Tom

Tom has a degree in physics. Life was grand, living in small town Michigan, married and raising two kids, while working at a fire sprinkler company, designing the systems.

But things started to sour with his marriage, and he and his wife divorced in 1993. Then someone at work learned that Tom has Jewish ancestry, which didn’t sit well in the heavily catholic town. They made life miserable for him at work, despite his more than ten years on the job. He moved to St. Louis and found similar work. Too similar, he fears, since it seemed the people in St. Louis knew the folks in Michigan, and whatever animosity there was about him being Jewish followed him. Despite the fact he was a good worker, smart and good at designing systems, Tom felt pressured to leave.

So he bought some tools and a beagle and traveled around the country for a few years doing odd jobs. His son, a machinist in the US Navy, invited him to come live in San Diego. His son was on the USS Stennis when it deployed to launch an assault on Afghanistan shortly after the 9/11 terrorist attacks on America. When his son went out on another long deployment and eventually resettling back in Michigan, that left Tom with just his car and his dog again. Until the car broke down.

Tom has a sincere grin that spreads from the edges of his snow white beard to the laugh lines around his eyes. He knows where all the churches offer a free meal and clothing from downtown San Diego to Oceanside along bus and trolley lines. He never carries more than he can handle comfortably. That means no sleeping bag. He just dresses in layers until he’s warm enough to get through the night, and rarely stays in the same place two nights in a row.

Lately he’s begun to feel that God is urging him to find a safe place indoors. “He’s saved me from death two times already in my life,” Tom said. “So I’m listening; and He’s been saying it’s time to find a room somewhere off the street.”