The Unhoused
By Lenore Thomas
“I just didn’t know people were living like that.”
My experience with the homeless population, now referred to as the unhoused, was limited at best. I just finished my year of service with the AmeriCorps VISTA program as Make-A-Day’s Fundraising and Donor Relations Coordinator. This opportunity has opened up a whole new world to me, one I never knew even existed.
Every week, I served alongside Make-a-Day (MAD) staff as we take our food truck to sites all around the city, to provide a hot meal and water. Thanks to the expert MAD chefs, hundreds of meals are served twice week to the unhoused. All ages come out for their meals. For some this may be their only meal for that day. My particular role is making sure the clients have water.
There are days where unfortunately we run out of food. Do you know what it’s like to have to turn to a hungry soul and tell them there is no food for them? I always leave these experiences saying to myself, that I am so thankful for my current situation. This has caused me to look upon my own dwelling with renewed appreciation. I don’t particularly like where I live, but at least I have a roof over my head.
I didn’t think I would ever see people in worst straights than those mentioned above until I did. MAD went to an encampment that was deep in a very wooded area. While I was not assigned to do this, I heard from those who went there, horror stories of the wretched conditions in which hundreds of people were living. Ticks could be seen everywhere as many cats and a few dogs ran around in the mud.
Some of the females looked like they had been beat up. With no bathroom facilities, the stench in the air was horrific. Most all the inhabitants were dirty, and so were their clothes. They lived in tents or tarps, or out in the open air. I could hardly believe what I was hearing. I figured Columbus had a homeless population, but nothing like this encampment. Some of the people came out of the encampment to get the free meal from the MAD food truck. I saw a lady with a huge lesion on her scalp and part of her head shaven. I learned a bus from a local hospital regularly visits the encampment with medical personnel to treat common maladies.
I know these experiences through MAD have changed me to be even more sensitive to the plight of the unhoused. When I go to sleep in my very comfortable, cozy bed or fall asleep on my couch I think about my outreach experiences. I think about the people I have seen and the situation at the encampment. I wonder how they do it? Some people had lived there for years, even decades.
Just the other day, I went online to do some online shopping, but an article caught my attention because the title was that a homeless man had been beaten to death by three people, one as young as twelve. The homeless man was kicked and punched by these youths over a period of hours. The victim died in the hospital four days later. This man had once been employed at the World Trade Center, only to be fired two months before 9/11. All his former coworkers had perished in the inferno. His sister said she was unaware of the circumstance that caused her brother to become homeless. I found that strange. I also found myself looking up this man’s obituary. I forgot about my online shopping for a while and became lost in thought about this man. His life had been what we would think of as normal. He went to school, embraced his Jewish faith, and it was noted how kind he was. He was the type who would help someone in need. He loved dogs. I quickly identified with him. He could escape the tragedy of 9/11, but not the tragedy of homelessness.
We all have a story. I wished I could know more about this victim because he mattered. He was a widow, who lost his wife when she was in Africa doing missionary work. He was just like you or me, living his life. And then he became homeless. The why bothers me. I am definitely more sensitive to those who have the least in our society. That victim could be any one of us. We all have the potential to one day be in his shoes.