The homeless among us

Hoping to put a face or two on Chico’s downtown homeless, in recent weeks I approached a number of those who appear to fit the description.

I spotted the tall, thin, bearded man who looks almost biblical and can be seen on downtown city sidewalks carrying a blanket while repeatedly muttering the word “die.” I’d encountered him before when he asked me for money as I walked along Second Street near Chronic Taco. I gave him a buck. He took the money and said “motha-fucka.” I took no offense; it was his way of saying “Thanks.”

I crossed his path a few weeks later while he was bumming a cigarette off a guy standing in front of Bella’s Sports Pub on Broadway. I gave him two bucks and said I’d like to talk with him. He took a step back, scowled and shook his head.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“I don’t want to tell you,” he said, looking away.

“I’m just trying to do a story, you know, on how you maybe can get some help…”

“I don’t need no help,” he said, and tried to hand back the money. I told him to keep it, that I’d be bugging him again. He picked up his belongings and stomped away. I saw him a few hours later, waiting to cross the intersection at Second and Main streets. When he saw me, he quickly turned and walked away.

Some of Chico’s homeless sit peacefully against buildings and ask for change and/or cigarettes, offering a blessing regardless of the response. Some sleep in store alcoves, others in the park or on the banks of creeks. Some walk the sidewalks, carrying their possessions, talking to an unseen presence and gesturing wildly to make their point.

To a lot of us they are a faceless nuisance, something to be avoided as we go about our daily errands. It’s easy to ignore our common humanity and the recognition that these people all have stories about what brought them to this place. And their numbers are expanding.

Last year’s Butte County homeless survey showed there are 1,043 homeless in Chico, which accounts for 59 percent of the county’s homeless and is up from 865 the year before. Of those, 16 percent are chronically homeless, 43 percent have been so for more than a year and 30 percent live in a car, on the street or in a park. More than half, 52 percent, say they are homeless because they are unemployed and 31 percent cite mental illness as the reason.

Across Second Street a shoeless man was sitting on the sidewalk with his back against the Zucchini & Vine store. He had a blanket, unkempt hair and a long beard. I told him I was doing a story and asked him if he would talk to me. He said he would, and that began a series of conversations that took place over the next few days.

Eric Grealish, 49, said he’s been in Chico for only the past few weeks, having arrived from Modesto, where he’d lived on the streets for the past few years and suffered an addiction to crack cocaine. He said he was born in Anchorage, Alaska, and moved to Salt Lake City with his family when he was 2 years old.

Grealish talks in a sort of theatrical stream of consciousness that occasionally contains a concrete observation. He said he’s been treated well for the most part during his stay in Chico and that it’s tough to ask for money knowing others are suffering in this poor economy.

“This one dude threw a can of beer at me and it popped open and sprayed back on him,” he said with a slight laugh. Then he got very serious. “A lot of people look at you and see their life’s problems.”

He said he was diagnosed in 1985 as “100 percent manic-depressive bipolar” and a year ago suffered an ankle injury when sideswiped by a semi on a Texas highway. He said he’s been a session guitarist who has recorded in studios in San Francisco, Los Angeles and London. He receives Supplemental Security Income, is covered for health and dental but no longer takes his anti-depressant medication.

“I stopped doing them because if you’re just a little bit allergic to the pill, and the psychiatrist didn’t know about it, it’s like you get higher off of those than the street drugs,” he said. “I ended up in Doctors Hospital in Modesto. I threw the whole bottle, the rest of them, down the toilet.”

He said his mother passed away years ago and he does not know whether his father is still alive.

“I got a brother who lives out in Salt Lake, and I got two sisters,” he said. “My aunt and my uncles might still be alive. But, you know, my dad was 34 when I was born, so he’d be 83 this year. I went through a lot of child abuse. So did my brother and my sisters. The last time I talked to my dad was in ’89. We kind of got along a little bit. We didn’t have no arguments, and everything seemed to be better than average.”

The last time I saw Grealish he had new pants from the Free Store, which is run by the Jesus Center off Park Avenue and serves free meals to the local homeless.

“I’ve been eating real good,” he said. “Three meals a day and getting clean clothes over at the Free Store, and spare change enough to wash my blankets. And I take a bath every day at the creek. Chico is very, very nice. I kind of feel like I don’t deserve to be here.”

The Jesus Center is run by Bill Such, a guy who, not surprisingly, carries a lot of empathy for the plight of the homeless.

He mentioned that the Downtown Chico Business Association has been discussing plans to clean up the downtown area, which, according to a letter addressed to downtown property owners, would include “addressing unwanted behaviors by the transient community.”

Such said the DCBA has been in contact with the Jesus Center and the Chico Police Department. He said businesses have expressed concern to the DCBA “presumably about the problems of people who are irrational, yelling, pan-handling, sleeping in the alcoves and doorways at night and so forth.”

He said he has an idea based on how the problem is handled in Sacramento: through an “ambassador” program.

“What if we got three people from the Jesus Center, people recovering from whatever their substance abuse was or who can’t get jobs and are trusted and responsible and know the streets? If they were trained by the Chico PD, they could go downtown in the mornings and find those who are sleeping off alcohol or whatever.”

Such said the three-member team could wake up the sleepers and invite them to breakfast at the Jesus Center, transport them via the center’s van and then direct them to the other services available. His plan includes a uniform and equipment to clean the sidewalks sullied by the overnight stay.

“In other words,” he said, “it’s a positive way of dealing with the problem.”

He said he’s sketched out some figures and thinks the program could be run for about $3,000 a month. He said he asked the Interfaith Council, a collection of local churches, synagogues and mosques, if they would be interested in launching the program, and has received positive feedback.

“It could be tried for three months, and if it works we could go to the businesses or the DCBA and say, ‘This is working. What about you taking over the funding?’”

The important thing, Such said, is recognizing these people are fellow human beings.

“There are a lot of people who just can’t get work, who are out on the street for whatever reason, including those who’ve made some terrible decisions. Even they need the affirmation of us saying, ‘You are part of who we are.’

“To some degree the health of this community in Chico is dependent on how we treat the people you might call the least among us.”