What's it like to be a homeless senior living on the streets of Pasadena?

What's it like to be a homeless senior living on the streets of Pasadena? According to the

Sleeping in Memorial Park

latest homeless count, there are 80 homeless seniors in our City. I wanted to get a taste of what it is  like to be over 65 and sleeping outside. (I will be turning 69 in another month.)  Joe Bautista, the emcee for our Palm Sunday Peace Parade, invited me to join him sleeping out in a park on Good Friday, and I decided to accept his invitation.

To prepare myself spiritually for this experience, I went to the Good Friday service at All Saints. This seemed fitting since Jesus was essentially homeless. "Foxes have lairs and birds have nests," said Jesus to someone who wanted to be his follower, "But the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head" (Matt 8:20).

On the night that Jesus was betrayed and arrested, he and his followers camped out doors at a park in Jerusalem called the "Garden of Gesthemane." Jesus would probably have been arrested in Pasadena since sleeping in the park is illegal!

With Jesus in mind, Joe and I walked from All Saints to Old Pasadena where we planned to distribute flyers about the South Heritage Square project to house homeless seniors. Joe told me that he had slept outdoors a couple of times during Lent, to see what it was like. I told him that right after college, I decided to follow in the footsteps of Jack Kerouac and went on the road as a "dharma bum." I wrote poetry, hitchhiked, and often slept outdoors or "crashed" in homes of friends. It was an adventure that gave me first-hand experience in what it's like to be homeless.

On our way to the commercial heart of our city, we encountered an elderly African American man that Joe knew from Centennial Place,, a permanent supportive housing facility on Holly Street with 142 single room occupancy (SRO) apartments for very low-income adults. 

"Hi, Edward," Joe called out.

Edward just smiled shyly. 

We walked over to him and asked him how he was doing

"I just went to a concert at Pasadena Presbyterian Church," he said in a barely audible voice. "I heard Brahm's requiem. It was very beautiful."

He showed us the program and smiled.

I told him I'd just been to a beautiful service at All Saints, and he said, "I remember you. You and your wife used to attend the homeless service at the Presbyterian Church."

It's true: Jill and I used to go to this lovely Sunday night service on a regular basis. It brought

together around 30 homeless and housed people for worship and a shared meal. We got to know a lot of homeless people through this program and some of them accompanied us to City Hall when we advocated on their behalf. 

I shared with Edward about our campaign to ensure that the South Heritage Square

property be used to house 69 homeless seniors. He smiled approvingly.

""Would you be willing to go to City Council and speak in favor of this project?" I asked giving him the letter I sent to the City Council about sleeping out on the street on behalf of housing homeless seniors. 

"Certainly," he said. We exchanged contact info and agreed to stay in touch.

Joe and I then went to Old Pasadena where we encountered a less friendly response. After

fortifying ourselves at Yogurtland, we reached out to passersby, telling them that we were trying to help homeless seniors to  be housed. People rushed past us as if we didn't exist.

After an hour or so, it became pretty clear that the pleasure-seekers in Old Pasadena weren't terribly interested in social justice. I didn't see any of them pay attention to the homeless people who were lying on the sidewalk. It was as if they (and we) didn't exist. 

By 11:00 pm, we were getting weary and so we trekked over to Memorial Park to find a place to bed down for the night. When we arrived, we checked out a sign that listed all the things you are forbidden to do at the park. It didn't include "camping out," but we knew sleeping in the park wasn't legal, so we looked for a place where we could sleep unseen. We found a building on the east side of the park that we could sleep behind. It seemed like a cozy spot so Joe and I rolled out our mats and sleeping beds. 

Around midnight we joined by a Mennonite woman named Cathy who has done volunteer work on behalf of homeless people for many years and wanted to know what it was like to sleep outside. Being a woman, she didn't want to be alone, so she appreciated our company.

We quickly learned that we had not chosen an ideal location for sleeping. We were right next to the Gold Line tracks and every fifteen minutes or so a train went by, waking us up with its loud clamor. At 2:00 am, when the bars closed, Old Pasadena revelers started coming to the station, raising an unbelievable ruckus. We didn't get much sleep.

The band shell at Memorial Park

At 6:00 am, I got up and started exploring the park. I found two homeless men sleeping in the band shell. This is a much better location since it is sheltered somewhat from the noise of the trains

Joe and Cathy woke up a little while later. I asked Cathy about herself and she shared an amazing story about a homeless man who made a huge difference in her life.

"I was volunteering in a homeless shelter in DC," she explained. "And I met another man who was volunteering. He had been a successful businessman and had a drinking problem and ended up on the streets, homeless. He would go to the Library of Congress to read and there he met a woman who fell in love with him. They got married. It turns out she had a lot of money and passed away, leaving him a rich man. When he learned that I was going to nursing school but was short on funds, he gave me $10,000."

This confirms what I have always felt and experienced. Homeless people often have

potential and gifts we cannot imagine. I recommended a book that Jill and I loved, "Out There," by Denise Blue. This amazing book vividly describes how  Denise, a teacher and writer living in Sausalito, became homeless and spent ten years on the streets of Santa Barbara and San Francisco. Her life spiraled down due to alcoholism and mental illness. She found herself under the sway of an abusive man who beat her to the point that she became so listless she was nicknamed "The Zombie." Thanks to an African American woman who prayed for her and urged her to go to a shelter for battered woman, Denise found her way back home to South Pasadena where her parents helped her to get the help she needed. She is now back teaching and has written a series of books. When we contacted her, she invited us to lunch with her the Athenaeum, a stately "members-only" restaurant at Cal Tech. Thanks to family connections, Denise is a member. Over lunch, she told us about a new book she is writing about visionary poets, including my favorite, William Blake. Denise went from being a "zombie" to an author and  visionary. Talk about a resurrection! 

You can read my  review of her book at https://laquaker.blogspot.com/2016/08/out-there-homeless-years-by-denise-blue.html

You never know the back story of people on the street. Many are amazing people, as I know from experience. But even if they are not as gifted as Denise, each one is a precious jewel in the sight of God. And each one deserves decent housing.

I am glad that I spent the night in Memorial Park, but it took me a while to recover from a sleepless night. My body felt wretched all day, but my soul was content. I felt that I had grown a little closer to Jesus and to my homeless brothers and sisters.