Once, in the mid-eighties, I was assigned a unique job: The Bum Patrol. I was to count all the "homeless" in the Naples area. The purpose was to evaluate the magnitude of the problem, which everyone knew was growing. It was an education.
First thing I found out was that most of these folks were not victims of the economy or misfortune. They were homeless because they chose to be. They were bums. There was a good infrastructure in place for legitimate homeless people, with the Salvation Army leading the list. Also, several church and privately sponsored programs. Many bums, however, wouldn't go near these help projects because they found something very unsavory about them: they wanted you to work. To help yourself. To hell with that.
And not all were bums, without means of support. A large number were dropouts, folks fed up with everything: family, job, the works. Among these we found two retired cops, on pensions, who lived in the woods because they were sick of society. Seen too much. Another guy was a former chef for the Ritz Carlton. Several had been business people. And many were construction workers who would come to Naples in the winter from frozen-out northern jobs. They lived in tents and travel trailers in the woods to save money. They would set up a respectable, though illegal, camp and never cause any problems.
Naples is a favorite spot for bums. We found several with travel guides they had been given in shelters in Washington, D.C. that told how to find Naples and what to do when they got here. Such as, go the St. Vincent De Paul and get free cookware and a chit for free breakfast at the White House Restaurant. St. Matthews House will give you free meals, no questions asked. You can camp in a wooded lot near there. You can go such and such and get free clothes. Go to the ER for free medical care. And they were provided directions to prime camping areas, such as near stores, beside a beautiful pond.
We found several large camps with fifty or more folks living there. Found out they had homemade warning devices to let them know when someone was coming. This was usually a dried palmetto frond, laying in the path. Stepping on it made a loud crunch. Some used beer cans strung on a fishing leader. Hit the lines, the cans would jangle.
Many were enterprising. They'd steal enough construction materials to build lean-to's. One even had a four-poster bed, a sofa, and chairs. Many had lawn chairs stolen from folk's yards.
But, ah, for the romantic, vagabond life. Well, not quite as we'll see in Part 2.
First thing I found out was that most of these folks were not victims of the economy or misfortune. They were homeless because they chose to be. They were bums. There was a good infrastructure in place for legitimate homeless people, with the Salvation Army leading the list. Also, several church and privately sponsored programs. Many bums, however, wouldn't go near these help projects because they found something very unsavory about them: they wanted you to work. To help yourself. To hell with that.
And not all were bums, without means of support. A large number were dropouts, folks fed up with everything: family, job, the works. Among these we found two retired cops, on pensions, who lived in the woods because they were sick of society. Seen too much. Another guy was a former chef for the Ritz Carlton. Several had been business people. And many were construction workers who would come to Naples in the winter from frozen-out northern jobs. They lived in tents and travel trailers in the woods to save money. They would set up a respectable, though illegal, camp and never cause any problems.
Naples is a favorite spot for bums. We found several with travel guides they had been given in shelters in Washington, D.C. that told how to find Naples and what to do when they got here. Such as, go the St. Vincent De Paul and get free cookware and a chit for free breakfast at the White House Restaurant. St. Matthews House will give you free meals, no questions asked. You can camp in a wooded lot near there. You can go such and such and get free clothes. Go to the ER for free medical care. And they were provided directions to prime camping areas, such as near stores, beside a beautiful pond.
We found several large camps with fifty or more folks living there. Found out they had homemade warning devices to let them know when someone was coming. This was usually a dried palmetto frond, laying in the path. Stepping on it made a loud crunch. Some used beer cans strung on a fishing leader. Hit the lines, the cans would jangle.
Many were enterprising. They'd steal enough construction materials to build lean-to's. One even had a four-poster bed, a sofa, and chairs. Many had lawn chairs stolen from folk's yards.
But, ah, for the romantic, vagabond life. Well, not quite as we'll see in Part 2.
No comments:
Post a Comment