Homeless for a Night

              

I wasn’t prepared for such an experience. I mean, I thought I was -- I layered up, had a comfy coat, oversized hoodie, hand warmers, and a hat. I brought a few dollars, a snack, and my driver’s license. My only goal was to be acutely available to the experience.

When I arrived, we began passing out comforters and care bags immediately. The Hilton Atlanta Northeast donated about 30 comforters the day before, we had blankets handy as well. I walked around the encampment, spoke with those willing to share their stories. Saw some in their rawest moments-- that I could never document. My primary focus was on sharing lives with those under the bridge.

This experience was a reminder that we are all specks in the universe seeking expression.    

The community we served were outside by choice, temporary circumstances, mental instability, or due to substance abuse. We spoke to a couple of vets, who told us that their monthly compensation was not enough to cover housing. They also informed us that past drug or alcohol abuse led them to the streets. There was a mentally ill woman who screamed and cursed at anything that smelled like charity. Needless to say, we kept our distance, then there was Timeserved.

Timeserved played the role of a landlord. He's been under the bridge the longest and refuses to leave. He feels an obligation to the current and future residents of the encampment. Timeserved toured us around their sleeping quarters, gave us the skinny on some of the residents, and spoke about others that had spent the night with them in the past.

After being there for several hours a woman approached the group, she was not from the encampment. She had oversized pants without a belt, no undergarments, and was visibly distressed. We fed her, gave her hot chocolate, a blanket, then sat with her. No questions were asked. At some point, she informed us that she did not have a place to go. Timeserved jumped at the opportunity to help. He grabbed a blanket and readied her a spot along the wall to sleep. Timeserved stayed awake as long as he could, cracking jokes and reassuring us that we were safe.   

Hypothermia can set in when the temperature drops below 50 degrees so layering is key. We started the evening in the 40s, at that time I was bright eyed and chatty. Eight hours into our stay, the only noise that could be heard was the wind blowing objects around us. We sat in chairs, wrapped in anything that would provide a barrier against the wind. 

The freezing chill in the air brought physical exhaustion; my feet were numb, tears flowed from my eyes, wind whipped water from my nose, teeth chattered, and my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. We sat as five, cozied around a propane heater trying to thaw our bodies; but five soon became four, which turned into three, then two... The air bared only coldness, everything became still, I was finally becoming sleepy.

It was 3am, I tried to escape the cold by meditating but I eventually fell asleep. I was in and out of sleep the last few hours as 6 o’clock approached. I wasn’t too proud of that because I wanted to stay awake for the full experience. Unbeknownst to me, this was the full experience. Living without a home is physically, mentally, and emotionally tiring. Now factor in the part about “living in the elements" too. Your need for sleep becomes greater, but your ability to get sleep is less. Which is why we see homeless people sleeping at different times throughout the day. 

The people under the Bell Street bridge were community driven, protective of us and one another, veterans, funny, and  inviting...some had substance abuse issues, others mentally ill, some were quiet, others lively. I know at least (1) person in my everyday life who possesses each of these characteristics or struggles. So what separates the people I know personally from those who sleep rough? Is it a roof over their head, a support system, or the tolerance (ahem, excuses) we have for those we love?  

I do not pretend to know what homelessness fully looks like after only a night outdoors. I wanted this experience so I could better advocate for those who are not heard. This will remain a vivid memory for the rest of my life. My only objective in sharing this is to ask that the next time you encounter a homeless person, stretch your mental capacity and offer eye contact, a "hello," maybe even a little small talk. We give more than that to our pets and strangers in Starbucks.

  ~ Ericka Cameron- Carr