Billy Wade, 47, grew up living with his maternal grandmother in the Midwest. When she died, he made his way west, first to Tucson, then San Diego after the trucking company where he worked laid him off. Six years homeless now, two of them in San Diego, he's found a rhythm, staying away from homeless who do drugs and smoke even cigarettes, staying out of trouble with police. Though his legs are swollen from sunburn he doesn't seek medical attention, because "I came from a poor family. If it's somewhat painful, it's gonna cost you an arm and a leg." He's afraid he might be diabetic. He is on no lists for housing because he's afraid it will eat away at his social security earnings and he's saving that for when he really needs it. In the meantime he lives off the kindness of strangers.

Mark Hicks, 36, was born in the iconoclastic community of Slab City in the Imperial Valley desert. Many of the families that were living there when he was growing up are still there, but he got tired of the lack of food and over abundance of sun, so he came west to San Diego. He met his life partner in 2010, and they had six and a half good years before HIcks' partner died in June of 2016. The shy artistic man and his pug Doogie have been homeless ever since, trying to stay away from crowds. Just now coming out of his grieving period, Hicks is trying to get his life back on track, find a job and a home. He wishes the public didn't stereotype all homeless as lazy and drug addicted. He also would like to see the city build more SROs and establish rent control so people could actually afford them.

Raymond Caldwell is one of 14 children in a military family. They were all born in New Zealand, and when he was four, the lot of them moved to Arkansas. When he was 18 both parents died of cancer. The siblings took care of themselves with the help of the community. He was bored with working in a grocery store, however, so when a friend moved to San Diego, he tagged along. But the latent depression he harbored after his parents' death got him in fights and he ended up on the streets. Unable to get solid work, he lives on his SSI disability check, stays indoors for the first part of the month till his money runs out, and now stays out of trouble. The soft-spoken man smiles easily and doesn't ask for more than living one day at a time. He said he isn't on a housing list because he doesn't know how to sign up.

Thomas, 55, grew up in San Diego. He went to several different high schools because it was the era of busing kids around the county to better integrate students of different socioeconomic and cultural backgrounds. He worked at several jobs and ended up as a marketing manager for a technical college. Then he developed lung cancer. He credits his supervisors with great compassion, trying to limit his work load and allowing for long absences. But the chemotherapy just beat the energy out of him. Now he’s on permanent disability, but he lost his job, his home and his car to medical bills. “Just trying to survive is a 24/7 job,” Thomas said. “There’s no showers, no public bathrooms.” More than anything he misses the ability to have a good hot meal, specifically steak, or eggs and potatoes for breakfast. He and his immediate neighbors on a freeway overpass help each other move their belongings each week when the city crews come to clean up. Ironically, he moves three blocks to the sidewalk in front of where he used to live.

Born in Arizona, his military family moved around and settled in Kentucky. Mark migrated to Texas then Florida pursuing a career in radio, but ending up waiting tables before joining the circus, then catching a bus to San Diego. After a brief stint at St. Vincent de Paul, where he felt the staff wasn't very helpful, and other shelters only had programs for addicts, he went back onto the streets. Eventually he was pressured at gunpoint into smuggling migrants across the border till he was caught and jailed. Now he plays banjo and sings with the homeless Voices of Our City choir, trying to find a place to stay indoors and make an honest living.

Jesse, 45, gets tired of people judging him and other homeless individuals. He can see it in their eyes, but tries to not let it get to him. "They threw rocks at Jesus," he points out. And those people judging him, "they're gonna have to answer to St. Peter in the end, just like we are."  Jesse has PTSD from a life of struggle, fighting for stability. He was tired of his foster parents telling him what to do and trying to force him to read the Bible all the time. He moved out, but being homeless in New England gets rough when winter temperatures are 20 below. He lived in seven states before landing in San Diego, where he doesn't think the city does enough to help the homeless.

Jack, 40, grew up in New Mexico. His adoptive parents made sure he got to take college courses in high school, he was that smart. At age 19 he fell in love and married a man ten years older.  When Jack was accepted to Stanford Law School they moved to the Bay Area. He began working for a world class law firm after only two years of school. But the long hours kept him from his relationship, so he gave it all up; the two moved to Rancho Santa Fe and had parties. That's when he discovered his husband was meeting men online and having sex in public bathrooms. Jack learned he was HIV positive. His partner got abusive, would send him out on needless errands when drunk, so he ended up with DUIs and a stint in jail where he was raped by guards. Out on the streets, Jack is trying to put his life back together. He's studying neuropathy, wants to be a scientist, find secure housing and maybe learn to trust people again.

Matthew, aka Shadow, 31, has a winning smile and clear blue eyes. He sits cross-legged against a signal box with a cardboard sign folded so many times it’s about to split in half. At age 14 months, doctors told his mother he has Lennox-Gastaut Syndrome, a rare neurological disease. They told her he would be about 70% delayed in all things motor and cognitive. His mother was more concerned about her drug habit, and not getting too bruised by her husband, also an addict and alcoholic. He learned to swim, and that was the best time of his life, as a teenager, until his grandfather pulled him from the program. Later, after a turbulent marriage, jail and divorce, he is happy with his new girlfriend, an old high school flame, and together they hope to panhandle enough money to get a home together and start fresh.