thank you for build positive community.
entrusting us—and me—with your Go to start.speakupmag.com and
memories, thoughts, and hearts. We are request a kit and bring them.
better for it.
We published the first issue of
Two new things: Speak Up nine years ago. Hundreds
First, Speak Up is online. Finally! of people have sold the magazine and
Until now the magazine has only been earned money to get off the streets.
available in printed form, purchased Many dozens of writers. Tens of thou
directly from a homeless vendor. You sands of readers. Story upon story.
can now read it on your phone, tablet, Countless lives shared and changed.
computer or anywhere you access the What an honor it has been!
internet—a few articles each month for This is the final printed issue.
free, then full access for a fee. And your
subscription supports writer and sellers Thank you for reading.
facing homelessness: speakupmag.com.

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A LONG NIGHT

By Mark Gansert

At an interstate off-ramp on the heat. Mostly directly into my ear which
outskirts of Savannah, Georgia, is a was very annoying and not conducive
Mobil gas station. Behind the station to sleep for either of us.
was a dirt road cut as the begin Eventually I opened the rag top and
ning of a residential subdivision. It let the mosquitoes and air in. Thankful
was like most days in the middle of ly the pure DEET covering everything
summer in the deep south, hot and kept the blood feast to a minimum.
humid. My Great Dane, Thor, rode in Again we tried to sleep. Finally sweet
the back of my Toyota Celica Con dreams fell upon both of us.
vertible. We were crammed in with Sometime in the early morning we
the remnants of my house. Which awoke to rain falling on our heads.
wasn’t much, but after all was a sports Having to close the rag top was
car. As night fell we pulled out of the frightening. Having to roll up the win
station. Drove down the dirt road dows was horrifying. Soon we found
without headlights around a curve ourselves in a body heat sauna. Thor
and tried to get some sleep. panting as if he ran a few miles and me
Within a half an hour I could tell it sweating salt stains unto the fabric of
was going to be a very long night. The the seat.
mosquitoes were in a feeding frenzy. We both gave up sleeping that night.
Savannah is pretty much a swamp. I
dosed the dog and myself with one
hundred percent DEET. Leaving
a nasty chemical taste in both our
mouths. We settled back and tried to ___
sleep. Thor with his head right next to Read and share online.
mine panting heavily trying to shed his SPEAKUPMAG.COM/MARK

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The real art to flying the cardboard lies in
the sign itself. Humor and honesty are
surefire messages that get people digging in
their ashtrays for change.

I’m way too sexy to my sharpie
be homeless. marker and
need $ for cardboard habit
plastic surgery to is getting
be ugly. expensive

My Entirely panhandling dysfunctional addiction & completely is out of honest control

Yep, I’ve used all of those.

—Mark

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ON AND OFF AND
ON THE STREETS

By Troy Burtnick

I came to the city fleeing a messy di he had an overload of contracts. Well
vorce on a wing and a prayer. I had an I get the crew together and headed
investor friend in Huntington, WV, this way with high hopes.
and he told me he had a friend here Unfortunately those hopes were
who needed a roofing crew because quickly dashed because the man I was

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working for was a crook, and within same amount of time to get into the
two weeks he disappeared with ev cafeteria to eat.
eryone’s money and fled the state. He By the time I finally got to sit down
didn’t even have a contractors license. to enjoy dinner, a fight broke out at
Well I had to spend every dime I had the table next to mine and a guy came
to send my crew back to WV which rocketing at my table from a mean
left me stuck here and broke with no left hook. Well there went dinner and
where to go. I tried the shelter uptown I wasn’t about to stand in line for an
but I could only handle that place for other two hours. Fortunately I had $3
three days. in my pocket so dinner was a Pepsi, a
I earned some quick money hand bag of chips, and a candy bar from the
ing out Nature Valley Granola Bars vending machines. Finding a spot on
and bought a tent and a sleeping bag. the floor and out of the way, I sat down
I did this and then I landed a job at a to enjoy my feast. Thankfully I got to
diner and with their help I moved into eat that meal in peace.
a place within two months. Then the Afterwards, I made my way to the
restaurant closed and the whole thing restroom. It wasn’t hard to find, all one
ended in disaster. Then I found Speak had to do was follow the stench of
Up Magazine. Now I earn money sell urine and feces emanating from within.
ing the magazine and rent a nice room I walked in and the first thing I saw
on Albemarle Road. It is never far from was a man in a stall with the door ajar.
my mind how close I am to being back He had a needle in his arm and he was
on those streets. sitting in his own feces with his pants
There are more experiences than I pulled down. Not a pretty sight. When
can truly count of my time homeless. I I told staff it took them over an hour to
will attempt to scratch the surface for check on him.
you though. Let me first explain that I must admit that I didn’t sleep that
unless you experience it yourself, I don’t night and I couldn’t wait to get out of
believe you can ever fully understand. there. It made living in a tent seem like
My first night at the shelter was a dream come true after that experi
beyond horrendous right from the ence.
beginning. It was so crowded in there
that more people were sleeping on the
floors than in the beds. It took over ___
two hours of standing in line outside Read and share online.
just to get in. Then it took almost the SPEAKUPMAG.COM/TROY

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THINGS WE DO
NOT SAY

By Renee Rop
Illustrations by Haley McCord

Life on the streets is ROUGH: against our brothers and sisters. There
Where to sleep without being ha is sexual assault. Rape. Unfortunately,
rassed; how to keep oneself and one’s this is almost commonplace among our
valuables safe and dry; how to stay alleged brothers and our sisters. The
warm. Where is the nearest public incidents of sexual assault rise incre
restroom? One does not wish to get a mentally with the use of alcohol (or
loitering ticket, or even worse, a pub other drugs).
lic urination charge, which is actually Women who are homeless are less
a Criminal Sexual Conduct charge. visible than the men. I hesitate to
Life on the street is more difficult mention acts of violence because the
for women. Safety and security are community already has a poor image of
always at odds with being “out there” “us.” Yet because this has been so un
among the rest of society at large. mentionable, it has become one more
Life on the street can be dangerous, reason such violence continues.
even in our community. There is theft, (Don’t worry; it doesn’t happen in
often among our own (homeless), if your backyard or driveway.)
you can imagine stealing from anoth It happens under bridges and in
er who has so little. There is violence. wooded areas. It happens in the dark. It
This often accompanies theft. Violence happens when couchsurfing or in tents.

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But it happens. It happens often when oneself in. We discover this only by
we are asleep, unconscious, in a black experience. I have tried to warn “new
out, or too impaired or outnumbered to bies,” generally to no avail. We think
fight back. I feel compelled to mention we are among friends; protectors. We
it, because it does happen and is even have even less credibility than the aver
less reported than sexual assault among age citizen within the community with
the non-homeless in the community. local law enforcement. Who is going to
“Why?” you may ask. Many are the do anything? What will be the conse
reasons. Often alcohol is involved. An quences of reporting? It is a fact that
unspoken code is if you drink with the we must continue to walk these same
guys, sexual assault may sadly be a part streets among our perpetrators. There
of the price of hanging with the guys. is fear of retribution. Making a “report”
If you are couchsurfing, it may be the does not get the offenders off the street
undiscussed rent. In a tent near others, immediately, if ever.
presumably for safety, one cannot lock I know many women in the home

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less community who have been sexually vene. As homeless, we are often viewed
assaulted by our own. I am among as non-members of society. There is
these ranks. If we talk about this at all, no justice for us. Just look at the stink
it is among each other – those who created whenever we try to build a new
understand and those who compre shelter.
hend the “whys” of not reporting versus Many do care, but most do not.
“judging” of the silence. “Not in our neighborhood.” “Not on
I guess this is my attempt to speak our streets.” “Not in our city.” And so,
up about this form of violence. Not under the bridges and into the woods
much can be done about it. Awareness, we go where there is no safety, no secu
maybe. Some might say this is fatalis rity, and no witnesses.
tic, but it’s simply the reality as I have
always seen it. It is unlikely that these ___
incidents will begin to be reported. It’s Read and share online.
unlikely others will notice and inter SPEAKUPMAG.COM/RENEE

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NO IDEA WHY

By Edward Smalls

I grew up out in the country in a I know the feeling of losing someone
little town twenty miles south of because I lost my son to gun violence.
Charleston, South Carolina.
It happened in 2012. We’d been
My relatives are still there. together for 36 years, since the day
he was born. We had a good relation
We weren’t rich but it was good ship. We were friends—father and
childhood. son, but friends too.

I used to love to hunt and fish. I I have no idea why they killed him.
killed a lot of squirrels, raccoons,
rabbits and deer. They lured him into a back street and
shot him three times in the chest.
When I was thirteen or fourteen, I
had a bolt-action 12 gauge six shot. I couldn’t give the slightest reason
why someone would have killed him.
The gun would turn you upside
down! You had to hold it right or it I don’t know why that happened.
would knock you down.
I really don’t. I know that he loved to
Guns are a serious thing. You have to be out with everybody. He was a nice
use good judgment because a gun is a person, as far as I know. There must
dangerous tool. You have to use your have been some kind of misunder
head. standing that he and someone had,
and he got lured into the wrong place
Getting mad at someone and killing and got killed.
someone…that’s not the way.
I don’t know why he got killed.

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The law never found out who killed there and visit my mother on all the
him or why. I just left the area before holidays. My son had two kids. I still
I killed someone. It would have prob see my grandkids every time I go to
ably been the wrong person. Charleston. They are doing great.

I needed to go somewhere so I came I do miss my son.
to Charlotte. I was homeless for
awhile but now my life is more stable. I miss him every day.

___Things are going well for me. Now
Read and share online.I often go back to Charleston to
SPEAKUPMAG.COM/EDWARDvisit my family. I take the bus back

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I’M NOT BITTER

By Ava Roseboro

I was born in Atlantic City, NJ, in could get my next hit. I had to think
1965. I spent most of my summers on of ways to get money, and get money
the beaches and the boardwalk watch fast. I tried to convince myself that I
ing all the tourists gather, from all was making a fair exchange because I
around the world, to spend their vaca was not actually standing on a corner,
tion at the world’s biggest playground. so I didn’t consider it prostitution, but
I was molested at the age of eight up it was. I was using my body to pay for
until I was 12 years old when I began my habit.
to make the streets my home. In the summer of 1984, I went to
As early as 11 years of age, I re Philadelphia, with some people I met
member my mother having parties and on the boardwalk in Atlantic City, to
gambling sessions in our home. I was a house party. The drugs and alcohol
exposed to a lot at a young age. We were flowing freely. I over-indulged
were poor and grew up on a rough side and experienced my first blackout. I
of town known as “Back Maryland.” knew it was divine providence that led
My addiction started the first time I me back to NJ safely. However, I still
had a taste of alcohol at 11 years old. did not stop using drugs.
The first time I smoked marijuana, I The day I overdosed was so clear
was 12 years old. I started smoking to me. It was a cold and rainy night
cigarettes when I was 13 years old. in October 1985. I had no money, no
In 1982, I had my first taste of job, and no place to call home. So I
cocaine. I started out sniffing. Shortly did what I knew best—hustled until
after, I began to smoke it in my mar I could raise the funds needed to get
ijuana. After awhile, I felt like I just high. It was a horrible cycle of drugs
couldn’t get high enough. I was then and despair. I found myself in a part
introduced to crack cocaine, and my of Atlantic City known as the Inlet. I
life quickly became out of control. My hooked up with a couple of guys and
only concern was where and when I experienced my first love for pills.

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I thought for sure that barbiturates ment classes, one-on-one counseling,
and Valium could erase all the pain GED. I even signed up for the Scared
from my past–the constant voices in Straight program to warn young girls
my head, the abandonment issues, the about the dangers of a life of crime and
abuse, the loneliness I often felt, and prison.
worst of all, the emptiness. I didn’t It wasn’t until the Amer-I-Can pro
know then, but I know now, that I had gram founder and CEO, Jim Brown
a void that only God could fill. After a came to the prison that I began to see
night of drinking, drugging, not eating the hand of God upon my life. I got
or sleeping, it finally took a toll on my saved on November 1, 1993. It was
body. I had overdosed. When I came the best decision God allowed me to
to myself, I was laying in Atlantic City make. Four years after I gave my life to
Medical Center with tubes in all my Christ, I was raped and forced to have
veins and feeling the echo of death. I an abortion behind bars.
had no hope and no real sense of who I Since then, I have learned the power
was or what my purpose was in life. of forgiveness. I had to forgive others.
After my stay in the medical center, Not an easy task but possible when the
I was taken to Acorn Psychiatric Hos love of God is rooted deep in my heart.
pital. Until this day, I still don’t know I have been molested, addicted,
how I got there or how long I stayed. battled substance abuse, overdosed,
When I was released, I went back placed in a psychiatric hospital, abused
home to the same life of depression, by ex-boyfriends, abandoned by loved
hopelessness and despair, so the cycle ones, lost my children to the state, been
continued. homeless and imprisoned.
On May 7, 1989, I was sentenced But I can truly say that I’m not
to 30 years to life for murder. I took bitter. I’m better.
the plea and ended up with the lesser My past is not my potential.
charge of involuntary manslaughter. My future is so bright, I’ve got to
I was sent to Edna Mahan, the only wear sunglasses.
women’s prison in NJ. Prison life was
worse than the streets, but since I
had to be there, I made the most of it
by applying myself to the many free ___
programs they had to offer: NA, AA, Read and share online.
behavior modification, anger manage SPEAKUPMAG.COM/AVA

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THINK UPWARD

By Angel Williams

purchase drugs and alcohol.
I thought it was acceptable to sleep
under bridges, on sidewalks, or any
other concrete surface.
I had grown numb to my reality.
My best days in this place of mental
poverty consisted of warm nights in
the men’s shelter. Little did I know that
these so-called “best days” were actually
my worst days, but my mental poverty
had me believing that I was all right in
such a stage.
The people that I hung with were
also suffering from mental poverty, and
they could not advise me to do better
My former life was one of difficulty because, just like me, their worst days
and hardships. were equivalent to their best days.
It pains me to even think about my
past. At the same time, I now use those It was the reality of poverty upon
former endeavors as tools to motivate poverty.
me to stay on the right path. My personality was non-existent. I
When I was homeless on the streets, found laughter to be one of the most
I was in a horrible mental state. I challenging activities to participate in.
could not seem to get my thought life Smiling was just as difficult. I possessed
organized. When I could, my thoughts an aura that was extremely unpleasant,
consisted of lowliness. and I was losing myself more and more
I thought of panhandling (which to a nomadic life. The reward of such a
I did) only so I could get money to life was incarceration. Paradoxically, the

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incarceration served as a great blessing growth in this area. Laughter is no lon
in disguise because it helped me regain ger a challenge; it is becoming second
my mental clarity. nature to me. Smiling has become a
With my growing mental clarity, I regular facial gesture for me, and my
had the ability to envision countless aura is more inviting.
forms of prosperity. I am rediscovering myself as each
If one can envision a thing, they can day passes.
also achieve it. And this fact brings me The reward of this way of life is
to my present stage in life. more promising than the reward of
When I was incarcerated, I began to a nomadic life. Still, I rest thankfully
search myself. I found a lot of positive for all of my former hardships because
attributes, but they were being choked those perilous times have given me
out and annihilated by the negative great insights and more wisdom. I also
attributes I had accumulated during understand that those perilous times
my street life. I realized that I had to have equipped me to help someone
cleanse myself mentally and spiritually. else who may be stuck in my former
I did. That process led me to become lifestyle. I truly believe that those expe
settled in my life. riences will serve as a foundation that
Now I understand the significance I will need in order to be an effective
of an organized thought life. force in other hopeless people’s lives.
Today my better thoughts consist of In the end of it all, I can see the
the harvest of my actions which lead benefit of my hardships.
me to pursue life cautiously. I no longer I am now equipped to be that per
think it sufficient to sleep under bridg son who helps others regain their hope
es, on sidewalks, or any other concrete as well as their confidence. Without
surface. I am no longer numb to the the pain of my former life, I would not
reality in which I formerly participated. be equipped to serve others in such a
My best days are no longer in that way.
place of mental poverty in which I used My name is Angel Williams.
to dwell.
Today I associate with people who
are mentally and spiritually rich, and
they serve as my instructors as well as
my beacons of hope. ___
My personality is presently more Read and share online.
pleasant, but I still have room for SPEAKUPMAG.COM/ANGEL

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A GOOD RIDE

By David Alan Goldberg

There I was in my rubber-soled hik settled on that patch of the berm for
ing boots shuffling backwards, on the maybe less than half an hour of kids
safe side of the gravel-lined break yelling obscenities at me, flipping me
down lane, facing the steady traffic off, and scared old ladies looking at me,
of Hwy. 62. In my left hand was terrified of the potential voodoo my eye
a cardboard sign that read, “Truth” contact may level against them. None
with an olive branch drawn beneath of it brought me down, though. The
the greeting. The thumb of my right air was warm and breezy. I had rested
hand pointed toward the western well before the bacon and eggs hit the
horizon serrated with scotch pine skillet. I was in no hurry.
trees. The ribbons of alizarin crimson Skidding to a halt on the gravel
that had scored the coral blue sky behind me was my first ride which
earlier in the morning had suddenly came as a big surprise to me. It was a
cleared, opening up the most radiant 1940’s K-model International Harvest
ly beautiful field of periwinkle blue I er bus painted cold gray with a jack
have ever seen. rabbit stenciled on the rear and a Texas
I was headed west, hopefully Cali license plate with a passel of registra
fornia. This, my friends, is Hwy. 62 in tion stickers keeping it up to date. The
Oak Ridge, Tennessee. I had just come big surprise was the first impression
down from Norris Dam State Park. I of the driver, this old cat who cut his
had no idea the Clinch River was so eyes toward the sun as he lowered the
wide and proud and ran so thick with visor, approaching me. I thought he
life. To hear that river breathe is an was yet another motorist on a mission
honor. Ideally, today I would like to to get somewhere, like so many others.
make it to Memphis. If I make it as far No worries. No sweat. Now, here he
as Cookeville, I will be satisfied. was waiting on me. Sweet! The door
Cars and trucks had been zipping swung open and revealed this skinny
by about a dozen per minute. I had septuagenarian with a voice not unlike

2020

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“Mule Variations”-era Tom Waits, just the sight of the multi-colored Tibetan
a little smoother around the edges and prayer flags strung along the windows.
understandably twangier. “This is gonna be a good ride!” I
“Git on in, son!” he growled with a responded, nodding.
gold-capped grin, shaded by his Asleep
at the Wheel hat. “Plenty of room in ___
this here spaceship!” Then the funk of Read and share online.
marijuana smoke hit me along with SPEAKUPMAG.COM/DAVID

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ONE WEEK ON THE
STREETS

Journal by Vince Shumate
photos by the author

I’m now in Asheville, North Caroli cally have no one to confide in. That’s
na. It’s a beautiful city nestled in the when journaling morphs into therapy.
southern Appalachian Mountains. Make a gratitude list when you’re
I’ve been here since November. I was feeling sad or depressed. Your whole
here for a while the year before last outlook on life will improve. Don’t take
but headed south to Sarasota when it my word for it; try it just once, and
started getting real cold. Spent about you’ll see for yourself.
nine months in Sarasota. Before you read about a week of my
Back now in “Beer City.” There are life, I need to preface it by telling you
more breweries here per capita than in about the day I decided to quit drink
any other city in the US. I’m sober now ing.
and have been for 86 days. As I said, today marks 86 days sober.
I’ve been to a lot of different cities, I’ve had absolutely no urges or crav
but Asheville is the only one I’d like ings to drink. I’ve even gone to three
to someday settle in. If I ever settle bars while hanging out with friends. I
anywhere. did so because one of my friends said
I only have two people that I can say they thought they may have a drinking
are true friends in Asheville. They listen problem and said they wanted to talk
to understand, not only to reply. I basi to me about how I quit. The thought

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My eyes then went from my wrist, to the knife, to my wrist… Behind the church where I slept.

to drink never enters my mind. The to shake, chilling, sweating, nauseat
thought of alcohol itself enters my ed, with a headache, and those damn
mind on occasion. Alcohol is not the racing thoughts, I notice a little black
same substance I once considered it to object sticking out from the bottom of
be. It used to numb me to the world. a raised lamppost. I reached down and
I used it for escape and to anesthetize picked it up. It was a nice lock-blade
life. I thought of it as my best friend. knife. I was close to the courthouse,
It was always there to pick me up and so there’s a 100 percent chance that
take me away–only to slam me down someone going to court stashed it there
later. so it wouldn’t be confiscated at the
That’s where I was 87 days ago, courthouse metal detector. They forgot
slammed down harder than I’d ever to get it when the got out of court or
been. I was walking around town maybe went directly to jail.
about 5am on a cold, rainy, and dreary I picked it up and just stared at it.
Sunday morning. I was jonesing for Stared at it way too long. When my
nicotine and walking the sidewalks to eyes did leave the knife they shifted
try and find a cigarette. I was starting to my left wrist. My eyes then went
to go through alcohol withdrawals, and from my wrist, to the knife, to my wrist
I expected them to get much worse. to the knife… I realized I was going
While I was walking around starting to have to make a decision. I had to

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pt. There’s actually someone sleeping there.

decide to live or die. I couldn’t decide. and also decreases the craving for alco
I was in that much mental pain. The hol. So I had somewhat of a parachute
racing thoughts were just too much. when I left there. Each Vivitrol shot
I walked around for about an hour lasts 28 days. I thought that I should
focusing on the pros and cons of life be able to build up a better support
and death. Someone once said that network in that time because I couldn’t
suicide is not a choice, that it happens keep getting the shot. Didn’t want to.
when the pain becomes greater than That one shot was over $1,300. It was
the resources to deal with it. I believe it covered under some type of grant, so I
wholeheartedly. wasn’t obligated for the cost.
I eventually decided to reach out I didn’t really expand my support
and get help. I’m so grateful now that network, I just strengthened the one
I did. I went to the hospital and told I had. Something else I did was that
them exactly what I was going through. I came to see alcohol in a whole new
They sent me to a detox/crisis center. I light. When that knife was in my hand,
was there for a week. I was able to get I wasn’t seeing the knife. I was looking
an injection of Vivitrol before I was Death in the eye. The full impact of
discharged. It’s an opioid blocker that alcohol usage had hit me head on.
has the side effects of stopping any
elation (buzz) I would get by drinking

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The VRQ was once a motel.

day. So I end up eating lots of oodles Day One
of noodles and canned beans.
I’m still sleeping rough (residen I didn’t apply for a card right after
tially challenged), so starting my my last one lapsed. You know why?
day around 3 or 4 in the morning is Going to sign up at DSS would have
the norm. I found some clean, dry cut into my drinking time. I swear
cardboard and slept behind a church that’s the truth. So I set up my little
last night. The weather wasn’t too office at HT every morning. Coffee,
bad, cool but at least it was dry. I computer, legal pad, earbuds, and wifi.
walked about a mile to the Harris I’m good to go.
Teeter grocery store (HT) for my After coffee this morning, I was
coffee run. They have a small café walking toward town and noticed a
area with microwave, coffee machine, guy asleep in the Parks and Recreation
little tables, and wifi. I buy Folgers flower garden with traffic whizzing
instant single packs of coffee. I get by on two sides of him. Maybe he
seven for a dollar. I finally applied for wasn’t asleep. I know how this guy
and received my EBT card, so I have feels. I hope he is getting sleep. Total
a little money to eat with – about $6 exhaustion will cause you to lay down
a day. Did you know a chicken salad anywhere, anytime. Better that than
sandwich is $5.99? Just one sandwich falling down. I get so little sleep. One
and I spend all I allot myself for the time in Wilmington, I went without

Page 27

sleep for so long that I started hallu don’t have money for the essentials of
cinating. Sleep deprivation cause can life, much less for anything else.
cause irritability, anxiety, depression, as It’s about 5pm, and I’m sitting in
well as higher cognitive thinking such the Edible Park. It has a boardwalk
as planning and judgment. It has even with fruit and nut trees and will have a
been known to cause death. vegetable and butterfly garden when it
Just a bit further up the sidewalk warms up. Anyone is welcome to help
I see this. This is what happens when themselves to the foods growing here;
you try to hide some of the things you you’re only asked not to take more than
just can’t carry all the time. People will your share. I came here because it’s so
be looking for a spot to hide their own peaceful and relaxing. I find the need to
clothes, run across yours, rifle through get away from people on a regular ba
all your stuff, take what they want, and sis, the need to think without interrup
fling the rest to the dirt. Hell, probably tion. The stairwell in the Edible Park
the only thing they got was something reminds me of my journey, uphill and
like a tube of toothpaste and a stick of steep with few places to pause. What
gum. ever is at the top has yet to be seen.
I saw two other similar piles of
clothes strewn about like this on the Day Two
same day. All three were women’s
clothes. Not having a safe convenient Slept behind a church downtown
place to store things makes a difficult last night. I never know where I’ll
situation even worse. In a few cities end up sleeping. Walked to HT for
I’ve been to, occasionally a non-profit my usual routine of coffee and tried
will have some storage for the home to make some kind of plan for the
less. There’s usually a waiting list to get night. The weather is supposed to
something like a plastic clothes bin. If be right around 32 degrees tonight.
you are fortunate enough to get one, Thirty-two degrees and below and
you will only have access to it at certain the Veteran’s Restoration Quarters
times on certain days, usually being may declare the weather code “Pur
able to access it once a day at the most. ple” at which point they allow veteran
I would say that someone could get and civilian homeless people to come
rich by opening a storage facility with inside, have dinner, and sleep on the
only small lockers since there is such a floor in an area between the dining
great need for them in every city. It’ll hall and the stage. The VRQ was
never happen. Most homeless people once a motel on Tunnel Road that

Page 28

Wondering where I will sleep tonight. This guy’s bag got ripped into. My office at Harris Teeter

was purchased by Asheville Bun ing, I emailed the VRQ hoping for two
combe Community Christian Min things: 1) that someone is in the office,
istry to help and house our veterans. 2) that they say code purple is on. I
There are some great people living explained in the email that I had called
and working there. All they ask for is earlier and was told a determination
respect. The veterans deserve respect had not been made. I also explained
and much more for putting their lives that the temperatures were supposed
on the line for this country and our to hover around 32 degrees around
freedoms. 5am and sincerely told him that I was
Walking around and wondering not equipped to handle temps in the
what I’m going to do to weather the lower 30’s. I got a reply in 17 minutes.
cold tonight. I have no stand-by place They told me to come on out, and that
that’s warm where I can go. I’ll call VRQ would have a bed for me. I’m
VRQ and see if it’s going to be code so grateful that people care. I wish
purple. I called around 3pm, and the better for the ones that don’t. Whew!
person who answered the phone said What a load off my mind. I would get
they had not received any word yet something to eat, sleep, and shower.
about the code determination. More All three were overdue. It turns out
anxiety about the coming night. I’m that they did NOT call code purple.
already cold, and the sun hasn’t even It turned out they had a bed for an
set yet. overnighter.
It’s about 5 now, and instead of call

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Teeter The shortcut path to the liquor store is a slippery slope.

I called and got a phone tree that
wanted my name and number so they Day Three
could call me back. I was calling from
After having a hot breakfast of eggs, the VRQ house phone, so it was not
bacon, and grits, I decided to make possible to leave a number. I don’t have
a call to Swain Recovery in Black a phone and haven’t had one for a long
Mountain. They have a 42-day res time. I’ll try calling from somewhere
idential program that will allow me else.
to focus on my addiction and mental Went to an AA meeting this night.
health issues without incurring all the My first one since I quit. I didn’t go
stressors that come with life—espe because I was thinking about drinking.
cially with life on the streets. I need I went to try and find out what other
help merging with the sober world drunks did if they had found them
and society as a whole. It has been selves in my predicament. The meeting
a long time since I’ve done so. I feel was small, about nine people. Finding
like I don’t fit. I don’t even know if an AA home group takes a while. You
fit is a good word. It’s like I want to have to shop around. Not all are going
make plans for the future, but how to be a good fit. The same goes with
can I do that when I don’t even know getting a sponsor. I found out that it’s
where I’ll sleep each night? Swain easy to take the first sponsor that offers
may give me the time and guidance I to be one for you. That’s also a mis
need to take the first steps into LIFE. take. You have to get to know people

Page 30

first. There’s a lot I could say about my fulfilling than any paycheck. But that
choosing a sponsor, but I’ll save that paycheck will enable me to break this
one for later. cycle of sleeping rough.
Day Four Day Five
This day started as usual. Coffee and Slept behind a retail store off Bilt
breakfast burrito at HT. I was there more Ave. It was a pretty good
from 3 to 4 this morning. They close spot–out of the wind and on clean,
at 4 am so they can do the house dry cardboard. There was some foot
keeping thing. They reopen the café traffic through the nigh, but it was on
again at 6am. the sidewalk about 100’ away. Went
I finished reading ‘Buddhism for to HT for coffee then back to town.
Busy People’ a few weeks ago, and At Harris Teeter saw an older gen
through the day I practice some of tleman was having difficulty getting up
what I call mindful practices. When I on a tall stool to sit at the half counter.
do this, I relax a bit. My mind clears. I I looked around and all the tables were
urge you to take a look at it. The book, full. I went over and asked him if he’d
not my mind. My mind would be clear, like to sit down at a table. He smiled
so you couldn’t see anything anyway. big and said he would. I moved some
Went out to C3 to get out of the of my “office” to the side and we sat
cold. I’m getting to know a couple of and began a real chat.
the peer support specialists there. I I found out he’s 88 years young
try and observe their actions. In only and used to do alcohol research in the
six months, I will start the process 1960’s in New York. He asked about
of getting certified as a Peer Support me, and I told him everything.
Specialist myself. I have to send in the He told me of a story about a
application for the training. It may take practice they used to do to drunks that
three months to be approved and get shook me up…a lot. He said at one
in the hours of training required by time the cops used to pick up drunks
the State. So nine months from now, I and take them to some sort of hospi
could be employed in a job that really tal/jail/asylum where they would be
won’t be a job at all. I enjoy helping put in straight jackets and sometimes
people. If I can help anyone, especially even had their tongues PINNED to
a young person, avoid the hell I went the straight jacket. Supposedly to keep
through for 30+ years, it will more them from swallowing their tongues.

Page 31

He said he didn’t believe it, until he Day Six
saw their tongues. We talked non-stop
about alcohol addiction. I slept behind the author Thomas
We’d been talking for awhile when I Wolfe’s childhood home last night
was residentially challenged. He asked under the portico. It usually is pretty
me if he gave me a little something. quiet here. It’s one of my favorite
I never told him I needed a thing or places just to go and sit and write.
asked him for money. I told him I After I got up, I went nearby to stash
wouldn’t take money for asking him if some belongings where I thought
he’d like to sit. He smiled and said he they might stay dry for a while.
just wanted to help. He said, “It’s only Rainy, windy, muddy, and I was wear
twenty; I wish I had more to give you.” ing shoes with absolutely no tread on
We talked more and I got to meet them. Of course I fell and busted my
his wife later. butt on a slight grade. Less than five
What a beautiful morning and minutes into the day, I’m cold, wet,
beautiful conversation between two muddy, and hurting. I can’t wait to
complete strangers. see the Technicolor bruises I’ll have
It started pouring rain, but luckily I shortly. Limped a mile up to HT for
had a small umbrella in my pack. I hate coffee and a breakfast burrito.
any extra weight in that appendage, but I checked the weather, and cold
when it starts raining, an umbrella can temps with high winds around 30
be worth it’s weight in gold. mph are predicted. That should mean
Went back out to C3 to talk to the the VRQ will declare code purple and
peers. On my way down Biltmore, I allow us to come in for dinner and a
got a picture of a shortcut path to the warm place to sleep. Code Purple is
liquor store. Maybe some of the grass not a statute or city code that can be
will start growing back on it, since I enforced. Each individual shelter de
don’t use it anymore. The picture is very cides. I thank God they do open their
symbolic to me. In more ways than doors.
one, it’s a steep downhill path. A slip
pery slope even if it’s not muddy. And Day Seven
it seems like Mother Nature wanted to
make it even more slippery by adding Slept fitfully. My back and neck have
gumballs to the mix. That slippery been bothering me quite a bit. I think
slope can lead you to the bottom faster it’s a combination of osteoarthritis
than you could imagine. and the fact that I have this append

Page 33

age on my back over 12 hours a day. Tomorrow
When I do get some kind of housing
that lasts more than one night at a There’s always a tomorrow. I don’t
time, my biggest gratitude will be know what mine will hold. Uncer
that I can stop wearing that damn tainty is always a pain, but looking at
backpack all day. Some days, I have it from another perspective, it leaves
to eat a lot of Ibuprofen to keep the all kinds of doors available. Some will
tears out of my eyes from the pain. open, and some will remain closed
My friend Janet helped me by fur and locked.
nishing me with a phone. I would have One day in the future, I’d like to
gotten an ‘Obama’ phone, but I have no become some sort of liaison between
address for them to mail it to. When I the homeless and others who may be
tried to use the address of a local day able and want to help. A lot of people,
shelter that the homeless can use to businesses, and organizations either
receive mail, they told me that the gov don’t know how to help, or even if they
ernment phones can’t be shipped there. can. I’d like to clear that up for those
I asked why, and they said the govern who want to help but don’t know how
ment will only ship a certain number apply their resources for best efficiency.
of phones to any one street address. I Now that I’m sober, I don’t feel that
thought the phone program was for I’ll be homeless much longer. Living
people who can’t afford them. Who homeless for so long has left indelible
is a better example of someone who memories of changes that can be made.
can’t afford a phone than someone who Changes that can help all people, not
doesn’t even have their own mailing just the homeless. I will give back. I
address, much less an address? I asked will never forget who I am and what I
if the phone could be sent General came from.
Delivery, Asheville, NC 28801. They I am mindful.
said yes, but also said they weren’t sure. I am Vince.
I asked how I would find out if it could
be shipped general delivery. You already
know how they replied, “You’ll have to
call our Customer Service number.” I
just shook my head and still do every
time I think about that. ___
Read and share online.

SPEAKUPMAG.COM/VINCE

Page 35

JUNKYARD
ANGELS

By Dustin LaPres

We were dreamers living under the adult responsibilities and live our days
bridges and in the train yards of my out as free rebels.
hometown. I was the youngest mem Many of us were alcoholics.
ber of a small band of vagabond ro We were unburdened with societal
mantics who had, for various reasons, convention and dedicated to the art of
shrugged off the traditional yoke of experiencing the fullness of unfettered
young adulthood and had chosen to existence in the grand tradition of our
live outdoors as sort of self-realized homeless literary, musical, and artistic
urban survivalists and junkyard angel heroes. We were young, we were in love
romantics. We held court during the with life, and we had nothing.
daylight hours at various locations I can’t speak for the others, but I
around our small, northern Michigan had experienced a somewhat normal
town, drinking and hustling by day upper-middle class upbringing. Al
and drinking even harder and sing though adopted and problematic as a
ing/playing guitar by night. child, one could say that, for the most
We were a closely knit group of part, I had every advantage regarding
friends and dreamers, all bound togeth my childhood home and education;
er by a common dream: the dream that and yet, just beneath the surface, I
we could forego the meaninglessness of had always experienced something

Page 36

very different. I had always been wild, for many of the chronic alcoholics,
rebellious, and discontent with what I addicts, and mentally disturbed—his
perceived as the expectations of regular only refuge.
society—especially my parents. Their Dano and I shared countless camp
lifestyle was something so alien to me sites on and off over the course of the
in terms of satisfaction, and I was ever next 15 years and remain solemn blood
the disinterested third person observer brothers to this day. There were others
in that life. That all changed for me too. Most of them had met us at some
when I left home for the first time and point while we were drinking and cat
experienced the boundless freedom of erwauling under the bridges or in the
the street life. It was as if I had been set rail yards and had fallen in love with
free from prison for the very first time us and our devil-may-care lifestyle, but
while yet completely unaware of the most of them were part-time hobo’s
fact that I was ever a prisoner until I fi at best. They came and camped for a
nally stepped outside of the boundaries time, and then they went home to their
of that middle-class paradigm of social loving families when it got cold outside
control and struck out on my own to or they became sufficiently homesick
live on the street and explore. or the street life had, for them, lost it’s
I was in love with it from the very luster. Dano, Sean, and I, however, we
first moment, as were the others whom were chronic homeless cats from those
I inspired to follow me. There was days forward.
my friend Sean, 23, who had been a In retrospect, I often wonder if those
waiter and barely made enough to live early homeless roadtripper years were
in a motel and eat sparingly. Short the greatest days of our lives or if the
ly after I left home and took to the greatest days are yet to come. We lived.
street, he followed suit and joined me I mean we truly experienced life on a
for an adventurous two-year journey level that I wish everyone could share
across America. Then there was my because it was more than just a string
friend Dano who had moved here to of drunken street adventures. It was a
escape his abusive stepfather and had truly spiritual experience whose lessons
worked various factory and restaurant have made me a better man and have
jobs, always toiling so hard to barely accompanied me throughout the rest
subsist on cheap junk food and booze, of my life. Though we had nothing in
drinking and singing his only form of any material sense, we discovered a vast
entertainment, and a room in a shoddy fortune in the non-material realm. For
hotel that was the final resting place a few years, the entire North American

Page 37

continent was our playground, and we generosity shines like a million candle
explored it as daytripping bodhisattvas, power compared to what I experience
living and learning, and writing, and in my daily life today.
loving our way collectively across the I also experienced another strange
country and even into Mexico. We phenomenon during those years: I
played concerts under bridges—some witnessed my situation bring out the
times with audiences of 20-30 people very best in many of the working and
drinking and singing along. We met average citizens of communities I
the local homeless people in every visited. There were so many wonderful
town we drifted through, and we broke people who had homes and jobs who
bread with them, shared our stories, ventured out to meet us and hear our
shared our art, our music, our poetry, stories, to feed us, buy us things, or give
and most importantly we shared our us their spare change. They stopped to
hearts—we loved them as our brothers tell us God loved us, to offer us tem
and sisters, mothers and fathers. porary shelter in their homes, rides to
Being joined by similar circumstanc their churches, food and clothing, even
es in our homelessness cultivated a the occasional day’s work.
familial love and bond like something One time, while drinking on Pacific
I have seldom experienced in “normal” Beach San Diego, a local gentlemen
society. We shared the last of what came and joined our campfire. There
little we had without second thought. were about six of us, including Sean
We protected one another. The older and myself, and, after drinking and
more experienced taught us survival sharing our fire and stories for a few
skills like we were their own children, hours, he told us the least he could do
and in return we loved them with a was to rent us a motel room for the
fierceness and broken-hearted compas night because it was cold out! I saw
sion that still evokes tears to this day so much of the best in people during
when I think of them or speak of them. those years. Sometimes I wonder if
I met men and women whose creative/ I ever will see so much of the divine
artistic/musical talent surpasses that of spark, which is so fastly fading in these
anything I hear on the radio or televi times, with the frequency and mag
sion. I shared campfires and meals with nitude that I witnessed it in the heart
people whose propensity to love and and spirits of the people I met along
care for their street brethren outshines the way during my drifting years.
that of many of the churches I have en In the end, I lay back at night and
tered; whose kindness, compassion, and I smile and sometimes I laugh quietly,

Page 38

and still yet other times I softly weep lective race of human beings, have the
mourning those angelic vagabonds ability to love—-and thereby change—
whom I met and lost along the way. the experience of another person for
I hear so much talk these days of the better. Even when it is merely in
“Homeless Blight” and so many tales the smallest of ways, like dropping off a
of misery and destitution, and I have bag of burgers to a homeless person. So
no doubt that it is all very real because why don’t more people do it?
I too experienced my fair share of that I also hear the common rationale
as well. There are those who live on that “God loves those who help them
streets because of no choice of there selves,” and that angers me because it
own and who suffer immensely. It sad is so blatantly senseless. Whatever the
dens me because there is so much stig reason behind their economic situa
ma attached to homelessness, and so tion—whether it be by choice or as a
much of it is spawned from ignorance result of misfortune and tragedy—is
and misunderstanding. We all, as a col not everyone worthy of being treated

Page 39

with the same love and compassion, principle today: live without expecta
regardless of their financial status? I tion, love without condition, and obey
believe they are; and if you are of a your God without question.
similar mind, then I beseech you to If you do, you will shine a light on/
make a conscientious effort to be into the hearts and minds of others and
gin taking notice of those “Invisible illuminate the darkness of the night
Citizens” living everywhere you go sky, and the butterfly effect will carry
all across your country. They are not a your lumens into a brighter future for
Blight or an eyesore but rather a wealth all.
of human value with a heart that bleeds
just like yours and a story that may just
inspire you more than anything you
have ever experienced. They are gift
ed, talented, beautiful–though often
broken. They are sometimes the most
spiritual people on Earth, while other
times, perhaps more than just a little
lost and in need of spiritual comfort.
They are gravely misunderstood and
tragically under-appreciated.
One of the greatest lessons in my
life has come as a result of my experi
ence as an alcoholic, an addict, and an
invisible citizen.
That lesson is, and was, the essence
of what it means to have a spirit of
humility. Christ spoke highly of the
poor—funny thing, him being home
less and all—he said, “Blessed are the
Poor in Spirit; for theirs is the king
dom of Heaven.”
If I can leave you with one final
thought today, Invisible Citizen and
Visible Citizen alike, let it be this, ___
the summation of that greatest lesson Read and share online.
which I try to live by as my guiding SPEAKUPMAG.COM/DUSTIN

Page 41

DESPERATE TO GET
CLEAN

By Matt Hoffman

Maybe you have gone camping? At cleanliness. I didn’t want to look home
the end of a weekend in the outdoors less and dirty. I didn’t want to stink
without the comforts of civilization, and repel people. I didn’t want to slide
you may have found that the best further away from civilized living and
part about returning home is the a chance to regain my life. How could
chance to shower and to sleep. In I get a job looking and smelling like I
the wilderness, there are no showers. had been camping for a week?
(Except for waterfalls and rain.) That Also, I have oily skin. Sometimes I
is why God gave us the ability and feel the need to shower multiple times
knowledge to create water treat a day, and I still might not feel clean.
ment facilities and indoor plumbing On the street, it was rare that I could
and showers, bathtubs and flushing shower multiple times in a week. My
toilets. God has been gracious with counselor at the homeless agency liked
these water resources so that we may to tell me that her father would say,
share freely with others. “Missy, don’t even talk to me until I’ve
When I was alone—sleeping alone had a shower, a shave and a cup of
in public, collecting dirt in layers and coffee.” When you are on the street, it’s
becoming more convinced that no one difficult to tell people that they can
cared at all—my largest concern was not talk to you until you’ve showered,

Page 42

because you don’t have access to one. afterwards for twenty minutes. All I
It’s hard to tell others the truth. wanted was a shower. All I wanted was
It’s hard to say “I am scared. I am my life back. All I wanted was to sleep
alone. My teeth hurt. I feel dirty. I feel without some strange man rubbing my
unloved. I feel neglected. I am afraid.” thigh.
When you try to say it and people The largest problem I encountered
ignore you, that makes it even worse. was the difficulty I had staying clean.
I felt dirty, oily, unwashed, ugly There are a lot of showering options
and gross. I had nowhere to hide. My available, if you have money. Not many
struggles were public. I had no room homeless people have a secret stash of
to go into and cry and bury my head in money lying around.
my pillow. I had no stuffed animals to Garden hoses, while they are frigid
talk to. I had no privacy. make excellent showers in the sum
I could hardly sleep at night for fear mertime. Get some soap and some
that I would be beaten, robbed and shampoo, a bathing suit and some flip
raped. I would read in the morning flops and anyone’s driveway becomes
about the crucified homeless man they your own personal shower. It helps
found in the park and the murdered to ask their permission first. (If you
homeless man they found at the nearby aren’t able to ask permission and they
band-shell, and I would be happy that confront you, it can help your case to
the police were waking me up to check gently remind them that they didn’t ask
my ID for my safety as opposed to a for your permission to treat you like
murderer or a rapist. If you were going trash and if they had you would not
to wake me up in the night, I hoped have granted that permission to begin
you were the police. Once on the bench with.)
at Independence Park, I was awoken This is easiest on weekend days
at 3:30 in the morning by a lecherous when many homeowners can be found
man caressing my thigh as though I hosing their cars down, watering their
had invited it simply by being there. I lawns or playing with their pets and
had never been so mystifyingly ap children. You might be surprised as to
palled and repulsed by my entire com how many of the homeowners around
munity than I was at that moment. He your town might be helpful towards
thought my repulsion was funny. He you based upon your own state of mind
surprised that I was upset. I was not and their own. If you don’t beg for
laughing. I rode my bike to the garden food, money or other material pos
at the church on Hawthorne and cried sessions, most people enjoy helping

Page 43

others out. Many of them even seemed from showering. It was curious to me,
to gleefully savor the chance to spray because their method of denial was to
water on me—certainly doing so was deny me that they were ever allowing
far easier than inviting me into their me to shower to begin with. Another
home. (And they could still feel proud option I had utilized to shower was the
of themselves!) local aquatic center. Unfortunately for
In 2010, I had been homeless for me (and for them!), I had exhausted
about two and a half years. I was dirty, my welcome there also.
un-showered and felt just plain gross. With those options gone, I turned
No one wanted to talk with me, get to showering outdoors. Beyond the
close to me, hire me, listen to me or garden hoses, which I mentioned
see me. Being filthy, oil-covered and previously, I had found solace in the
nasty kept me in a pit of homelessness, outdoor showers often times found at
self-disgust and public rejection. outdoor pools in apartment complexes
At this point in time, I had worn and at hotels.
out my welcome at the local YMCAs. It’s interesting, feeling like you
When I first became homeless, I used have to steal a shower. When you are
the YMCAs to grab a shower every unwashed, you feel self-conscious in
few days. Most YMCAs were very public. You feel like you might carry
gracious with me. I was appreciative. around a cloud of stench around with
For some reason, and without warn you, a cloud of stench that unfortu
ing, the YMCAs began blocking me nately irritates those that surround

Page 44

you. When you are dirty, homeless and ball courts, nature trails, a great picnic
feeling shamed, you might become area, swings and a wading pool. Ad
convinced that your filth is the only jacent to the pool is a showering area
impression that others have of you. It to make sure all of the children have
also becomes the only impression you rinsed off properly before and after
have of yourself. That’s the worst part: a they enter the wading pool area. This
constant and nagging and tangible de pool and park is in a beautiful area
stroyer of hope and dignity. That’s what inhabited by some of our city’s most
makes it so maddeningly ironic how influential and exclusive residents.
hard it might be to find a shower if you Their lovely enclave is generally free
have the misfortune to find yourself from people on the streets and any
on the streets. Easy access to would be undesirables.
transformational! Very early one beautiful June
Like a thief, I would “break into” morning, I decided that I was in need
local apartment complexes and hotel of a shower. I had been chased out of
pools during minimum occupancy many of my regular showering spots,
times (usually the early morning, and knew that the wading pool show
sometimes mid-afternoon), and, er would be available, refreshing and
being careful to avoid detection by sanitizing.
groundskeepers and security, I would And it was.
shower quickly and then blend in by The hot soapy water streamed
sunning myself dry. Often I would be through my hair and down my face and
chased out by security. I do not know body, rinsing off the grime, oiliness,
if word had gotten out about me or if I shame, rejection and homelessness. It
was just easily identifiable as a vagrant, ran down my tired legs, pooled around
but I found out rather quickly as time my battered feet, and disappeared into
went on, that I was more and more the drain.
unwelcome at more and more local I picked up my bag and stepped
communities. out of the bathhouse, saw the sunrise
When I ran out of other options, breaking through the trees, and felt—
one of my favorite last resorts was the for a moment—hopeful, clean, normal
shower outside of a certain children’s and human.
wading pool in an upscale public park. ___
If you haven’t been to this park, it is Read and share online.
one of my favorites. There are basket SPEAKUPMAG.COM/MATT

Page 45

GIVE A VOICE
TO THE VOICELESS

DO YOU HAVE A STORY TO SHARE FOR YOURSELF
OR FOR SOMEONE ELSE?

Perhaps you know of a person facing homelessness and
want their narrative to be broadly shared. Maybe your
own story is one that would sharpen, challenge, or uplift
other readers.

Please contribute to Speak Up and give a voice to the
voiceless.

LEARN MORE at VOICE.SPEAKUPMAG.COM.

Page 46

FRESH EYES

By Lana Shaw

the fact to us that he had issues, and
he let us know of his struggles with
anger, I had never seen that side of
him. Around me he showed the utmost
respect. I believe he was the same with
my husband Matt. He would make
us laugh, he would entertain our kids,
he would offer deep and insightful
thoughts. There were times that I could
feel his longing for family and connec
tion so tangibly that it was as if it was
an item he carried around with him in
his bag.
I have vivid memories of our en
counters with Matt Hoffman, but I
Whether it was too-short shorts, don’t clearly remember the last time
funky socks, or neon-bright colors, I saw him. What I do remember is
Matt Hoffman (page 44) always wore getting the news that he had been hit
something that made you look twice. by a car in Charlotte and was dead.
He often paired it with a mischievous My heart felt like it had been punched.
look in his eyes, then added a waggish Tears came freely. Matt and I might
grin. He could make a room feel light not have known all of Matt Hoffman
and lively. that there was to know, but what we
I remember reading a news article did know, and the world he created
about him getting into trouble once with us, we valued and loved. We miss
somewhere downtown. He had lost his him still.
temper and was yelling at someone in Over the last ten years of working at
a public place. Though he didn’t hide Speak Up, we have seen people come

Page 47

and go. They come to us and the life I need the trump card of forgiveness
behind them—the circumstances and that invites the Divine. I won’t feel like
people and choices that all led up to I can do it, in fact, one almost never
their finding Speak Up—is often a “feels” like forgiving. It starts with a
mystery. We get snippets, but it is dif choice, an act of will. That single re
ficult to know the hard facts and clear solve becomes a red carpet that ushers
answers. It doesn’t matter. We take in the Holy One who then changes
them as we find them, we take them as everything. He makes the heart new.
they present themselves to us. We take He makes the eyes new. And He makes
them with a clean slate. Here, perhaps all things new.
for the first time, they find the freedom Perhaps this is the gift most needed
to be something else. To be free of the this season—the gift of grace for others
shackles of their failures, the weight and grace for ourselves. The gift of re
they carry for all the ways they’ve dis alizing that we are not our failures. We
appointed others or themselves. are not our past. They may be a bit part
What is fascinating to me is that of our story, but there is much more
often they act toward us in a way that to the story. The ways that we have
baffles those who have known them disappointed others and disappointed
before—with effort, with respect, with ourselves does not get to define who
dignity, with humility, with grit. Eyes we are. We want this kind of grace for
that stare at them through the pain ourselves, we even recognize how we
and disappointment of the past are like need it.
black holes with a gravitational pull “Love is patient, love is kind. It
that is hard to get around. The eyes of does not envy, it does not boast, it is
the beholder can be a powerful thing. not proud. It does not dishonor others,
It is easy for me to look at those I do it is not self-seeking, it is not easily
not know—those who have not hurt angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
me—with fresh eyes. Much harder, if Love does not delight in evil but re
not near impossible, to look straight at joices with the truth. It always protects,
someone I have loved and believed in, always trusts, always hopes, always
but who has let me down more than perseveres.”
once, with hopeful eyes. For that I So after the really hard year that
need a supernatural power to overcome has been 2020, let’s offer something
and overwhelm the barter system that powerful for the next one: the gift of
is human love. In order to bypass the fresh eyes.
limited capabilities of my mortal heart,

Page 48

TO A FEW OF OUR FRIENDS…

Page 49

YOU ARE DEEPLY LOVED.

And with great gratitude
and affection, thank you:
Peggi
Harry
Bill, Phil & Lisa
Lana

Page 50

TRANSFORM A BEGGAR
INTO A BUSINESS OWNER

People facing homelessness sell subscriptions to Speak
Up Online and earn immediate (and increasing) income.
It gives them work with dignity, money to get off the
streets, and a link to better community.

Do you know of a beggar who needs a hand up?

Bring them a START PACK. It contains everything they
need to move forward: sales supplies, training gear, and
personal items. Empower opportunity. Impart dignity.

Request a pack at START.SPEAKUPMAG.COM.

Page 51

The first issue was published in 2011 and sold on the
streets of Charlotte, NC, by a dozen facing homelessness.

Since then, Speak Up has released 90-plus issues of the
magazine and served over 500 people who write and
sell the magazine to get off the streets.

Speak Up Magazine is a 501(c)3 Public Charity, funded
by donors and readers like you. Please donate to give a
voice, opportunity, and a hand up with dignity.

Speak Up
501 Hawthorne Lane
Charlotte, NC 28204

SPEAKUPMAG.COM

Page 52

SPEAK UP ONLINE
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