Richard

Richard’s calm demeanor attracts people to him. He has always managed to find a community, even when his own family disowned him. At age 14 he told his mother he was gay. He was banished from their home. Fortunately the local gay community in his Minnesota neighborhood took him in, helped him survive, and gave him a job. At age 16 he worked as a bar back at a local gay bar. By the time he was 19 he was one of the managers of the bar. Making great tips; on a Friday night he could bring home anywhere from $100-600. He had a condo, a car, even a boat. He was an entrepreneur, and the local gay folks were his family. He could even afford to pay for his boyfriend’s college tuition.

Life was grand until he came home one day to find his lover in his bed with another man. Richard threw them both out. He sold everything and moved as far away as he could: San Diego.

Unfortunately, money doesn’t go as far in San Diego as it does in Minnesota. So despite working various odd jobs, he eventually had to give up the place he was living in. Making money was hard. He spent ten years couch surfing at a friend’s apartment in Tijuana, coming back to the U.S. every day for day labor work. It’s long days for $50/day, with the travel time to the job site and back, then back and forth across the border. He worked driving a taxi, but the cost of gas skyrocketed at one point and even though he slept in his car to conserve his earnings, it wasn’t enough to pay for the daily taxi rental.

Finally, he succumbed to the fatigue of daily survival and became homeless, living in Balboa Park under a special tree that locals called the spider tree. “I never saw a spider there, but everyone said they did,” Richard laughed. It wasn’t so bad there, he added, demonstrating more of that enduring, easy-going personality. But it was a losing battle trying to hold on to anything but the bare necessities. “Owning something was a fantasy,” he said. “If somebody got my blankets, well, then god bless them they needed them worse than I did.”

He made the leap to indoor living when he was diagnosed with liver failure and the doctors gave him 30 days to live. A social worker said she could get him into housing. He told her he would believe it when he saw it. She got him into an SRO hotel downtown, where he lived for a year. He finally secured a HUD voucher and located the place he currently lives in in City Heights. He’s been there ten years. It wasn’t easy moving indoors, however. After so many years outside, he felt closed in by the walls other people see as security. “I felt like I couldn’t breathe” indoors, he said.

He would spend a few nights back out in the park, camping with his friends. They would visit him in turn, taking advantage of a hot shower, fresh food, even a home cooked meal. Eventually Richard got used to living indoors, but maintains an open door policy for friends who need a break from the street or the park. “I never forget where I come from,” he said.