I haven't seen my friend George in several years. We went to high school together. We were both in the band. George went into the Army after high school, stayed in for a couple years, got out, worked various odd jobs, then went back into the Army again.
A few years ago he was serving in Iraq, in Samarra. He made it back from Iraq in one piece, and moved to Iowa. As far as I knew, he was still living there. At least, until my phone rang in the wee hours this morning.
He was calling me from San Diego. Things had gone downhill for him since the last time I saw him (he visited me here in Detroit back in the summer of 2007). He had changed jobs, going from a low-paying factory job to driving a truck, and then had lost his job entirely. As a last-ditch effort when his money was running out, he bought a bus ticket to San Diego so that he could be homeless in a warmer climate, rather than suffer through an Iowa winter out-of-doors.
(That struck me as a surprising move, but he had only moved to Iowa for a job and no real ties there, and not really any fewer contacts in San Diego than in Iowa. Plus, he's always been an impulsive, fearless kind of guy. I personally can't imagine taking a leap like that.)
The economic crisis hasn't really affected me directly, but I've seen its effects on my friends. One friend can barely make ends meet, and I always pick up the tab if we do anything together. Another one can't make ends meet even though he's working; he doesn't make enough to keep his car on the road, and no matter how much he works he just seems to fall farther behind. A third friend, a Navy vet with a masters degree, can't find work, and in his forties has moved back in with his elderly parents.
But George is the first person I've known who has actually had to sleep out under the stars by necessity. I was relieved to hear that he at least has a sleeping bag.
We talked for a long time. I think he was really happy just to have a friend to talk to. Some of what he told me was disheartening. He said that his first night in downtown San Diego he saw bodies all over the place. People sleeping in doorways and on sidewalks. People stepping over the people on the sidewalks. A woman dressed in a black plastic garbage bag begging for scraps outside a restaurant. (He said he has since found a better area of town to stay in.)
As it happens, his call was incredibly well timed. I happen to be in a position to help him, and was able to offer him the chance to have a roof over his head again. It will involve, however, his return to Detroit, and the worst labor market in the nation.
(The unemployment rate in Michigan rose to 11.6% in January, the highest in the nation. And that's just U3, the official unemployment rate. The real number, once you factor out all the usual nonsense about "discouraged" workers and such rot, is actually higher.)
I'm writing this primarily to document it, but if anyone knows of any jobs in the Detroit area, or any information about or resources for the homeless in either San Diego or Detroit, I would appreciate hearing of them. Thanks for reading.
Update: Wow, the rec list? Thank you! This is my first trip to the rec list. I couldn't stick around after I wrote the diary this morning because I had to get to work, and I didn't anticipate it would get this kind of response. I will write more diaries in the coming days and weeks as George's story unfolds.