There's one group of these romantic vagabonds we failed to mention; criminals, psychopaths, every deviate and disreputable on the dodge. Presenting a threat to the public, they could also be deadly to their fellow "campers." Preying on the weak, any loner who hadn't allied himself with another bum, could count on being robbed or beaten at will.
Ever wonder why these folks carry all their clothes around on them, worn in layers, and tote all their belongings in a purloined WalMart cart? Have to. Anything left back at their camp, is long gone.
The most common malady was alcoholism. Every camp we raided featured a huge mound of discarded beer cans. For most, all activity for the day centered around scrounging enough money to buy enough booze to set things right. Begging was popular. One bum, you had to admire, shunned the signs displayed by many: Will Work For Food. (They wouldn't) Vet Needs A Hand. Hungry, Please Help. He sported a sign that proclaimed: Why Lie. I Need A Drink! And he collected more coins than anyone else!
Some were entrepreneurs. One character, Frank Allen, was from a reputable local family, but had gone astray in his teen years and gradually drifted from the jail to the woods. Frank set up a clandestine bicycle shop off Halderman Creek, where a bum could buy a stolen bike at a bargain price or have minor repairs made. He would also barter, trading his wares for stolen booze or whatever. He operated several years before he was discovered and added to the jail population.
That was over thirty-years ago. I counted about 1200 critters in the Naples area. Best I can tell, it hasn't changed a damn bit today.
Ever wonder why these folks carry all their clothes around on them, worn in layers, and tote all their belongings in a purloined WalMart cart? Have to. Anything left back at their camp, is long gone.
The most common malady was alcoholism. Every camp we raided featured a huge mound of discarded beer cans. For most, all activity for the day centered around scrounging enough money to buy enough booze to set things right. Begging was popular. One bum, you had to admire, shunned the signs displayed by many: Will Work For Food. (They wouldn't) Vet Needs A Hand. Hungry, Please Help. He sported a sign that proclaimed: Why Lie. I Need A Drink! And he collected more coins than anyone else!
St. Matthew's House had to be the Four Seasons Restaurant of Bumdom. Bums from all over the country could tell you about it and give you helpful hints. There's a field nearby where you can camp. Or just roost in one of the neighbor's hedges.
This generated a minor crime wave. Homeowners near the nests found anything left untethered was soon gone. No bicycle was safe. Mail boxes were raided. Cars B&E'd. And in nearby stores, shoplifting doubled.
This generated a minor crime wave. Homeowners near the nests found anything left untethered was soon gone. No bicycle was safe. Mail boxes were raided. Cars B&E'd. And in nearby stores, shoplifting doubled.
Some were entrepreneurs. One character, Frank Allen, was from a reputable local family, but had gone astray in his teen years and gradually drifted from the jail to the woods. Frank set up a clandestine bicycle shop off Halderman Creek, where a bum could buy a stolen bike at a bargain price or have minor repairs made. He would also barter, trading his wares for stolen booze or whatever. He operated several years before he was discovered and added to the jail population.
That was over thirty-years ago. I counted about 1200 critters in the Naples area. Best I can tell, it hasn't changed a damn bit today.
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