On the way to my Open House in Irvine today I saw something that really rocked me emotionally. I saw a despondent-looking man, whom I took to be a homeless veteran, sitting on the curb at the side of the road, just staring across the street at the former El Toro Marine Base. He was just sitting there. Basically in the middle of nowhere, with the mid-day sun beating down. Just staring. I have no idea what he was staring at. The base is long-closed. Little by little it is morphing into Orange County’s Great Park.
In South Orange County we don’t have a very visible problem with homelessness. I’m sure it’s out there, we just rarely see it. Every few years I’ll see one or two individuals hanging around the same area for a short period of time, but they seem to move on fairly quickly. Local city statutes aren’t very accommodating for the homeless.
Perhaps that’s why it hit me so hard this morning. I’m not used to seeing it. I’m not used to thinking about it. I don’t like the idea that there are people out there with nowhere to go.
Sure there are those who got there by making poor decisions. Maybe even the majority. But what about those who became homeless through no fault of their own? What about those who have lost heart and their way as a direct result of serving our country? What if the guy I saw sitting on the side of the road came back from a tour of duty mentally destroyed and unable to integrate successfully back into society?
Is there any way to determine who really needs help and who is just milking the system? I’d love to hear from anyone who has experience working with the homeless. What works and what doesn’t? How can ordinary citizens help those who are truly homeless without running the risk of throwing away hard-earned money to some scam artist? I’ve heard these guys make significantly more money than I do and manage to do it in much less time. Not really something I’m looking to sign up for.
For safety reasons I didn’t stop to talk to the man sitting on the curb. Homeless or not he is a stranger. There was no opportunity for a kind word or anything else. So I’m left with this feeling of sadness. Sadness for the man sitting on the curb; and sadness that we as a society aren’t free to help unless we are willing and prepared to assume potential risks. I can’t help but think, “Therefore, but by the Grace of God, go I.” All I can offer this man is something that he will never see. All I can offer him is prayer.
