Dex grew up in Queens, New York in a big family. He attended college in Virginia, though it got tough to pay his tuition after his father stole his student loan check. The fight that ensued got Dex noticed by local police. Thus began a long relationship with law enforcement that most recently manifested in his being assaulted while in a Pensacola, Florida jail, allegedly by a policeman. He had to undergo brain surgery and several months of rehab before he could walk and talk again. Now on the streets of San Diego after a job offer to do computer animation fell through, he is looking for work either playing in a band or building websites. Meanwhile he has a good attitude on life, and Karma keeps strangers at a distance. He has spent much of his 35 years on the road, either hitchhiking or hopping trains. After the traumatic head injury, he said he feels like he’s 80. He learned to paint, and thinks he might be able to make a living painting and selling his artwork. He just needs enough money to buy art supplies first.

Marvin, 54, is a glass half-full soul who grew up in a Christian home in a Baltimore neighborhood. His mother was a nurse, his father a forklift driver: “a working class family,” as he described it. When one of his aunts moved to California, he got permission to move out and live with her and his cousins, graduating high school in L.A. Following in his mother’s footsteps he earned a degree as a medical assistant and found work in a nursing home there. Somewhere along the way be god mixed up with substance abuse. He realized he has an addictive personality and it has to be all or nothing. Marvin has been in and out of programs to deal with alcohol, preferring programs that have roots in Christian messaging. He maintains his sunny disposition, despite having his toes amputated last Christmas due to diabetes. He now gets around on the street in a wheelchair. He hopes to work as a bell ringer for the holidays this year so he can earn money before moving to Long Beach and moving in to another rescue mission program.

Jack, 51, grew up in the foster care system in Indiana. Though he went through some 30 homes and institutions, he has great praise for the foster mother that taught him a sense of morality, treating people with respect. He couldn’t say the same for his foster father, however, an evangelical preacher who had a penchant for “other women.” Jack is proud to be working picking up trash, earning some money even though it’s not a glamorous kind of job, rather than just collecting some sort of federal assistance check. He feels the homeless get a bad rap. He’d like to sit down with the mayor and other “head honchos” in San Diego and school them. “There’s important people down here,” he said. Some might have just lost their job or had a family tragedy that drove them into a deep depression. When he gets on his feet, he wants to do outreach to help other homeless individuals get work and housing.

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.