The Word on the Street

Statistics compiled by LAURA WALDCHEN, Junior Technical Journalism Student

On any given night in America, anywhere from 700,000 to 2 million people are homeless, according to estimates of the National Law Center on Homelessness and Poverty.

According to a December, 2000 report of the US Conference of Mayors:

* Single men comprise 44 percent of the homeless, single women 13 percent, families with children 36 percent, and unaccompanied minors seven percent.

* The homeless population is about 50 percent African-American, 35 percent white, 12 percent Hispanic, 2 percent Native American and 1 percent Asian.

According to the 1996 National Survey of Homeless Assistance Providers and Clients (NSHAPC):

* Single homeless individuals in 1996 reported an average income of $348 during the last 30 days, about 51 percent of the 1996 federal poverty level of $680/month for one person.

* 28 percent said they sometimes or often do not get enough to eat, compared with 12 percent of poor American adults.

* 44 percent did paid work during the past month.

* 21 percent received income from family members or friends.

* 66 percent of the homeless have problems with alcohol, drug abuse, or mental illness.

* 22 percent have been physically assaulted.

* 7 percent have been sexually assaulted.

* 38 percent say someone stole money or things directly from them.

* 30 percent have been homeless for more than two years.

By BEN AAKER, Senior Technical Journalism Major

FORT COLLINS, Colo.—Sally Baker pulls her left sleeve up to her elbow to reveal the scars of her self-inflicted wounds.

“You eventually get tired of the struggle, the constant pain,” says Baker who claims to have attempted suicide twice in the past month.

Baker, 46, is homeless. She has lived in Fort Collins for 10 years, but has been homeless for the past two years. She became homeless when a neck injury rendered her disabled and incapable of working.

Baker receives $230 a month for low-income medical care but maintains that it’s not enough to cover her food and medical needs.

“I don’t need a lot of money. From living on the streets I’ve learned how to deal without certain things like food,” Baker said.

Baker claims to have gone up to four days without eating a single meal.

“I only eat when my body tells me I need it,” Baker said.

Baker is also an alcoholic and claims she drinks daily to alleviate her chronic neck pain.

“I use (alcohol) for pain medicine because I can’t afford my real medicine,” Baker said. “It makes me numb.”

According to Baker, she’s not the only homeless person who is an alcoholic.

“I’m telling you that everybody in that park over there is an alcoholic,” said Baker, referring to a large group of homeless people in Hobo Park. “I haven’t met a homeless person that wasn’t.”

As winter rapidly approaches, Baker fears how the cold conditions will affect her and the community. She fears that the alcohol-free policies of many of the shelters will force several alcoholics to grind their way through the winter on the streets.

“There’s gonna be people sleeping out in the cold. The alcohol is a problem with them getting into the shelters, but it shouldn’t be. They need to let them in because it’s cold outside,” said Baker.

Sadly, just two days after Sally Baker sat down and spoke with us about her struggles as a homeless person and an alcoholic, she was taken to the hospital due to alcohol-related seizures. Still, she remains in the ICU and her condition is unstable.

by MATTHEW PUCAK, Senior Technical Journalism Major

Living on the streets, ducking “Johnny Law Dog,” is a life that makes you fear the name you were given at birth.

For Red Bone, 48, a homeless Fort Collins man, hearing his family name spoken usually means trouble is near.

“The only people who call me by my real name are the police, or my mom,” said Red Bone. “All my friends, all my buddies, all my bro’s, all my sisters, they call me ‘Red Bone.’ If Dog could speak, she would call me Red Bone.”

Dog is the name of Red Bone’s constant companion, something he cherishes much more than a pet.

“She is my best friend. She’s the love of my life,” he said.

Red Bone has called Fort Collins home for most of his life, and he has been homeless off and on now for four years.

He ended up on the streets as the result of his addiction to alcohol and an accident that injured his back, rendering him unable to work construction.

“I was framing one day and it was as much anyone’s fault as mine and I took a fall off a wall and landed on some lumber,” he said, describing the accident. “It screwed up the last two disks in my back.”

He claims Occupational Saftey and Health Administration said the accident was his fault because he wasn’t because he wasn’t tied on, but Red Bone argued that he would have been hurt regardless.

Being without consistent work left him without a roof over his head.

“I am a drinker. I don’t have any problems admitting it. I’m an alcoholic,” he said.

He knows his “health is crap” and his “future doesn’t look too bright.”

The drinking is a way of self-medicating without paying the high costs of prescription pain pills, common for people without insurance, but the biggest health risk for Red Bone now are the alcohol-related seizures he has to endure.

“I go through seizures now, and I never used to go through them. My very first was two or three years ago, and it scared the holy fuck out of me. I didn’t know what it was, but I have had 10-to-15 since then.”

While Red Bone one day dreams of escaping society to live in a secluded cabin, for now his needs are much simpler.

“I just want a place to sleep without being hassled by the cops,” he said.

By BEN AAKER, Senior Technical Journalism Major

Tony “Too Tall” Neighbors is a proud father, a college graduate and sings in the choir at First United Methodist church. He also served two duties in Vietnam and speaks four languages.

Too Tall also happens to be homeless, epileptic and unable to afford his medication. He has spent nearly a year now making his way on the streets, suffering through painful seizures and uncontrollable shaking.

“Sometimes I can’t even sleep because I start twitching,” said Too Tall just moments after he was silenced due to a sequence of uncontrolled spasms.

A year ago, Too Tall had lived in his own home and was able to afford food and medication.

“My house had a fridge, a washer and dryer, and a kitchen I could cook in. It was nice,” Too Tall said.

However, a two and a half-year-old warrant sent him to jail for 16 days. When he was released, everything was gone, claims Too Tall.

“I tried my best to be on top but I lost everything,” said Too Tall with a tear dripping down his face. “It hurts starting all over again.”

Perhaps one of the most troubling issues for Too Tall is the prejudice he faces on a daily bases as an African-American homeless male.

“I’m so tired of people accusing me because of the color of my skin,” Too Tall said. “Just before you came, I was accused of putting someone else in jail—I didn’t even know them.”

Too Tall’s friend “Red Dog” agrees that there is a heightened racial tension among some in the homeless community.

“I used to be racist, but now (Too Tall) is my brother. Skin color doesn’t matter anymore,” Red Dog said.

Too Tall told of his service in the U.S. Air Force, boasting of the Silver Star that he received in Vietnam.

“I’ve been shot twice and stabbed in my back for this country,” said Too Tall. “And this is the thanks I get? Thrown out like this on the streets?”

Amongst the tears, Too Tall pleaded for someone to here his cries.

“I’m a lost soldier. I wish someone could understand. Someone. Anyone,” Too Tall said.

By LAURA WALDCHEN, Junior Technical Journalism Student

"People are more than willing to pay for their healthcare, they just simply can't pay $1,000 out of pocket each month for basic coverage," said Jennifer Morse, development director for Salud Family Healthcare. "Here at Salud we serve anyone in need of care, regardless of their ability to pay."

Salud Family Healthcare, a comprehensive care health clinic with 10 centers across Colorado, provided care to 67,000 people in 2005. They are a non-profit organization funded under the public health service act and run by a board to directors.

Their mission is to reduce the barriers and increase access to care, and all of their services reflect that focus. For instance, they offer culturally appropriate care to reduce barriers, and evening hours to increase access.

Morse said their target population is families at 200% of the poverty level, which is currently about $41,000 a year for a family of four.

"We make the assumption that you don't have the level of income to afford insurance, or your source of employment is not providing full benefits," Morse said.

After working with each patient to qualify them for as much government aid as possible, Salud looks at a sliding scale based on family size and family income to determine copay.

Salud's Fort Collins center is on target to serve about 11,00 patients this year, its largest number since opening.

"We provide care to people that wouldn't get it anywhere else," Morse said. "They come to us because they don't have any other option for healthcare."

By MATTHEW PUCAK, Senior Technical Journalism Major

Often it is one accident or illness that seems to doom a poverty-stricken person to a life of homelessness.

Too Tall suffers from epilepsy, which forced him out of his job as a cook.

Sally Baker and Red Bone both suffered injuries that left them in pain and unable to work.

All three never expected, or dreamed, of ever being homeless, but they are all now living day-to-day on the streets, sleeping in bushes or abandoned cars, scraping for food and drinking away the pain.

Amy Pezzani is the executive director of the Food Bank for Larimer County, a non-profit organization that shares and distributes food for those in or near poverty, and she sees just how many people in Larimer County are barely able to scrape by every month.

Additionally, she empathizes with their position after being stretched so tight on her own budget that she was on food stamps for a couple of years while paying for her own college education.

“I know that a lot of the people we are serving are doing the best that they can. They are working, or they are retired and they are too old to work, and they are receiving a very fixed income. I understand what it is like to live on that,” she said.

The problems are not just with those that are too old or below the poverty line.
According to a CSU study conducted last year, half of the individuals who use the Food Bank have no health insurance, leaving them open to situations where one accident or illness can push them past their limits and out of their homes.

Pezzani said this is especially troubling for parents.

“If you break your arm, you’ve got all sorts of X-ray expenses, doctor’s expenses. Or your kid does that, or gets sick, or God forbid has to be hospitalized overnight, then the cost is astronomical. It is hard to recover from that.”

The ones that don’t recover are left to their own devices, and they can’t care for themselves.

For the homeless, life becomes a battle, and every day could be your last.

“It’s about survival,” Baker said, and it was just two days following the interview before she was in the ICU, fighting for her life.