Becoming Homeless

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Late last Sunday I was stretching my legs before I leaned on my car to rest. A woman of around seventy-five winters walked past. She had a large Backpack and she was dragging a plastic laundry basket full of stuff. She was well-dressed, and I assumed she must be waiting for a taxi or someone. Suddenly she started to yell, making hand gestures as if she was talking to someone in the distance. She yelled, “Come back, come back here!” I couldn’t see anyone around. She continued, “Comeback here. Pick me up.” For about ten minutes she talked loudly to some invisible person. She was almost sobbing when she complained, “they made me pay 300 dollars for a motel room.” Then she shrieked, “Why? Because you are foolish, you caused that.” Then she warned the invisible person, “Don’t believe them… they are lying to you.” In a …show more content…

Evidently, she was fine until she became homeless. Still, she was clean dressed; the streets have not taken their toll on her appearance. I felt sorry and helpless watching her agonize and yelling for help. Earlier in the afternoon I drove on the 27th street in Oakland, under Highway 580. That street makes me feel guilty though I don’t understand why I feel that way. But then, any human being should feel so—unless they have lost their humanity. Why do people have to live in that kind life, in the Land of Milk and Honey? Rows and rows of tents and simple shades made of carton boxes. They are unfortunate dehumanized people squatting in odd places. Until recently I though Las Angeles Skid Raw was the worst. The definition of Skid Row is “a run-down part of a town frequented by vagrants, alcoholics, and drug addicts.” You watch someone slipping to homelessness, that happens to them. Even the most decent person is likely to become a vagrant alcoholic and drug addict if exposed to homelessness… and helplessness. Mostly, its situations that create vagrants—naturally, people are not created

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