Return to So I Grew Two Voices
Return to Columns Page
Return to Sonoma County Free Press Home Page

Last revised: August, 1993

HOMELESSNESS

LATE TO BED/EARLY TO RISE--
A DAY IN THE LIFE

by David Brown

For the life of me I can't figure out how these people do it. I mean, hell, they live on the streets, don't have a pot to spit in yet they want to be clean.

EARLY TO BED, EARLY TO RISE, makes a person healthy, wealthy and wise or something like that. Who said that? I am almost positive that it was someone who had a very easy life. A life of comfort, where just about everything came easy. I bet it was someone who lived in a very nice home with a fireplace, dinner at six and a warm bed to sleep in. I wonder if who ever it was knew anybody like Sam.

Sam came on hard times recently. Actually, she was born with a mental health problem and it seems, everybody she came into contact with gently scooted her along. Sam was 37 years old and had no life skills at all. Nadda, none, zippo!! I came upon Sam yesternight and I was thoroughly disgusted. Oh no, not at Sam but at the system, dirty rotten scoundrel. Sam comes to the Service Center daily to take care of her personal hygiene. For the life of me I can't figure out how these people do it. I mean, hell, they live on the streets, don't have a pot to spit in yet they want to be clean. I don't understand it. Some even take two and even three showers a day.

Sam's easy to notice in a crowd. She has such an expression on her face that anyone looking would think that she is calculating the square root of cake or something like that. She has a very intelligent look about herself. When I first met her my heart went out to her. She's not alone but lonely. She's here but then again, she's not. She's one of the many people that have fallen through the cracks in this society.

It was about eleven o'clock when Sam passed by me on the street. She was walking carrying a clear plastic bag which she was using as a purse. What was interesting about this bag was it was stuffed with long green. Twenties, tens, five's. Bucks. Big bucks. I stopped to chat with her and inquired about the money she had in the bag. "Oh" she said. "That's nothing"I've already lost three hundred bucks!" Lost it? Lost it where? "I'm not quite sure," she said. "Somewhere" I most likely came on too strong because I took her by the arm and almost drug her inside to give her a stern lecture about the value of a dollar.

It seems that her payee, the person who has agreed to take some of the responsibility for her well-being, just gives her the entire amount of her SSI check. And what does she do? Ain't no telling. On the first of each month Sam has money. The day after, who knows but she's asking me for a cigarette. Damn!! Chevron cares but do people care?.

I gave Sam a bag to carry her money and other items in and suggested that she watch her money a little more closely. For some reason I was not surprised when she went out the back door and laid down on the lawn and fell right to sleep. Her purse she laid just above her head to tempt any passers by.

I saw Sam today and was genuinely pleased. She had survived another day in the life. If she can handle living on the streets, which is a very hard and difficult and trying lifestyle, can't she find a place in your heart?? Early to bed? Well Sam fell asleep in my yard again rather early and when the sun came up her smile was there to greet it. All that other early to bed, early to rise stuff is pure malarky.

(Ed. note: David Brown works at the Homeless Service Center in Santa Rosa. )