The Meanest Streets in the United States

A brief overview of some Anti-Homeless legislation as compiled by the

National Law Center on Homelessness and Poverty

The National Law Center looked at 49 cities and the legislation that impacts the homeless. The report states that all of the anti-homeless actions detailed in this report are inhumane, poor policy, and ultimately ineffective - and so equally deserving of condemnation.

But among the cities analyzed, some stand out particularly for having the "meanest streets", either for their clear intention simply to expel their homeless residents from their city limits or for the concerted, focused, often highly politicized efforts undertaken against their homeless residents: Santa Monica's ordinances which ensure that there is no public place where homeless people can sleep have had their intended effect of forcing homeless people to leave. The City has also passed laws to prevent private individuals from distributing food to hungry people while capping City spending on services to homeless people. Santa Ana continues to try to rid itself of homeless people - its official policy since 1988 - despite having paid damages to settle two lawsuits and having lost two other legal challenges to its anti-homeless policies.

Cleveland police officers pursued a policy of driving homeless people from downtown areas to remote industrial areas and leaving them there. Depositions are now being taken in the case by police, the homeless and advocates.

San Francisco conducted a campaign of harassment against its homeless citizens through a combination of neighborhood sweeps, passage of anti-homeless laws and selective enforcement - resulting in between 11,000 and 22,500 citations in a little over a year. Seattle vigorously enforced its sidewalk and trespass laws, which prevent homeless people from even sitting down to rest in public downtown areas in an effort to keep homeless people away from downtown businesses.

The Homeless Grapevine will remain vigilant about laws that impact the homeless around the country and will comment upon them periodically.

Copyright by the Homeless Grapevine Issue 11, August-September 1995, Cleveland, Ohio

Selfless Act Ends in Tragedy

by Jennifer Weir

According to co-workers, Anthony Ricks was a well-liked man. His wife, Teresa Ricks, characterized him as a loving man who wanted the best for his family. besides being a husband and a full-time father of three children, he worked three jobs – as a security guard, with a mobile crisis team, and as an assistant at the Bishop Cosgrove meal site.

On the evening of June 3, 1995, according to police reports, Ricks picked up a man whom he thought was in need. His wife said it was natural for Ricks to help someone. “Tony had a very open heart and felt, O.K. this gentleman’s in need or maybe he needs a place to sleep, or he just needs a ride “cause he’s tired. He just opened his heart and gave it,” said Mrs. Ricks. The individual offered a ride took out a gun to rob Ricks. There was a struggle inside the car and both men were shot. Ricks later died from the gunshot wounds.

Rick’s coworkers describe him as an independently hard-working man, someone who was a kind and decent individual. Richard Oliver, program manager of the Adult Mobile Crisis Intervention Team, recalled Rick’s ability to “balance the team with supportive interactions” through his love of helping others.

Cynthia Chaytor, also of the Adult Mobile Crisis Intervention Team recalls how “Tony would bring pastries to work every night, never asking for anything in return. He was just that kind of guy.” She characterized this small act of kindness as an example of Ricks’ constant generosity.

Ron Reinhart from the Bishop Cosgrove Center said, “Anthony believed work and dedication was what it took to succeed. Anthony was just happy to make a living at what he liked to do.” He went on to say that Ricks was blessed with an upbeat and motivational attitude. These attributes were well received by his clients and co-workers.

The selfless act of picking someone up that needed a ride resulted in Rick’s death. Teresa Ricks assures us that her husband would have done the same thing over again, “just as long as he could help someone.”

Copyright and the Homeless Grapevine Issue 11, August-September 1995, Cleveland, Ohio

Mental Health Services

by Michael McCray

Russell lived under the bridge for years, diagnosed as a paranoid schizophrenic he felt safe there. Under the bridge no one looked at him strangely if he had seizures. Under the bridge he could have his occasional drink without anyone objecting.

If it was raining or snowing Russell would sleep under the bridge. On a pleasant day he would lie out in the sun or under the stars at night next to the bridge. When it was cold at night, he would crawl into an abandoned car for the night. His evening meal came from the City Mission and the morning meal from St. Malachi Catholic Church. The public libraries provided a place to get out of the weather during the day and he liked to read.

It was seventeen degrees below zero one Christmas Eve night, and so he lost most of his fingers to frostbite. His day-to-day life was a little hard when your mind is broken and your health is failing. When your family has passed away and you are homeless, it is next to impossible.

Not all mentally ill homeless individuals want help or realize that they need help. There is a clash between the needs of individual and the rights of an individual that condemn many to a life on the street. Russell died by the bridge never wanting help, alone under the bridge.

According to a report issued by the Federal Task Force on homelessness and severe mental illness, a third of the homeless people in America are believed to suffer from severe mental illness. They found that support services for these persons are fragmented; food, shelter, clothing, medical services and mental health services are all handled by different agencies with different agendas. Navigating through such a fragmented support system for a mentally ill person is a task next to impossible.

Drug and alcohol abuse complicate the problems of many of these individuals. According to the report "For some individuals, substance abuse is the cause of the homelessness; for others, it is the result."

Mental Health Services, a mental health provider for homeless individuals in Cuyahoga County, is working to end the fragmentation service for the homeless. They are attempting to integrate services provided to the mentally ill homeless. Located at Bishop Cosgrove Center, which also houses a meal program sponsored by Catholic Charities for homeless individuals, the program attempts to meet a variety of needs.

"We realize that our clients have a multitude of needs," states Dr. Steve Friedman the director of the program. "About 50% of our clients have a drug and/or alcohol problem. While it is impossible to generalize, a percentage of homeless individuals are homeless simply because they are mentally ill. They also have a wide range of other health problems that need to be addressed," he says.

Loans for emergency housing and food are available through the program and the word "loan" must be stressed says Dr. Friedman.

"We also offer payee services to help manage the funds for an individual. Many people are not able to manage their money. They tend to spend all their funds before they have met their basic needs for the month," he says.

Mental Health Services also has a twenty-four hour crisis intervention team available to anyone needing help in Cuyahoga County. This service is beyond the counseling services usually offered to homeless individuals. All services are available only at the request of someone wanting help.

Copyright by the Homeless Grapevine Issue 11, August-September 1995, Cleveland, Ohio

Don’t Let Our Looks Fool You

By Bob Boclear

There seems to be a perception of a homeless person as dirty, smelly and unable to talk. Wrong. We are people. Also, we have feelings. We think, and we have concerns. Even when you see some of us clean, smelling good, and looking decent, we still appreciate your business. We have pride, but don’t let our looks fool you. We need all the help we can get to come out of this situation. Thee are a lot of us who are working homeless. Picture this: you are working second shift. You get off work and go to the shelter, but its full. Where do you go? What do you do? You’re hungry, tired, and sleepy.

Also, picture this: You put in an application for a job. You have no address, no phone, no place to be contacted. It’s not so easy to obtain a job like that.

There was a time when I was considered to be in the lower income class. I was able to pay rent, the utilities, and support my family. This was tough, but fortunately we were able to raise our children to adulthood. During that time I said bad things about homeless people. I couldn’t understand them. “Get a job, I said. I called them lazy, no good, so-and-sos. Now, since I’ve fallen off my so-called “high horse”, I understand. My point is I don’t knock anyone living a good life. But don’t sit around, watch TV, read the paper about homelessness, and say, “Aw, that’s a shame. Oh well, I wish them luck,” without giving it a second thought. I am still trying to raise money to get my Commercial Driver’s License. I need about $400. If you are interested in giving me some work, please call my voice mail at 344-1580 and I will get right back to you.

I would like to thank each and every one of you who support our paper and plight. I sincerely hope that more and more people will open up their hearts and minds and join in. God bless you all.

Copyright by the Homeless Grapevine Issue 11, August-September 1995, Cleveland, Ohio

Cuyahoga County Ombudsman Outreach

By Matt Hayes and Delmarshae Sledge

            In 1994 the citizens of Cuyahoga County Ombudsman Office appointed Roy C. Love as director of the homeless/hunger center outreach ombudsman project. The project will aid the homeless in communicating with local officials and is beginning to make some strong contacts within the city, according to Love.

            The County Ombudsman Office was established in 1981 to help individuals resolve problems with county government and agencies. Ombudsman Office literature contains words like “respond,” “help,” “empower,” “insure,” and “provide.” The office has identified the homeless as a population that would need a governmental advocate.

            Undoubtedly the homeless population of the county has been in desperate need of such an ally. Unfortunately, this potential advocate functioned for thirteen years before the needs of the homeless were addressed by current Executive Ombudsman Steve Wertheim. The Homeless/Hunger Center Outreach Ombudsman Project began in 1994 to address the problems of members of the homeless community.

Roy C. Love, a 1985 graduate of John Hay High school, makes the rounds of hunger centers and shelters, interviewing and talking to the community. Love holds a B.A. from Baldwin Wallace College, where he studied political science, criminal justice and business management.

            For the past eighteen months, as Outreach Ombudsman Love says he has faced a difficult challenge in fighting bureaucratic regulations in order to help the homeless. He has become a regular at the Bishop Cosgrove Center, where staff member Ron Reinhart speaks highly of him. Reinhart says “Roy really takes people’s Problems to heart” and is diligent about finding people to deliver important messages. Love admits that seeing former classmates using free meal sites and hunger centers has a profound effect upon him. He understands that correcting problems of housing, health care, and employment are difficult for one man but still strives to make a difference, one person at a time.

Copyright and the Homeless Grapevine Issue 11, August-September 1995, Cleveland, Ohio

CMHA Police Arrest Vendor

Editor’s Note: This is part of an interview with John Mungai, who over the last eight months has been arrested six times and has spent all most two months behind bars. Part 1 detailed Mungai's first few encounters with the police. The interview was conducted by J. Taddie and B. Davis on April 14, 1995, Good Friday (justice center offices closed at 12:00 p.m.)

Interview Time: 12:00 p.m. to approx. 1:30 p.m.

Interview Place: county jail — former dining room on 7th floor

JM: = John Mungai

BD: = Brian Davis, Homeless Grapevine

JT: = Jean Taddie, Homeless Grapevine

JT: So, what are you in [jail] for now?

JM: Another day I was walking by myself on the west side on February 5, it was on a Sunday. [I'm] all by myself, nobody else [is around]. It’s cold in the morning. I still sleep outside sometimes I take a walk. So I’m walking by myself and my hands are in my pockets — just walking. It’s cold. The police come with two cars. They just told me, "take your hands out of your pockets." I said "why?" He said take your hands out. I said "No, for why, it’s cold." They say for your own safety, we want to see if you have a weapon. I said, "No." They came out and searched me and I’m resisting, you know. So they don’t find anything. Out of the blue...I’m by myself.

JT: So they approached you on the street, you were walking by yourself, you had your hands in your pocket and they searched you for a weapon.

JM: Yeah, and I protested. Then finally he held my cap. I was wearing a baseball cap. He put [it on backwards]...then he said "now you can go." So I said hey, you guys give me your numbers. I have to protest this. When I took my pen out, they said o.k. now you’re going to jail. And they put me in their car and started cursing me — all the way to second district where they charged me with disorderly conduct. This is February 5th. On February 6th, I went to the judge and I told the judge all that I did was to take my pen to write the numbers to complain to the judge. She said "no contest, just go home.’ So that’s how it happened, just out of the blue. This one I remember, it was the week following that when police were harassing me on Monday the [February] 20th. So, the following day, Tuesday, I went to St. Augustine as usual at 5:00 in the morning. So, then I ate breakfast, [and] lunch, and then afternoon I [went] back to Stouffer Tower, cause he has this guy I know [who] has a hot dog cart. But those owners need to get somebody to do the business. So they always [try to get me] to sell the hot dogs. So I had decided to try to make some money [as a hot dog vendor] the snow was almost finishing. I had to come up with $50 to go get a license at the city hall.

JT: To sell hot dogs?

JM: Yeah. So that’s Tuesday, on the 21st. After I ate food, [I] decided to go to sell my plasma to get some money that day. It was starting to snow that day, on the 21st, Tuesday. So I took a bus all the way downtown and I went near here to Picolo Mondo. So I can make a little money on [clearing snow] when people are coming from work here. It’s cold, it was snowy that day. I made some little money there. So all together I had like $42 by the time I finished with the cars. But I was like $10 short to get my license. So I went and slept. And now I was coming down with a cold because that evening was so cold — the 21st when I was helping people park to go to the concert. So I went and slept. I wake up the following day. So, I say that I will just wake up and take a walk. I didn’t know what time it was. So I had somebody who keep my papers down in the projects. And then I go behind the projects to get to the flats. And when I come here there is this townhouse here and this highrise. There was a police car here. There were some guys there, and a police car there. So I come up there, and I ask these guys whether they saw this girl who keeps my papers around. I don’t even know which particular apartment she lives. However, she was always around. So they say, ‘there she goes.’ So she was going to this apartment. So I go to the hallway. It was dark...By the time I hit second floor, she entered the apartment. I decided not to knock on the door. I decided to go back. But when I was going in, there was this guy with a dog who was coming down the stairs to go out. So when I went to the second floor and I try to reach her as she entered, I decided to go back. Soon I was going back down the hallway, I’m eating a peanut. It was dark. I saw a reflection of, like, a flashlight on the wall. And then, these guys say ‘put your hands in the air.’ I said ‘What’s up.’ I put my hands in the air. It’s policeman. He said, ‘come down here.’ So I went, my hands in the air. He takes me out of the building. And he directed me to where the car was. So he searched me—I’m not protesting anything. So this guy searches me, and before he finished, I heard this first one who was far away say ‘put him in the car.’ So he said to me I didn’t have anything that he would be interested in. He directed me around. So he put me in the car. No handcuffs. Then when I got in the car there was another guy — that’s the guy who was coming down the hallway...

JT: With a dog?

JM: With a dog, when I went. I know him. I know he sells drugs around. No question about that, I wouldn’t say I don’t know. So I just stay there. The black policeman who brought me here went back to the building. He came back and soon another car came. I think their boss, the sergeant. And they all—with the other Spanish police who searched me—they all went and talked. Then, the Spanish guy came and opened the car and took me out. I thought ‘hey, I’m going.’ Then the boss came and asked me, ‘Where are you staying?’ I said ‘West 11th.’ So he said ‘the other project?’ I said, ‘no.’ Then he left. Then this guy handcuffed me.

JT: From the new car that came up with the sergeant in it or was one of the original guys.

JM: The sergeant walked back to the black policeman. He [left] me with the Spanish [officer]. So the Spanish [officer] tells me "turn around." He had to cuff me. Meanwhile I’m thinking they [are] gonna charge me with trespassing or whatever. Then he opened the car and he put me in. So he went. They all talked — three of them. Then the second car left, the sergeant left, then they came in the car. The one who brought me from the hallway, he is not saying anything to me at all. So this police told the Spanish guy, "Take information from him." He is avoiding to talk to me. So then the black policemen say, "I have the right to remain silent." I say "what are you charging me for?" That’s when he lifted a plastic bag, he [said] "trafficking with these drugs." I went crazy, I started cussing him. He said ‘trafficking.’ I went crazy. I couldn’t believe it. I started cursing—I don’t even curse. Then he let the guy [with the dog] go out of the car, they talked and then he let him go. And they take me to the district [police station], charging me with trafficking. And all the way, I’m cursing them. So we went to the district and I couldn’t give them my name. So they called the captain of the police there and he was mad too [that] I couldn’t give the name. So one of the [desk officers at the station], He was a black guy and he called me and he separated me. He said, "Most likely, I will not be charged." When the CMHA arrests you they will just go for investigation. So I decided to give them my name. This black policeman was still avoiding me, he was not even coming close to me because he knew he was being dirty. It was the Spanish guy who was trying to get information from me. I asked him ‘hey, why are you guys doing this?’ He told me ‘Hey, this is between you and that guy there [the black officer].’ Meaning, he understands what was going on...

JT: The Spanish guy told you that?

JM: Yeah, he told me it’s between you and that guy.

BD: So where did he get this bag of drugs?

JM: I believe, from my understanding that building has three stories. And it is getting dark— there was no light. This guy who sells drugs must have seen the police car coming and he went to the hallway and went all the way down the floor and left the drugs there in case they are searched. And so when the police saw him coming from the building, and they know he sells drugs, that’s why they had stopped him and put him in the car then and there. So when he came in the hallway, and came by chance across me he was going to take what maybe that guy had left. That’s my theory and I think that’s what it is.

JT: So you think they might have found it, so the guy with the dog might have thrown it down or something?

JM: Yes, he must have left his drugs in the hallway.

BD: And they just thought it was yours.

JM: No, he knew it wasn’t mine. He knew completely.

BD: Had you had any dealings with this guy before?

JM: Yes, I had. Because before, I...This is West 25th, when you come from the office going to that hospital there on Franklin. Once I came from the flats to go to the Malachi church there. And I went along West 25th and take Franklin behind the projects. So I was— I came Franklin— and I was almost all the way down by the restaurant Hoffbra Haus and I hear... It was a little bit cold so I’m jogging and I heard a car stop. He asked me, this policeman he asked me "what you running from?" I said "I’m not running from anything." So, as usual, I ignore them. I started with my journey. They say "stop there." I say, "No, why?" So I saw it was a CMHA car. And here, this is not there property. This is a city street. So I ignore them. So they came from the car immediately pointing a gun at me. This, Kevin [O'Neill of the ACLU] knows about this.

JT: And this was the same black [police officer] of night you were arrested?

JM: Yes.

JT: How [close were these incidents]?

JM: Three weeks.

JT: About three weeks before?

JM: Yeah, and he knows me because of my talk—the way I talk. No policeman would forget,

because I only talk with sense and I will try to prove to them what they are telling me is not proper. So he knows me. So he came with the gun— Kevin knows about this, and Bryan [Gillooly, former director of NEOCH] even knew, I [had] complained to Kevin and Bryan about this instance.

BD: So CMHA cops were the ones who picked you up then.

JM: Yes.

BD: And then, are they allowed to bust people like that?

JM: Yeah, yeah

BD: And so then they take you to the police station?

JM: Yes, yes, and then they file the paper. The [local] police file the papers. So this time I was...when they came with the gun — the guy who was driving was the black man — that guy. [He was with a different] white guy. So they came with the gun. And I said, "You can not do that." And they told me, "We can do this we are law enforcement." So I told them "who pays you? Does the city pay you?" So they can remember me and they don’t like it. So they say let me search you. They came across the FBI card. I had the card in the pocket. So when they came across the card they asked me, "why do you have this card with you? Are you wanted?" I said "No. This FBI protects me from the police who harass me, like you." See we had that talk. So he gave me, immediately, the card and told me to walk. So, you see, we had that confrontation with him. So this is the same guy. And another time he had stopped me... They asked me "why did you go through the projects?" They don’t even know that I stay there. And I had a talk with him again — that’s the same guy. So I know for sure he did this [pinning the drug trafficking on me] because he doesn’t like me at all, at all, at all. That’s why he did this. It’s not out of hate. If and when he got them, I don’t even know whether he got them in the hallway or in his pocket—I don’t know.

BD: Now, Bryan Gillooly [former director of NEOCH] told me that the week before you were arrested, you were running through some of the bars because they were chasing you.

JM: Yes. Yes, that’s the week before. That was February 15th. It was on a Wednesday. And they were there — like a little before 8:00 p.m. That’s when I called the police station. And then all of them started joking with the police lady. And then I had to run to the bar. When I came out, they were gone. So the following day, the 16th, on the next day I went and told Kevin. Kevin told me he called the FBI and called the city to talk about me. The same day, I went back downtown to the same place and then....I was near by and then this guy who owns Hilarities he came up to me. [He said that] I cannot be around that block selling the papers. I said "Why, I’m not by your door?" or something like that. He told me, "go across there to the other business." I said "why the other business?" So then he called the police and the police came—one of them is the previous one of the two the previous night. So he came with another one and they put me in the car immediately. They told me...They gave me a deal, they said, "John, either we will take you to jail or you agree you go away — you leave downtown." Then he said, "Or either we will not take you to jail, but we will make sure you don’t sell your papers." So I just decided o.k. I will go. And I had to leave. So I left and went to the West Side. I went to sleep. That was the 16th. So the following day I went to see Kevin, and Kevin was going to act on it. That was on a Friday, 17th. The following day, the 18th, I went downtown. A group of them that were harassing me on the 15th, I saw them again and they came and talked to me. I told them, "Will you let me make some money." That day they left. I didn’t see them again.

JT: So, what I’m hearing is that it’s not just one person that is bothering you. But some of the police officers aren’t giving you trouble. Some are and some are not.

JM: February 16th, when the owner of Hilarities had called, and he put me in the car. He was one of the previous night harassing me. He was working Tower City off duty. He told me, "Hey, John, you know so many people don’t like you." I ask him which people. He said, "Most of us [meaning the police]" So he was telling me flatly they don’t like me. He was telling me those police don’t like me. And he said they don’t hide. His partner, the previous day in the flats, they had put me in the car with another [police] and we were driving around. And here I’m scared so I say "Well, let me call my lawyer." I showed them Kevin’s card. And they told me, "These days you better be careful because you’re going to see yourself on the ground." Saying we can shoot you.

JT: You’re going to see yourself on the ground —saying they could shoot you?

JM: Yeah, of course. That was the day I was running to the bar. I was running away because that’s the police who had told me few days earlier, or a week, that I can be shot. That’s why I ran to the bar. On February 15th I was scared because I know they can.

JT: When they were following you, you were afraid?

JM: Yeah.

JT: Because you were threatened?

JM: By him.

JT: By that same police officer?

JM: Yeah, yeah, yeah. So that’s why. I was scared.

BD: Now, do you regret, then, being a part of the homeless dumping lawsuit?

JM: No, I don’t regret.

JT: It’s lonely after 52 days isn’t it? You want some company.

JM: And sometimes its so dangerous, because I’m in a room like this — 35 by 30 — and there’s supposed to be twelve people. Right now we have 21. We go to 24. And there is a TV And then 7:30 I turn the news. They want to see cartoons. Sometimes it’s scary because your dealing with irrational people.

BD: So, do you regret standing up for what you believe was right with the police? Do you regret telling them...

JM: No, no, I can’t regret. Cause you know...It’s, it’s, I don’t know... Maybe I’m sick in the head or something like that but sometimes, you know, I say I’m a realist and I know that if I have to argue with somebody, I will only argue for what is good. I will not argue just to argue. No, not at all. This I don’t regret because that helps me to understand the world more. I wouldn’t like to be like that policeman who accuses me of this. I’m not saying I’m happy to be here. But I don’t regret, because I use this situation positively to understand human nature. And in a sense, because it’s so scary, but I would rather go to jail even five years than to be in the [police] man’s shoes.

JT: So you’re sitting here because you haven’t seen a judge who can lower your bond. And in the meantime, they have up to 90 days to decide whether or not they want to go for an indictment.

JM: Yeah. Still, even today the bond now if I was to get out is $500 for one. But I can get out any minute, nobody’s holding me. So that bond is just usual process. Because they are crowded here and there is nothing for them to hold me for.

BD: So you think the business interests downtown are putting pressure on the police?

JM: Yeah, no question about that, of course. It’s the businesses. The policeman tells me. They were telling me before this arrest happened to me. They were telling me all these people from suburban are scared of all these people on the street. And I know they were referring to the black people. I know that, no question about that. So then, you know, I try to talk to them consciously, like when we were near Hilarities and they had put me in the car, they were telling me why, ‘these people are paying taxes and all this to come to Hilarities.’ And I said, ‘hey, wait a minute, you’re telling me that me just saying “excuse me do you mind for a paper" I’m harassing them?

BD: What are you going to do if you get out?

JM: What am I going to do? Go and sell hot dogs.

JT: You’re going to sell hot dogs?

JM: Yes. I don’t know, I don’t know when I’m going to get out.

BD: If you are cleared of the charges, would you consider staying in Cleveland? All these police are..

JM: I would... Nobody is going to make me move here — not them. No, no. I’m a realist. I

know they are capable of harming me. And I know that some

policemen hate me so much, so much, that he might say... Like one, [Badge #641] he had even banned me from around public square completely. And I think since Kevin complained about him, I never see him there anymore. And this man hated me so much. Because I’m the type of a person, they will come and they will shout at you this and this. And I will tell them "hey, you don’t shout at me," you know. And they don’t like it so.

I only stand there and only I will talk to you if you come up close to me and say ‘do you mind for the paper.’ I cannot come block you or approach you — I don’t do that. And then maybe some people who work there, they come... They bring me soup, they buy coffee, they bring it to me. And you know, I don’t know how I can express thanks to them. That also is like, I don’t know... I use my situation more like, you know, like to know people are good. Actually, people are good. We’re all good in general, but sometimes we become bad like those policeman and some other people. Like some one who may walk by and curse you, ‘why don’t you be a this and this.’ So my message to the people in the streets is thanks for their support.

JT: Well, we both thank you so much for your story. Maybe it will cause somebody else to look and see what’s going on. So hopefully, because of your story, maybe somewhere down the line, somebody won’t have to go through it so much.

Copyright by the Homeless Grapevine Issue 11, August-September 1995, Cleveland, Ohio