Edward Lariano Faces Tough Times

By A. Forbes

 Edwardo Loriano was born in New York, raised in Chicago and came to Cleveland in 1986 with his mother and two sisters. Throughout his life he has been in 11 foster homes, 3 group homes, and 4 penitentiaries. The foster homes were all right but he didn’t like being away from his family. He lived in foster home in Toledo, Bowling green, West Virginia, and Kentucky.

The Phoenix Society of Cleveland was instrumental in helping him secure his housing by referring him to the Shelter Plus Care program. The Phoenix Society helped him compose a letter to reinforce his situation and the fact that he was a recovering addict, who was in receipt of Social Security benefits by not had secured housing. They saw that the potential for success was there, and the obstacles that were keeping him out of housing. He was being turned down continually because of policies from different housing agencies and landlords regarding felony convictions. This policy is very different since many individuals who are homeless, or who have mental health issue, or are living with AIDS have criminal records and therefore are automatically ineligible to apply for housing.

He sent Agency Staff and Shelter Plus another letter verifying that he was living in the area shelters, and proof on his Social Security award letter. He then sent all documents into the program on the 21^st of December and was accepted on the 5^th of February. He pays 30 percent of his income toward his rent and Shelter Plus pays an additional 70 percent.

Copyright for the Homeless Grapevine July 1999 Issue 36 Cleveland Ohio.

Arthur Price Vends Street Paper After Cancer

Arthur passed away in 2010by Mark Hopkins

         Between the vendors’ stands and the rear parking lot of the West Side Market, Arthur Price is working a double shift on a cold March morning, selling The Homeless Grapevine.

         Some passersby purchase a copy, others nod “Hello,” but no one seems to ignore the man in the green fatigue jacket and red wool cap, stroking his gray beard as he welcomes all comments and observations.

         Who would guess that he is a survivor of the city’s streets and, more recently, of prostate cancer? Or that he thanks God every day for granting him the opportunity of urging others to purchase the Homeless Grapevine? “It keeps me alive,” he says. “Otherwise, I’d be home, getting sicker, just watching TV.”

         He has not had an easy or an ordinary life. Both his mother and daughter died of cancer, and he had spent the last four years caring for his dying brother.

         For Arthur, life is all about maintaining a sense of optimism in the face of adversity. Selling the Homeless Grapevine is a part of that maintenance program: “It’s what gets me out of bed in the morning,” he remarks.

And that is something he has dedicated his time and energy to for over two years now.

         “It’s really saved my life,” he repeats. “Without this to look forward to, and without my wife, I’d be dead.”

          Arthur was born in Franklin County, outside of Columbus, in 1927. Because of family problems, he entered the Children’s Home, where he resided from 1939 until the mid -1940s. Homeless at 17, following the death of his mother, he worked sporadically, including jobs as a roofer, and, later, for the Volunteers of America on Cleveland’s West Side. It was during this time that he met his friend, Tony, who introduced him to the Northeast Ohio Coalition for the Homeless and the Homeless Grapevine.

         As we spoke, I could sense the strength of his enthusiasm and the urgency he musters about informing others about the plight of the homeless. He is confident in his belief that it is possible to find deliverance from the many mean streets of an often-uncaring city.

         “This morning, people said to me that I help make them feel good, like I am an enchanter or something. I love talking to people; I work here not for me, but for others, especially for my wife. If it weren’t for her, I couldn’t do this. I share the Homeless Grapevine with people to help make them aware of the homeless, to remind them so they know we’re here. If you pass a Homeless Grapevine vendor, remember, don’t just pass by, buy a copy or listen to that person’s story.”

For Arthur Price, survival is all about optimism.

         “It’s all with the Lord,” he said, just as on this Saturday morning, by way of example, he said his wife was concerned that he may not hear the alarm at 5:00 a.m. because of an electrical problem. His response? “The Lord will wake me up.”

         It was uplifting to meet such an approachable and inspiring person as Arthur Price. He was forthcoming, demonstrative, and unapologetic about the hard and winding road. He’d taken to bring him home. He is glad to be alive and to be doing such purposeful work.                            The homeless are not anonymous, he says; they have their faces, their histories, and their stories. And Arthur’s story is one of many that confront the question of persistence and survival. He gives us hope. He helps us to realize that homeless people are not just the people we see sleeping under a bridge as we drive across on our way downtown or the anonymous people who huddle in the crevice of an overpass, all of their worldly belongings strewn about them.

         This morning at the West Side Market, amid the din of the cacophonous, foreign voices, Arthur’s voice is clear: These people, the homeless, those who may who have fallen beneath the radar of hope deserve a chance to find a home. And home, as has been so often said, is where the heart is.

         Arthur Price exudes the confidence of a survivor and is a man who wants to share the story of that survival. The city’s streets won’t present an argument for defeat: they’ll present a welcome challenge born of the confidence, of hope for a better future and the faith that deliverance may be forthcoming.

         The city may possess sadness and defeat, but it also holds the springs of hope flowing beneath its hard streets, which hope that is said to ever spring Eternal.

  Copyright for the Homeless Grapevine Cleveland Ohio published April 2003 Issue 60

Cincinnati Woman Partying Led to Homelessness

Commentary by Elizabeth Shockley

            You couldn’t have told me five years ago that I would have ended up at the door of the Drop Inn Center (Cincinnati's main shelter) for any help. Not me.

            You see, I was out partying with some so-called dear friends. However, when the money, the alcohol, and the drugs were gone, they had no use for Liz, so they put me in the street in the middle of the night.

            I was a complete mess. I was only going to stay overnight at the shelter; it was around the Christmas holidays in 1995. And, you know - I ended up staying for five to six months.

            Buddy (Gray), Gail (Holley), and Kathy (Nolan, more recently working at a shelter in Kentucky) talked to me as if they had known me all my life, and I give a lot of gratitude to them for helping me find myself and getting in touch with my Higher Power and AA and NA programs once again.

            After staying for almost six months, I worked and went to AA and NA meetings; and I saved my money through the 50-50 plan at the Drop Inn Center while I was staying there.

            I was able to accept responsibilities and get on with my life. I got an apartment through ReSTOC, a low-income housing corporation connected with the Drop Inn Center (which helps with the homeless.) You see, I was not only homeless, per se, but also “lost.”

            So, I want to thank my so-called friends for that night and for my new life - for throwing me out in the middle of the night.

            There is more in me to be forgiven than in any of you. I think I must be rather like the woman who loved much because she was forgiven much. And, as my grandma always says, “God loves you and so do I.”

            I’m going on two years of recovery today, “one day at a time.” And, by the grace of God, I truly want to thank God, whom I choose as my Higher Power, the Drop Inn Center, ReStoc, AA and NA, and the prayers and love from my mother and grandmother for my new life today.

Happy New Year. Thank you.

Former IRS Agent Becomes Homeless

By Ellen Kriz

Perhaps one moment during my interview with Deborah E. Lettau sums up her experience with homelessness most concisely: “People make judgments about the places and people you associate with. Sometimes people will assume the worst. Some people want to assume the worst, and they don’t always want to let you forget about it either.” She paused briefly as her face brightened and her tone lightened: “But we don’t want to dwell on that.” Like many who have experienced homelessness, Debbie has been unfairly labeled and stigmatized. Nevertheless, she has overcome an onslaught of adversity and has directed her energy toward helping others turn their lives around. She has learned that “it’s not so much your money, but the quality of the time that you spend.”

Debbie was born in the Old Brooklyn area of Cleveland, the only child of an accountant and a comptometer operator. She was hired by the IRS as a file clerk and typist in February of 1974, and after nearly thirty years there, she was suspended in November 2001. Debbie did not go into much depth about what happened at the IRS; she was influenced by the wrong people, and by late January 2003, as Debbie lived without income, the IRS still had not decided if she could have her job back. She resigned in February 2003 for financial reasons. Debbie reflected that one would not expect a person who works for the IRS, a relatively steady government job, to be homeless. She emphasized that “back in the day” you’d think you could work for the IRS until you wanted to retire, but times have changed. Indeed, the loss of her long-term job was just the beginning of many difficulties for Debbie.

Debbie candidly discussed her struggles with alcohol abuse. She made a point of noting that she never used crack cocaine and that she has been sober since December 2002. She was also the victim of emotional abuse from a partner and his son who were involved with alcohol and drugs. They made it difficult for her to achieve sobriety and drained her accounts. Debbie admitted how dangerous her life could be at times: “I’ve been in situations where if the results were different, I could be in jail, prison, in the hospital, or dead.” For instance, her partner’s son was pulled over in her car at around 2 or 3 a.m. in the Bellaire Gardens area one night. A neighbor drove her and her partner to the area to pick up the car, and as they were walking, they were tackled by a few individuals who wanted to rob them. Before the attackers let them go, Debbie was hit in the head with a loaded 9 millimeter gun.

Debbie soon faced poverty again as she suffered through her abusive relationship and other difficult circumstances.  Her father was struck with dementia and her mother developed Alzheimer’s; both had to be admitted to a nursing home. She also became the victim of a predatory lender who did not contact her first or second mortgage companies about the loan. After struggling to make her payments, she lost her home of twenty years. Her parents died within two years of each other as Debbie dealt with failing mental health and threats to her sobriety. In 2004, while she was living with her partner’s mother after a period of rental housing, she fled to Alcoholics Anonymous. According to Debbie, it was a “running away from home” of sorts. She spoke highly of AA and her experiences there. She learned that she is responsible for her actions, even good intentions that were misguided. In the meantime, Debbie stayed at a friend’s house and worked at a party center and a thrift store. She resided at a facility run by the Salvation Army until she could be admitted to the West Side Catholic Shelter, a women’s and children’s home. Eventually, she entered transitional housing in 2006. Although Debbie faced homelessness in this period of her life, she also learned more about herself, the effects of domestic abuse, and how helping others can heal. Her fresh outlook was apparent as we spoke. She has accepted that some circumstances were out of her control, that she cannot change what happened, and perhaps most of all, that she “can’t change other people.”

Now Debbie has devoted most of her time giving back to the community and making God her first priority. She currently lives in a CMHA building close to her former home and attends services at Bethany English Lutheran. She also works at a men’s group home in Old Brooklyn. Many of the men have physical and/or mental disabilities, and have dealt with alcohol or drug abuse in the past. Debbie helps provide meals and other housing services. She also ensures that the men take their medication properly and are devoted to “straightening up their acts.” She fondly related how much she enjoys joking with her residents and getting to know them. Debbie is also involved with Transitional Housing Inc. (THI), the Women’s Outreach Center, and NEOCH’s Homeless Congress. To keep her new life in perspective, Debbie realizes that “God’s grace” has kept her alive and continues to work through her. It is no wonder that one of her favorite songs to sing is “Amazing Grace.”

In the future, Debbie wants to find a full-time position, possibly in the accounting field. Her daughter, Erica, is continuing her education at Cleveland State University, while Debbie hopes that maybe a third marriage “will be the charm.” Debbie also loves to write poetry. She has published work in the past, and has recently submitted work to the Lakewood Library. If her poem is chosen for the new artwork at the library, she will receive a $200 gift card to Players on Madison. Debbie chuckled as she quipped, “That might be the answer: I’m gonna get to have some lamb chops. It’s been a long time. That would be a treat.”

Another Look at Raymond the Vendor

By Bernadette Janes

NEOCH Volunteer

            Before Raymond Jacobs became a vendor for the Homeless Grapevine, his varied careers were packed into one lifetime like pieces of an old southern parlor game.  It all started in 1947 in New Orleans, Louisiana, with an Ethiopian mother and a white German-Jewish father.  Growing up in the South Half-black and half white was not easy.  Within the multiple hues of that population, Raymond was categorized as Creole.

            After finishing high school, Raymond and six buddies, all of them seventeen years of age celebrated their freedom b going on a fateful lark. Swilling down quarts of cheap wine, they ran, screaming, through startled neighborhoods, and suddenly found themselves in front of a Marine Corps recruiting office.  Deeply inebriated, they decided it might be fun to drop in and visit a while.  With the Vietnam War going on at the time, the group of robust seventeen-year-olds looked like fresh meat to the Recruiting Officer on duty.

            He welcomed them in and immediately began pouring Jack Daniels whisky into them, regaling them with promises of fantastic benefits if they would enlist.  By the time the started for home, they understood nothing of the import of papers the recruiting officer thrust into their hands for their parents to sign.  All the parents signed the papers readily and sent them in.  Days later, stone sober and realizing the depth of the hole they had fallen into, the boys tried to get the papers back, with no success.

             They were now United Sates Marines!  As soon as Raymond reached age, he was sent to Camp Pendleton for Boot Camp.  In Vietnam through 1965 and early 1966, he participated in heavy combat.  Fighting on Ho Chi Min Trail, he caught a barrage of sniper fire.  It bored a deep hole in his right shoulder, which remains open and will forever remind him of Vietnam.

            Back in the U.S., Raymond tried hard to find a job, but jobs were scarce everywhere.  However, his younger brother was making money-pulling robberies and invited Raymond to join him.  Raymond became a lookout for his brother’s gang.  Eventually, he found a partner and became a robber himself.  His victims didn’t know the gun he displayed was empty, because he never wanted to hurt anyone.  All he wanted was money to live on.  For a few years, things went well, and he collected thousands of dollars, but in 1968 he was caught, convicted and spend the next 26 years in prison.  Fate again dealt him a bit of irony in the fact that his booking officer turned to be his own father.

             Released in 1994, Raymond’s life took a radical turn.  Again faced with the need for money, he started panhandling on the streets.  Then, to his surprise, a new aptitude developed with him.  Always an alert and observant person, he began to catch purse-snatchers in the act.  Returning purses to their frightened owners, he felt warmth emanating for grateful people, warmth he had rarely experienced in his earlier life.  In time, he also became adept at finding lost wallets, cashiers checks, money orders, and whatever other valuables people unknowingly dropped on the streets.  Raymond became known in the community for his skill and concern for others.  He thus earned tremendous gratitude and appreciation from the many people whose lost or stolen items would never have been returned to them, but for his quick intelligent actions.

            Never married, Raymond has lived the past twelve years with a companion whose stolen purse he recovered and returned to her.  He rues the circumstances, which led him into the robberies, but realizes it was only for survival, not because of a desire to frighten anyone.  He’s glad to be where he is at this time, known and welcomed in the community, and keeping a steady schedule as a vendor of the Grapevine.  Like his father, he embraces the Jewish religion, keeps the Sabbath on Saturday, and stays in tough with his Rabbi.  He now looks forward to the future a feeling that is new to him, for he knows nothing will ever be a heart stopping as all he experienced in the past.  Ready to take on whatever comes, he knows he’s made it through the bad, the good, and the in between, and after all the detours he took, and all the mishaps he stumbled into, he has finally arrived, and his whole self intact, at his true and natural way of life.

Originally published in the Homeless Grapevine Issue #85 in July-August 2008 Cleveland Ohio.