My Life from Leaving the Lighthouse Mission through June, 2013

June 29, 2012

I knew that the women from the Connors Center were to arrive today, but I was totally
caught by surprise when I heard Doug say two women were going to be signing in before
the transfer and one of them was named Mary Thomas. Then after making a few phone
calls to various Connors Center powers that be Doug proceeded to call Mary Thomas. I
could hardly believe it, I was beginning to go into an emotional spin. I was delighted and
shocked. Doug did not realize that he knew who Mary Thomas was. I got up and told him
Its the blond. His immediate reaction was What blonde? Smiths sister. He
immediately knew who I was talking about. I went and sat down. A few minutes later Mary
Thomas walked through the door. Doug had her read the rules and sit down to fill out
paperwork. We decided to wait until the Connors Center Ladies arrived before assigning
her bunk, and Mary went out into the lobby to wait.
After a few minutes I signaled to Doug to step into the hall behind the desk so I could talk
privately with him. I have been paying attention to this woman for a long time, and I really
like her. I have never touched her and weve talked very little but I find I really do like her
a lot. Nothing has ever happened between us, at most I have passed some notes to her But I
need to let you know how I feel about her. Doug had a big grin across his face, And as he
smiled he just patted me on the shoulder and cautioned me holding his hands in the air to
play it safe and act wisely so as not to draw undue attention to a situation that could be
construed the wrong way. But it was obvious he was happy for me.
A short time later sitting on the couch and Owen sitting in his chair I informed Owen of my
attraction to Mary. After recollecting something that I had written to Mary about my wish
that I could influence the change that would make it possible for her to check into the
mission Owen, Doug and I could not help but laugh at what appeared to be one of those
mysterious workings of Gods ways. But there was a general consent that the potential
relationship that I could share with Mary would be received in a positive light.
July 4, 2012
Saturday night I asked a go between to ask Mary if she would go to church with me the
next morning. I received a message through the go between that Yes, she would go to
church with me. I then relayed a message for her to be in the lobby at 8:25 Sunday morning.
Owen would be here at 8:30 to drive us in the mission van to Oak Hill Community Church,
east of Riley, Indiana. Rev. Fagg, the Lighthouse Mission CEO pastors here, and many of the
mission employees attend. Owen arrived and I introduced him to Mary and we, and a
couple mission residents loaded in the van for a short but very quiet ride to church.
At church Mary took a seat next to Owens wife, and I sat next to her. Owen was on the
opposite side of his wife and Rev Long, the administrator of the Connor Center, and his wife
and family sat in the row behind us. Rev. Fagg came around and made his usual cordialities
and shook our hands. During the service Mary and I shared a hymnal and Bible and talked a
little. Toward the end of the service we had communion, the Lords Supper. I had been at
Oak Hill for nine-teen months. Few show an interest to extend a hand of friendship to me. It
is true, I have long hair and prominent tattoos on my arms. This was the first time I took
communion in over seven years. It is the first time I felt I actually had a relationship with
someone I could take it with.
I have been at the Lighthouse Mission since January 2010. I became a deskman in May of
2010. I eventually went from the midnight shift to the evening shift and it wasn't long
before I had a regular Forty hour schedule Monday through Friday four to midnight,
besides coming to the desk area from 6:30 a.m. to noon to volunteer as I might be needed.
This I have done for well over a year and a half now.
I passed a note of appreciation, after chapel, to a lady I had become interested in well
before she came to the Lighthouse Mission and the Connors Center. For this I was
dismissed from the Lighthouse Mission. It remains to be seen what actions may be taken
against the lady in question. I hope none as she is innocent and took no actions that may be
construed as fraternization other than to accept an invitation to go to church.
I am nearly sixty-one years old, I have no money, I have no prospects other than what I
have written and my skills as a musician. I had found a home at the Lighthouse Mission and
a work that I enjoyed and felt I was a contributing member of the community. I fell in love
with a lady, she is fifty-one. And although no one can attest to any actions between us that
may be construed as inappropriate, I, or possibly we, must pay for my indiscretion of
passing a note and going to church together.
Something is wrong with this picture. Can anyone see it besides me?
July 16, 2012
I am safe, staying with a friend. The lady in question has not been dismissed, although she
is being watched very closely. I believe the "mission" is acting slowly because they think I
have something. They are not sure what, but something. And I do, a manuscript I wrote two
years ago about my coming to the mission and first months as a resident and deskman.
Besides this I am aware of inside information of the past two years which could be
embarrassing to the mission. The manuscript I am seeking just how to get published. And I
am waiting for situations to turn so that I may be with the lady.
Bob
Update July 30, 2012
On July 19, 2012, Mary Kathy Thomas was dismissed from the Lighthouse Mission Connor's
Center for women. After a report of a stolen flashlight by another Connor Center Resident, a
room search was conducted the following morning. All the rooms on the family side of the
mission and mens side were searched and no flashlight was found. Mary's purse was
dumped out and it was found that she had her Thyroid medications in her possession. Hers
was the only purse that was searched. Other women were found to have a virtual store of
food, which is also a violation of mission rules. Mary was the only resident disciplined
(dismissed). When Mary checked in on June 29, 2012, she was told by the Connor's Center
Staff aide/Nurse (who dispenses medications) that she (the Nurse) was not concerned
because Mary's meds are non-narcotic and she should keep them in her purse. As Mary was
being dismissed, she was told by Rev Long, the Connor's Center administrator, to "get the
hell out ASAP", and would not allow any explanation. The two staff aides who checked Mary
in (the Nurse being one of them) have NO recollection of the incident regarding checking
Mary in. Mary is currently staying at the same friends I am, and sleeping on the couch. I am
sleeping on the floor. As it may interest some, we have had NO intimate relations, though I
do hold a very great deal of affection for Mary. We are both trying to make the best we
know how, Mary has a great deal more "street smarts" than me, I, on the other hand am
thinking more longer term. We have no idea what the future holds for either of us, but I can
imagine sitting across from her and finishing my life in her company. And I mean a rather
long life at that.

. You all can go to hell, Im going to Texas. Davy Crockett
Nothing personal you understand, but I do like the attitude. And there are times you have
to move on. You know, Shake the dust off your feet as Jesus is quoted to have said. Catch
you all later!!!

I am now in Austin Texas. Yes, I am living the life of a homeless vagabond, but it really isn't
that bad. I am here because this is where the music is at, and apparently along the way
learning a lot about a side of our culture that most would rather ignore or pretend didn't
exist. But, such as it is, I am here, and this is the life I live.
I had to sell my last guitar back in Terre Haute in order to survive the last few weeks and
have a little cash to get out of town. I'm not too worried about this though, you see, I have
been watching things in my life fall together, as quickly as some may see them falling apart.
Life on the streets isn't a whole lot different than going camping and playing "hide and
seek" all at the same time. There are city ordinances that have to be kept in mind, but in
general the police are a nice enough sort. One even advised me about busking on the streets
and how to do it and not be given a citation for solicitation. But there are the sorts of con
men and jerks and idiots as well as out-right criminal sorts to be avoided. And I would not
recommend this sort of thing to everyone. But if your heart is right and your head clear and
focused, I believe this is the way to understanding ... life ... humanity ... and even God ... I
know my use of the word "God" offends some of my friends, but I have found it is just
another way of understanding or at least providing a non-descriptive reference to the
workings of our universe - You know ... the things we are still trying to figure out. And so
substitute whatever "noun" or pronoun you figure is appropriate.
Most of my basic human needs are being provided for through the Austin Resource Center
for the Homeless (Showers, washing clothes, water, and a cool (literally) place to get out of
the heat). Beds are by lottery, I have not taken advantage of this (yet). It is very pleasant at
night and I have become accustomed to sleeping on sidewalks and grassy places, as well as
on large stones in under bridges if required. As long as I remain inconspicuous there seems
to be no problem. But, come 6:30 in the morning I had better be moving. I am hoping to get
a locker tomorrow, they are also provided by lottery. The only real concern I have is
keeping my things secure. A lock would do nicely. I have not concerned myself with getting
another guitar as I would need a place to store and secure it when I'm not using it, but that
will take care of itself in time.
I am trying to stay in touch with Mary back in Terre Haute. This may become difficult as my
cell is about out of minutes and no finances to add any. Work is bad all across the country.
This I know from experience. People going from one place to the other - hoping to find
something. But I'm not looking for a conventional straight job, maybe a few hours here and
there. I do not want to be tied to anything that would become too restrictive or mean
compromising values I have come to enjoy as fundamental. I really believe that the writing
I will do as I continue is justification enough for all the hardship and life's inconveniences
that needs be endured. But I would like to get Mary here someday.
I can be written to at:
Bob Couchenour
P.O. Box 2509
Austin, Texas 78768
If anyone feels prompted to buy me a card to add minutes to my cell phone it would be
greatly appreciated. I have a "Net10" and service runs through Oct. 15, but the minutes are
virtually depleted.
My time is about up - I only get one hour at a time on the computer at the Austin County
Library. I will post updates as they occur. My email is still bobcouchenour@msn.com, this
will not change. Hope to hear from any and all of you.

Hey everyone. Time is real short.
Yesterday I was part of a lottery at the Austin Resource Center for the Homeless (ARCH), I
was one of the lucky ones and have access to my own locker which allows me to store the
majority of my stuff. That is a load off my shoulders. This morning I attended a Town Hall
meeting at the ARCH which included members of the ARCH administration, Staff and the
homeless registered at the ARCH to discuss issues of concern about the ARCH operation
and other issues the city of Austin needs to address concerning the homeless. I must say,
although the system is not perfect, at least efforts are made to deal with the needs of the
homeless, and the homeless themselves can have a voice in things that concern them. It
was not this way at all back in Indiana at the Lighthouse mission.
I have only been down to 6th street once, the day I arrived, but that is no matter. It is
loaded with live music, the whole town is. The Arch is only one block away from the center
of it all. I'm sure after I have a grip on how to survive, I'll get down to 6th street a lot.
I only wish Mary was here. If youre going to be homeless, there are a lot worse places to
be.

August 27, Monday - The Women's Plight
I am astounded by the blatant aggressive behavior of the homosexual community. Open
petting such that few straights would feel comfortable engaging in. Then again, this is about
as low on the social scale that can be fathomed. Women, particularly white women, being
held as prizes by black men wanting some of that white pussy and potentially contributing
to the homogenization of the races. And the women, being used by whites and blacks,
passed from one "protector" to another, hoping to make it through the night, maybe a
week, and at only the cost of a good fucking and the risk of a pregnancy.
Some may think that this only reveals my own prejudices about the races, maybe there is
some truth to this, but I have to say with black men, no doubt the most ignorant sort, Ive
listened too and been lectured too while they spewed their own racial bigotry. This is not to
say all are alike, and not to assume that a racially mixed couple is bad, but underlying
ignorance prevails, and this ignorance is not limited to black and white. It is the ignorance
of separation, us against them and the desire of one to dominate the other.

August 30, Thursday - Don't Argue
If I have learned anything in my 61 years I have learned you do not argue with a cop
standing over you, examining your I.D., while he proceeds to lecture you on the nature of
life and relations of men and women. Limited, bigoted, ignorant minds can only handle but
so much seemingly contradictory information without being thrown into a "tizzy", or
blowing a gasket. A pissed off cop is not pleasant company over morning coffee. But keep
your mouth shut and you may get by with just a warning.
I received a lecture from a cop this morning. He caught me sleeping, checked my I.D. then
assumed he had all the answers to my problems about life, divorce, and women. I kept my
mouth shut.
It amazes me how a little knowledge can mask such vast ignorance. But I stayed out of
trouble.

Sat Sept. 1 The Fool on the Hill
I sit on the top of a hill on Neches St. between 8th and 9th facing east. In front of me along
Neches St. are public parking and across the street is a parking lot. Just to the north of this
lot is a vacant lot with a hole in the fence and a number of homeless make this their abode
for the nights? It is a place Im sure the public officials would like to see cleaned up to make
the city safer, although I know of no particular incidents. Its just a blotch on the
community. Too my left is a five story parking garage occupied during the days and open
on Thursdays through Saturday evenings to serve those coming to town to party and
frequent the clubs. Behind me, to the west is another parking lot, and to my right on the
corner of Neches and 8th is a condemned house. The homeless often sleep on the porch and
in wet weather you would find me here. To the south, across 8th St. on the other side of
Neches is the Salvation Army. A large, fortress like structure, which from all I have
observed is under-utilized, whether due to lack of man power support or becoming an
institution that has outlived its usefulness. I dont know. I only know that when I first
arrived in town and tried to check in, it was not convenient for them and I was turned
away. To the south of the Salvation Army is the ARCH (Austin Resource Center for the
Homeless). This has become my center of operations. Most of my necessities of life are met
here, laundry, showers, computer lab, bath room and a place to hang out out of the heat
and rain. I have not utilized their overnight sleeping accommodations yet. The weather is
generally comfortable at nights and hiding in the shadows can be accomplished if one uses
a bit of common sense. I have found it is best not to stay too long or too often in the same
place, my perch on the top of the hill seems to be the one exception. As long as you are
awake by 6:30 a.m. the police dont seem to interested in harassing any one through the
night. Across Neches, to the west of the Arch and on the south side of 8th is another
parking lot taking up a full city block. Panning the area, from the east to the south and to
the west, the skyline is beautiful. Not as vast as a New York City, but it is impressive. And all
within walking distance.
Sitting on my hill facing east, I can hear music coming from 3 different clubs. Each night a
different band at each club, except for the one which seems to cater to a black audience and
it always seems to be some sort of Techno-Rap. The other two clubs, down the hill in front
of me seem to have a variety of genre, from punk to sixties acid rock and some blues, a little
bit of country. And these are not the clubs that Austin is known for. 6th St., located about
two blocks from my hill is strung out with clubs and bars and saloons, a virtual circus of
entertainment. Here you will also find individual entrepreneurs, busking or providing
Tarot Card readings or virtually any other obscure service you can imagine. Not having a
guitar yet, I do not spend much time here. No money and no reason. I am actually quite
conservative. But once I have a guitar, and take two weeks to a month to build up callouses
on my fingers and review my repertoire, I will find me a spot down here and ply my trade. I
have no doubt what I can do. I know my skills, as a guitarist and a speaker. I admit though, I
do prefer working with a group, but that will happen in time.
Spreading out through the downtown area, along Congress and in the richer areas there
continues to be a large number of music venues catering to the richer clientele. But these
are well out of my class, at least for the immediate foreseeable future. But, stranger things
have happened.

Tuesday September 4 Corporatized
A corporation is an artificial entity created as a collective expression of the desires and
purposes of a group of individual persons. It may be either for profit (to make money) or
non-profit (for philanthropic purposes). The corporation is granted the same rights and
privileges as an individual human being, but not being a human being, but rather a
collective of a group, it does not have a soul or personal conscience. It is treat as an artificial
person or being As such, persons and officials associated with the corporation may not
be held responsible for the actions of the corporation, and the corporation itself liable only
to what the courts may determine is fair financial compensation. Thus, a corporation may
not be held accountable to the law and its penalties to the same degree as an individual
citizen.
Too often, non-profit corporations are only such in name, and the corporate structure and
polity so set up as to hide the real profit making intent and purpose of the corporation. This
has become a legal loop hole for many such religious institutions.
And the corporation, without soul or conscience, is able to play on the good intents and
minds of its supporters. Spinning its image through public relations devises and charlatan
antics that rival the most sophisticated Madison Avenue advertising gimmicks.
And we buy it as the truth. Sold a bill of goods not worth the paper or air it takes to speak of
it.
But it seems so real, the illusion that is. And we rationalize Better the illusion I can see,
than the reality I have yet to discern. And we content ourselves in the ignorance we
know, ever fearful to venture beyond our limited perceptions. That might mean that
something has to change, and change is uncertain. So we take pleasure in the thought that
the corporation, our religion, and our government have it all together and figured out. And
the fact is, they do. And they have you just where they want you.

The lady I was put out of the Lighthouse Mission in Indiana for taking her to church and
passing notes after chapel will be coming to Austin very shortly. There are some
unforeseen complications that will need to be worked through and I am unable to contact
her except by the U.S. Mail, but in time she will be joining me and our plans are to build the
rest of our lives together. Yes, that would include marriage

Sunday, September 9, 2012 The Clan
I have been on my perch on the hill for four weeks now, and generally it has turn out to be
the best spot around to plant myself sit and think, listen to music and sleep. The only times
I had been approached by police were after 6:30 a.m. and I was either asleep or in a half
sleep dazed state and each time issued a warning not to be caught sleeping.
Since establishing my squatters rights a few other homeless have begun to join me on my
hill. At first it was an odd ball lot of individuals, a couple that I had seen numerous times
around the ARCH and more recently a group of about a half dozen young people (young
adults) who seem t have formed themselves into a clan.
This afternoon I was lying on my hill and I heard this group gathering about 20 yards
behind me. The two guys were picking up trash that had been strewn and left behind by
some of the prior visitors to my hill. The cops told us if we cleaned things up a bit they
wouldnt bother us. Apparently the one young man had a visitation from an officer the
night before and he behaved respectfully and the officer had mercy and enough human
concern to extend his care and un-officially the care of the police department to these
young people, and by extension, to me.
Well this is a relief to me. I was wandering what I was going to do with all that trash that
had been accumulating.

Monday September 10, 2012 BMX or some such
The hill that I camp myself on as you face east towards Neches St. is secured and held up by
a retaining wall. To the right of me, facing the condemned house is another retaining wall
securing my hill. In front of the retaining wall along Neches St. where a side walk should be,
the wall is reinforced by concrete against the wall down to the street at about a 45 degree
angle. This is not a walkable situation as one is just as likely to twist an ankle as make it to
the other end of the walk.
Being a Monday night, it is the slow, off night for the bars, and thus there is less demand for
parking spaces along Neches St.. But not to let the time and engineering marvel go to waste,
the BMX bikers made a show of it, although Im sure if some parents knew what their kids
were up to some restrictions would no doubt be forthcoming.
At first three teenage boys showed up on their bikes. They were maybe 14 to 16 years old,
and for the most part didnt do anything too dangerous other than ride along the concrete
embankment and a few jumps where the corner meets the road.
Then the older boy brought his bike up to the top of the wall and jumped the bike down
onto the concrete embankment and onto the street. I could see he was starting to push
himself into skill levels he was not quite ready for. Now understand They had absolutely
NO protective safety gear on. No helmets, No elbow or knee pads Nothing. He then took
his bike up the street about 30 40 yards and peddled downhill, gauging his speed, and
then turned straight into the embankment attempting to jump to the top of the wall. Most
times he failed. Twice he managed to land with peddles on the wall, and then jump the bike
back off the wall and down the embankment. It was obvious he had received some physical
punishment for his efforts.
Two older boys showed up, about college age. One was obviously the designated
photographer. Cell phones are great for that. The other boy, young man, was obviously the
experienced biker. He quickly went up the hill, peddling down and turned straight into the
embankment and up and over the wall, landing along the ridge of the wall at 90 degrees to
his approach. He then pushed his bike pass me, walking it down the drive to my left. He
continued in his attempts to jump the wall, but none was as successful as the first. After a
dozen or so tries, with varying degrees of success, he too apparently felt the pains of the
exercise, gathered his backpack, checked the pictures out and the boys went on their way,
peddling west on 8th St..
And even though it is a Monday night, parking is still needed here along Neches St.. I saw a
guy getting an amplifier out of his car, carried it across the street and had his girlfriend
wheel it down to the bar. Well he had to go back to his car for his guitar Seems
perfectly natural to me. Of course, when they returned, he wheeled it back and she carried
his guitar.

Thursday September 13, 2012 Instincts
I am sitting on the porch of the abandon house located next to my hill. It is raining and the
roof over the porch offers the best and nearest cover. It is not the most pleasant place.
Years of homeless taking their respite here and the smells of urine brought forth and
amplified by the wet and humidity. But, at least it is dry.
Thunderstorms came through earlier today while a large number of us were standing in
line to be fed lunch at a local restaurant which provides meals at 11 a.m. for the poor and
homeless. It could have been worse, but we clung close to the wall and were able to keep
anything we had essential dry by placing it between ourselves and the wall. And within a
half hour were dry enough to go on about the days business. Well, it has been threatening
rain all day, but only started to sprinkle as we stood in line at the Salvation Army. After the
dinner meal I made my way to my hill and just kept an eye on the clouds. They seemed to
be clearing to the south, the wind was from that direction, but it was beginning to thunder
progressively more to the north. I sat and waited and eventually it started to sprinkle
harder and I decided to move before I was caught and soaked. As I sat on the porch it did
begin raining harder, though no thunderstorm. I sit there now, waiting, hoping it will
subside and I can go make a phone call later tonight.
But as I sat (or sit), I began to wonder about our instinct to survive. Most modern day
psychologists would tell us that we human beings are not instinctual. Instincts are a relic
of our pre-human evolutionary past. The human being is now a conscious thinking animal.
C.G. Jung says that instincts are a part of our unconscious. Hidden away and virtually
forgotten, and our conscious minds taught to disavow the existence of not only our
instincts, but the unconscious itself.
I am no expert on the unconscious, but I am learning and I have realized there is a great
deal more to and about the human psyche that we, if we are open and willing to explore it,
can come to realize and integrate into a fuller human experience. Much of this I see as what
Jesus Christ taught.
And I cant help but wonder, living on the streets of Austin Texas, is this not a way to force
me to learn to live on the long forgotten instincts and integrate them into my conscious
mind?

Saturday September 15 Clouds Clearing
I am watching the sky. The clouds are clearing, moving east by south east. And the short
end of a rainbow appears out of the bottom of some particularly ominous bunch of clouds.
And the clouds reclaim that far away corner and the rainbow disappears. And I look up,
nearer and a goddess is stretched out lying on her side. And a face appears and within a
minute or two fades into a blur and then nothing. But for now the sky is clearing and all
that remains are the high wisps someplace in the stratosphere, and the contrails of passing
jets, now far gone. But in the distance, to the west something dark is appearing.
A man approaches me, obviously a more experienced homeless sort, a pro. He asks if he
can read some scripture to me, No, I reply, Id rather you didnt. He says OK and turns
around to go back down the steps that are on the front of the hill, and then turns around
and asks if it is alright if he camps up here. Sure I reply, The cops dont seem to bother us
up here. He thanks me and makes himself comfortable at the other side of this mesa.
At the same time a woman I had seen numerous times at the ARCH walks by with a male
friend. She waves and we exchange a few courteous words. She is pretty, but very street
hardened, tougher than me, Im sure.
The clouds to the west are breaking up, dark but no longer threatening.
A new couple has made their way to my hill. They are at the far back corner. And the
parking lot has yet to fill and the bands to play, but I can see the stars again. Star light, star
bright, first star I see tonight Its become like a prayer, focusing my attention and you
can guess the wish. My lady and I believe in each other. And possibly we see something in
the other that we are unable to recognize ourselves. Our lives are open to whatever
possibilities and difficulties arise. We will have each other. But, it seems to be working,
and who am I to argue when things are going well.
I met the couple who just arrived, Dan and Wendy, second day being homeless. They are
around my age (late fifties) and from Illinois. My God, I feel like Ive located a couple more
normal human beings. I was able to give them a few pointers about life on the streets
here. Im sure if they are around for any length of time we will develop close ties.
Its 2:19 A.M. the bars are closing the Lone Star has fallen blue belles are squatting
does anyone know where we parked the car?
Sunday September 16
It began raining at 10 a.m. and continued all day long. I sat on the porch of the condemned
housekeeping myself half hidden behind one of the brick pillars. A neighbor, a guy who
uses the vacant lot across the street decided to join me but didnt try to conceal his
presence. He sat openly and defiantly on the porch, leaning against the wall, reading his
book. He is a nice enough guy, from Montana, but a braggart, and hates blacks. The desire
and ability to attempt to understand seem to evade him. After a short while the police
cruise by and from their car, tell us to move on. We go our separate ways.
A short walk up the hill I stood in a doorway that is infrequently used. It could be
satisfactory if only there were something to sit on, a milk crate or a five gallon bucket. The
ground below is wet so sitting on it is out of the question. The rain is On again. Off again
so I wandered to check out other locations. I found myself under a tree in the lot across
from the ARCH and sat for a while. Everything is damp, my feet are wet, but my pants and
upper body are dry. The leather jacket I wear is proving to be one of my better investments.
The rain picks up again, when will it ever stop? Eventually it slows and I walk back to my
hill. There is no place dry and the humidity in the air precludes the idea of anything drying
soon.
To the east, at the same place I saw the end of a rainbow, another appears. It is still raining
lightly. I am about to leave and glance to my left and into the sky. My god, I can follow the
length of the rainbow from the northeast corner of Austin to the south east portion that had
only been visible just a few minutes prior. It really is a magnificent sight.
The Rain finally subsides.
Dan and Wendy make their way back up to the hill around 11 P.M... They had been sitting
on the pad under the awning at the ARCH when they were finally asked to leave. No one is
supposed to be there after 6: P.M., but the ARCH is not hard about enforcing the rules,
especially during inclement weather.
It had stopped raining but a dry spot was not to be found. But Dan and Wendy had got a
trash bag from the ARCH which they cut open to put on the ground under their sleeping
blankets and could be comfortable enough. I found some large pieces of cardboard that
someone had hid in the bushes and Dan lent me a quilted blanket to use for padding. It was
damp, but better than sleeping on the bare ground.
I was fortunate enough to go to Woodstock, the words just came out of my mouth. This
reminds me of that. Wendy looked perplexed; Dan threw his hands up in the air and
laughed. Lots of rain. Yep But is was more than that. The night went without more
rain.

Tuesday September 18 Please, not now Im trying to listen
I came back from the library, about 7:45 P.M... Dan and Wendy were already set up for the
night. Dan asked how I was this evening and after my walk over the hills of Austin and up
the parking lot to our back I could only reply, Its hell getting old, to which there was a
hearty agreement.
As I looked to the east, whats this? The lots were full and all the parking on the street filled.
This could only mean one thing Stubs was having a concert tonight.
If you were to walk down the hill, due east and past the parking lot and pass the restaurant
below and cross the street (Red River) you would find stubs, a Bar-B-Q restaurants that has
an outside stage in the back and periodically has some of the better bands come in and do
concerts. I mean the quality of what they put on is top notch.
As the sun set the first band started and I tell you, for not paying a red cent I could not ask
for a better location to sit and listen. After a few minutes, my Bible totting neighbor stands
up and starts reading out of the book of Revelations. Fortunately the band was loud
enough, so it was not too much of an inconvenience. He started over to me and asked if he
could pray for me. Id rather you didnt, I told him, and he went to Dan and Wendy who
consented to his request.
I have lost patience with the religious proselytizers. Yes, to some degree I used to be one of
them, but I was always a free thinker. Religion cannot tolerate free thinkers. They
become a threat, because the more you try to learn objectively, the more the fallacy
becomes apparent. And it is not just the religious fallacy; we might just as well include the
economic and the political.
You see, the religious need their absolute (God). And whether it is religion or economics or
politics we long for something absolute, real, unchangeable. But the fact is, there is nothing
absolute, only relative concoctions of better or worse, and that could be virtually
anything. But, of course, whatever we have become accustomed to that is our best, our
absolute and damn the man (or person PC) who tries to fuck with it.
Prayers ended, the music continues

Wednesday September 19 The Empire Strikes Back, well sorta
The administration of the ARCH had a town hall meeting today and all who make use of the
facilities were welcome to attend. I did attend as I feel a part of this homeless community
and I appreciate the services provided. Unfortunately there are relatively few who feel
compelled to participate in such functions. There were about 12-18 others who are
homeless and about 10 staff and administrators, but it was still a good meeting.
After some general discussion about things to be implemented and other issues brought up
by the homeless participants the executive administrator informed us about pressure being
exerted on the ARCH and the Austin Police Department by the city and several civic
organizations. The problem is the number of people (not all homeless) who hang around
outside the ARCH and openly smoke their weed and peddle their pills. I know this as a fact
as I observe this regularly. Well, we at the meeting were asked to encourage those outside
to come inside so to avoid what will obviously be coming.
Dan and Wendy hang around outside the ARCH. After the meeting and lunch I saw Dan and
informed him of what may be coming down. He informed me this evening that not an hour
after I warned him the police were by and made an arrest.
Earlier this evening a Fox news camera man was just below mw taking shots of the
exterior and sidewalk of the ARCH and the homeless congregating as usual. About a half
hour later two cops on bikes came speeding out of the parking garage next door. They have
never done this before. They proceeded down the street past the ARCH. A few minutes later
we heard voices from the top of the parking garage. We looked, and three officers were up
there observing what was going on at the ARCH and radioing their observations. They are
still there at present. A cop walked by us on the hill without saying anything. He went
across the street and he began questioning a black man who assists people parking on the
streets. He was soon joined by two other officers. Another black man was walking down the
street, they stopped and detained him. A cop car pulled up in front of us and an officer got
out and went to the others. One of the officers walked back up the hill and as he was
walking by he told Dan, It is a Class A misdemeanor to camp here, indicating that it would
be better if we moved on. We got the message and are seeking out new vantage points to
observe what seems to be happening.
I went down the backside of the hill and found a spot where I could observe the ARCH. I
went back to check the status of the first two black men but they and the police were gone.
The police are making their presence very noticeably now in front of the ARCH. Yet there
are those huddled against the wall and wandering around aimlessly.
And the music rings through the air. There is another concert at Stubs.
Eventually an officer walks up to those huddled against the wall seated on the sidewalk.
About 8-10 stand up immediately. I am about 200 yards away so I cannot hear what is
being said. A few scatter, but not too far, some continue to sit. Most meander about,
oblivious to what is going on. For the time, the police exit the scene.
Dan informed me that the man who was questioned by the police, who assisted with
parking, was arrested for asking for money from those he assisted. Legally he is allowed to
accept tips if they are offered, but he is not allowed to ask for money.
I returned to my perch on the hill. I dont think the police were too concerned about me.
Ive been there for 5-6 weeks, I think the cops who were on the parking garage expected me
to be there. But I wont put down the cardboard this time. Dont want to look like Im
camping.
Thursday September 20, 2012
Today while standing in line to get lunch it could be seen across the street at the ARCH
police were moving in again, squad cars and police on bikes swarming in as if on cue. I
could not tell if anyone specific were the focus of their attention. At the same time all this
was occurring an independent camera man was across the street on the corner videoing
what was going on. The ARCH Executive administrator eventually went out to the camera
ma, talked for a short while and then brought him back into the ARCH. The police soon
vanished.
3:30 P.M. Police are out front of the ARCH, 3 officers on bicycles and a paddy wagon. All I
want to do is get in line at the Salvation Army for dinner. A fight breaks out about 15 yards
behind me in line, a Hispanic and a black man. I am familiar with the Hispanic, hangs with a
group of punk kids (young adults, very rebellious group. The black man I dont know, but
he took off as soon as he was aware the police were right there. And they were right
there. No one was arrested; I had my dinner and headed for the library.

Friday September 21 Good Cop Bad Cop whatever
I knew I would not be able to sleep on my perch on the hill tonight, but I was uncertain as
to the extent of the ban. After dinner at the Salvation Army I made my way up the hill and
sat under the shade of the trees, knowing full well that I could not remain there for the
night. After about 15 minutes the police Paddy Wagon pulled up in front of me. The officer
got out and walked up the drive and over to me. It was the same officer who had given us
the warning the night before.
Didnt I warn you about being here? Yes I replied, but I know I cannot stay here, I was
only getting out of the sun for a while. He then asked for my I.D., ran a check and asked if I
had any outstanding warrants, to which I replied No.
Well, he said, for the time being we are under orders to arrest anyone for virtually any
infraction of a town ordinance. He then explained that last night they made over 50
arrests, for anything as small as smoking in a public park. He explained to me that the no
camping ordinance is usually not enforced, but things being as they are, they are under
orders to.
I told him I know what is going on down at the ARCH and he said that as a result of that the
whole downtown area is affected for the next 6 weeks.
I then asked him about sitting on some steps of the side walk that dont lead to any
particular place and he told me as long as they dont block the side walk and if they are on
private property and no one objects it is O.K.. He then explained that camping could be
defined as sitting on the ground with something that belongs to you sitting next to you.
Obviously I this this could be over turned in court, with a decent lawyer, but that wasnt the
point. These are the criteria he has to apply in enforcing the laws as he has been ordered.
But its enough information to use to stay out of trouble and out of court.
He said You dont appear to be looking to cause any trouble, and youve had more
warnings than most. He returned my I.D. and started down the hill. Thanks man, I said
and went to sit on my steps, newly sanctioned.
I will be expanding my search for new night spots. I found one last night and viewed a few
possibilities, I know there are more. It just means time and effort to explore them out. I
have some new walking shoes coming next week (courtesy of my sister, they will be put to
good use.
I am now sitting on my steps on 8th street between Neches and Trinity, facing south. A
police cruiser pulls up across the street near to the corner of Trinity. I hear foot steps
behind me and I move to the side to allow whoever it is to pass. A cop is standing behind
me. Did you see a phone fall out of a car here? he asks, not once looking at me, but intent
in his gaze on the street. No, I slowly and with certain meekness replied. He runs on
toward Trinity and the cruiser heads on west up 8th street.
So Im sitting on my steps and it had just turned dark, I dont mean dusk, but night dark.
Two officers on foot walk up to me. You know you cant be sitting there, a young Hispanic
officer tells me. I explained to him that the first officer had said it would be O.K. and we get
into a short exchange about what was permissible. He relaxes a bit and tells me of all the
troubles with the homeless who think they can do whatever they want.
Well, Im not looking for any trouble I tell him.
You can sit on the benches on
Well, Im going down to Red River and head north.
Out of downtown?
Yeah.
Well, youre smarter than most.
And I headed on my way to Red River and north, out of downtown.
I really think the young cop was bull shitting me, but I wasnt about to get into a match
flexing intellectual muscles, that would be sure to get my ass thrown in jail. I believe he had
orders to clear the streets and he was trying to do it and still avoiding a confrontation. And
neither did I want a confrontation, not at this stage of the game anyway. But, I still think he
was full of shit and bravado.

Monday September 24 - Rikki and Rocky Raccoon
I found my place to sleep, and during the evening I shift from behind the trees and bushes
to under the shadow of another tree to the dark shadow along a wall that runs the length of
some steps and walkway. I am on the grassy side, not on the walkway.
I don't know what time it is, very late or early depending on one's perspective and I am
sitting up leaning against the wall. Something is moving about 15 yards in front of me.
Gradually my eyes focus on a large ball of fur and two beady little eyes staring back at me. A
raccoon, small as raccoons go and apparently just as apprehensive about the situation as I
am. I t continues on its way and into the bushes, near where I had recently been sleeping.
In my peripheral vision I notice some unusual motion to my left. I look and another
Raccoon is crawling out of the brush and following the path of the first smaller raccoon.
The smaller "coon" makes its way back and they meet in the middle of the clearing in front
of me. They wrestle with each other and then run off into the woods on the other side of the
clearing.
After a while I notice something coming directly towards me. It is in the middle of the
clearing before I notice it. It's the smaller raccoon coming straight to me like I was a long
lost friend. I make some kind of caustic noise in hopes of dissuading it. It stops for a
moment and then continues toward me. I open the top of one of my water bottles and the
sound gets the "coons" attention, but not enough to stop it. I then make an unfriendly noise
and throw some water at it, to which it becomes frightened and scampers of into the trees
across the clearing. Through the night I kept imagining two beady little eyes staring at me
from out of the trees at the edge of the clearing.
A few minutes after the "encounter", I see "big coon" in under the tree I had slept under
several nights before. He climbs up the tree, about 6 feet, then up further and out on the
branches, and then up into higher branches and disappears. My that sucker can climb.
At some point I fell asleep. I don't know whether my visitors returned or not. I'd just as
soon forgo their company. "Coons" are known to be friendly and mischievous, and also
spreading rabies. I don't want any of that.
The incident reminded me of a time I took my family camping and as we had put the kids
down for the night, my wife and I share an encounter with two skunks around the camp fire
but I'll get into that another time.

Sunday September 23 - The Lay of the Land In the Shadows
I used to take my family to Civil War reenactments. I was and still am and history and
particularly Civil War buff. Anything on the History Channel, actually pertaining to
historical events, would catch my attention. I also had amassed a certain amount of reading
material on the subjects. Visiting and wandering over old battlefields, studying the "lay of
the land", the ridges and depressions of what would otherwise appear to be flat ground
gave me an appreciation of how tactics were developed and battles took the turns that they
did. At the time I never thought such knowledge would ever serve me in a practical way.
But life has a way of taking some unexpected turns.
Shortly after I arrived in Austin I found myself seeking out places to spend the night and
hopefully get some sleep. One thing that is noticeable at the ARCH is the number of
homeless who end up spending their mornings and afternoons nodded out. I cannot
attribute this to anything such as "lazy character". I have gotten to know some of these
people and experienced for myself that living life on the streets is no easy or desired way to
live, and accommodations have to be made in order to simply survive and avoid
confrontations with the law and stay out of jail. This include, for many, the necessity of
remaining awake for the majority of the night. The law allows one to sit in most public
areas, but beware of falling asleep. Falling asleep in public is "against the law", at least "if
you are caught", but if you can avoid being caught "no one cares".
So here I was, not knowing anyone or a damn thing about this city, except that the music is
great and Texans obviously like to be entertained and party. But I, roaming the streets, not
too far from the state capital building and everything is built up, and I mean built up "big".
It don't matter what, just make it big. So I'm beginning to roam not knowing diddly squat,
and this thought comes into my mind, "Hide in the shadows". Now I was not pondering
anything in particular. I was simply at a loss, but I started to notice the lighting and the
affect it had and the shadows it created. And here and there I found spots with enough
room to stretch out, lay down and for viewing by any in the light and eyes accustomed to
the light, I would become for all practical purposes virtually invisible. I found bushes along
fences and walk ways infrequently used, walls that cast shadows in areas otherwise quite
visible, landscapes that created safe harbors and unless someone is really struggling to see,
out of sight out of mind.
Now I have had to expand into areas further out from the downtown area. To the east and
north of the capital building, heading into the University of Texas at Austin. I had been
accustomed to the university of Maryland in College Park, MD, but this Texas thing is
humongous, and spread out and covering a pretty fair piece of ground. And between the
UoT and the capital building are hospitals and richer areas including concert hall and
sports recreation complex and park areas. And one had better be prepared to do some
walking.
And this is where all that Civil War lay of the land stuff come in. In conjunction with the
"hiding in the shadows", sleeping accommodations are relatively easy to find.
Now I usually try to wake up by 6:00 A.M. or earlier and get on my way, guaranteed to
remain out of sight and keep my rest spot secret. This morning I over slept and did not
wake up until 7:00 A.M... Thank God it was Sunday and there was very little traffic, but it
felt so good. I have not missed a nights sleep since I got here. I am one of the very few lucky
ones.
Now, I wander, and believe, all the interest and studying tactics and "lay of the land", and
seemingly out of nowhere understanding the value of using "shadows" as cover, is there
something orchestrating and putting it all together? Something that reaches back into my
life and further into history itself, revealing truth and knowledge apparently not disclosed
to all? Is it instincts? If so, why not everyone? Or is it just to those who "believe" and "try".
Yes, I believe it is more than just my own intelligence, though I also know my I.Q.. There is
too much that I do not have conscious control over, yet I see things coming together. This
would include my experiences at the Terra Haute Lighthouse Mission, and the contacts I
have made over the past recent years. There is far more that has been gained and
developing than was lost along the way. But I have found it does take senses that are
exercised and eyes that have become accustomed to seeing.
I have never had a real serious alcohol or drug problem. Sure, I have a few beers or a couple
glasses of wine occasionally, and I have been known to take a few hits when the joint has
been passed my way. But nothing that has taken control of me. Yet in the life I am living, I
am learning to take it one day at a time. There's really no other way you can do it. If I make
it through this night (whatever that night might be) (or day as the case may be), there is
another success story.

Monday September 26
Rikki Go away and stay away I guess I'll have to find a few rocks to set beside me
tonight.

One arrested across the street before lunch, reason unknown
It does not matter where one goes in the down town area, the police will find a reason to
chase you out - This was conveyed to me from another "decent" fellow
I was told the police are arriving an hour early to clear the sidewalks in from of the ARCH. It
seems to be working, it's a lot easier getting in in the mornings.
At dinner time, the police were harassing a young woman laying down in back of the ARCH.
She has a prosthetic leg They let her go after searching her things.
The "Rangers" (security) are obviously maneuvering and sizing up potential
confrontations.

Thursday September 27 - Only Sleeping?
8:00 A.M.
The ARCH has a capacity to sleep approximately 150 individuals, legally. The majority of
those who take advantage of sleeping accommodations are "case management" clients. This
meaning they are enrolled in a program where their situations are overseen and guided by
a "case manager" or counselor to help them get jobs and eventual housing. About 30-60,
who are not case management clients may participate in a lottery each night to see if they
may have sleeping accommodations for that night. Otherwise they must seek other
accommodations or take their chances on the streets.
I personally made a comment about the number who spend their mornings and afternoons
"nodded out" and I could not attach the stigma of "lazy character" on them. This needs to be
qualified and should not be taken as a generalization, because there are a great many who
simply do not fit, but rather seem to have given up on life and sleeping away their days has
become an escape, a drug or alcohol substitute. And I see these mostly in the mornings and
they are not the ones who take their chances on the streets, but rather those who have
relinquished responsibility for their lives and trust their fate and future to the "system" to
make it all come together. And all they have to do is comply when told to, work when and
where someone tells them, whatever that might be, and with a minimal amount of effort,
they can sleep their lives away. Sleeping or play games on cell phones just different
dream worlds. And how are the majority of us any different?
2:30P.M
Ignorance abounds here, and color makes little difference, just different shades of the same.
Now This certainly does not apply to all, there are those who do exhibit significant insight
and mental acumen, but they are for most part rarities.
I cannot judge individual cases, not knowing the history and circumstances that have led to
their current situation. But I can critique the judgments and current attitudes
demonstrated, and this provides enough to presume some past behaviors. And a general
(not universal) commonality seems to be a stubborn preference to retain ones own views,
ideas and limited perceptions. A wall of resistance to any and all external conceptions
exists and rather than tearing down the wall an offensive posturing is assumed to attack
"whatever", regardless of the logic and reason to the contrary may be presented. It's a
matter of "preferred ignorance".
It has been claimed the "knowledge is power", and to be sure education is a significant
move in the right direction. But there are many kinds of knowledge and much that can
never be conveyed in the classroom. Yet an attitude to continually learn, and apply what
has been learned is essential to survive in this current world's situation. Otherwise I guess
we can just satisfy ourselves nodding out at the ARCH.

Saturday September 29 - Cover Found
It rained last night poured but I was safe, totally hidden and dry. I arrived at my usual
setting early, several hours early, too early to situate myself as that would undoubtedly
draw attention. So, I sat a short way off and waited, and as I looked around, not 20 feet
behind me was another spot, in the open, uncovered but ideal for sleeping two and hidden
from all directions, as long as you don't stand up, wave your arms and holler, "Hey, here I
am". And this is about 8 feet above and not 20 feet from a main street.
As I sat it began to sprinkle, and it was pretty obvious this was going to be an all nighter. So
I decided to wander a little in hopes of finding cover. And I hadn't gone 30 yards before I
saw it. Certainly not a day time hang out but perfect for the nights. A relatively new
building situated on a hill, with the front at the top and the rest of the structure supported
progressively as it continued back, and the side extending out from the supports about 8
feet, with a walled basement under the main structure within the supports. This left an area
towards the front in under where the light could not penetrate and had obviously remained
dry since it was constructed. The ground under the extended sides was small stones, but in
the shaded area that I could utilize it was covered with a padding of dried leaves and grass
clippings. I assume it all gets blown here by the wind naturally as the entire area around
here is well kept and landscaped.
So I crawled under and up further into the darker area, took off my leather and spread it
out over the ground cover, and was set for the night. And beyond my roof it poured,
virtually all night, but I was dry and comfortable.
Later in the night one of my "coons" came from around the front of the building and went
past me down the hill, about 20 feet in front of me. It never had a clue that I was there.I
could see young people walking by returning from down town about 2:30 A.M., maybe 20
yards away, oblivious. Two "coons" reappeared, coming toward me, they had not seen me.
Sop I made my presence known by banging my half full water bottle on the wall. It made a
sound like a drum and scared the "b-jesus" out of the coons and they ran back down the hill
and into the woods. Eventually I fell back to sleep, waking at 5:30 A.M. when the alarm on
my cell phone went off. The only thing missing is a bathroom "over the river and through
the woods "

Monday Oct 1
This morning I listened into a conversation of about a half dozen (they kept coming and
going) black men. I mean they discussed everything from, economics, religion and politics.
Some of them made a lot of sense. And some merely towed the party line concerning
religion, or race relations. But regardless of how much sense any of them made their
rhetoric still turned out to be 50% common sense and about 50% bullshit. I did not enter
into the discussion as this seemed to be a black man's convention, but they appeared to
welcome my on looking and occasional agreement here and there. In any case the part that
I think that most of them seemed to get right is the amount of bull shit we are all shoveled.
The thing that impressed me more than anything was the fact that "they" seemed to get it. I
just wonder how long it will take the rest of us to catch up to their level of insight.
We have two new "Rangers" (security), but there was something significantly different
about their walk through they were wearing guns and had hand cuffs attached to their
belts, not the usual case at all. Normally the Rangers have to call in the police for anything
significant or requiring an arrest. After lunch the guns were gone I just found it
interesting and wonder what is going on.

Tuesday October 2 - No Tolerance or Overkill
We're standing in line for lunch. A police car pulls up in front of us, parked opposite the
direction of the parking lines. An officer gets out and points at a black man walking down
the side walk. He is told to put his hands and possessions on the hood of the police car.
"What did I do? I just got out of jail."
A second police cruiser pulls up next to the first and a second officer gets out to observe. A
few moments later a third cruiser pulls up across the street and puts its flashing lights on. A
third officer gets out and comes to the scene.
The first officer and the black man are engaged in a conversation, and the black man is
obviously frustrated. The officers confer among themselves, they run the mans I.D. and
issue him a ticket for J-walking. In his case, he did not make it across the street until after
the "Walk" lights had changed.
The black man gathers his belongings and hurries down the walk to catch his bus. The
officers continue conversing among themselves, looking around at the crowd of us who are
obviously interested in what is going on. One at a time they get in their cars and pull off
behind each other. The car in front has his lights flashing. As the others catch up he turns
off his lights.
Over the past several days similar incidents of harassment have occurred. I do not believe
that I personally have anything to worry about though. Since I arrived in Austin and the
beginning of this "crackdown" I have had my I.D. Checked several times and have no
warrants pending. I have told officers exactly how I got here and what my intentions are,
and have engaged several in pleasant conversation. They see me standing nearby when
they are doing their duty and show no interest in me. I do what they ask me to stay off
the downtown streets in the evenings and night.
Addendum: Since I wrote this Mary has arrived and joined me. She is also witness to some
of the doings of the police recently, including harassments and arrests for sitting on the
sidewalk. This crackdown, I have been told by police officers, will continue through this
month. Some being harassed and arrested I have no pity for, others are caught in between


Monday October 8 - The real adventures of Bonnie and Clyde
This will probably be covered in at least 2 or possibly 3 posts.. It was an eventful weekend.
Friday Oct. 5
So me and this certain blonde woman" from Indiana are sleeping, well out of view, behind
some small trees and large bushes. She wakes up and wakes me and says, "It's 9:30, we
better move."
"Why now", I ask.
"Before the sprinkler comes on."
"OK, but that's not for another hour."
"Well, I'm not getting soaked." And we move over to our alternative behind the wall in the
shadow and retire for the better part of the night.
Later that night, early morning around 4 A.M. we wake and talk and engage in a little horse
play.
"Shhhh!!! I hear something, be quiet." We both freeze and lay low to the ground. I slowly
rise and peek over the wall. "There's two men," I whisper and duck down. We compose
ourselves and continue to listen to the sounds of vehicle doors and tailgates opening and
closing, equipment being thrown on the ground. Lying closer to the wall, the sounds of
something being erected keep us cowering in place, out of sight and undetected.
Trying to remain as much in the shadow as possible I crawl behind some bushes growing
on our side of the wall at the top of the steps and peer through the branches extending
above the wall. I look for a moment and crawl back, "It looks like they are setting up some
Porta-potties". We stay calm and quiet and put, not daring to risk exposure.
I crawl back to look through the bushes again. A large, circus type canopy has been erected
in the middle of some bushes circling a part of the walkway. We continue to lay low. The
workers are getting closer with whatever they have to do. The sound of equipment being
dropped on the walk just on the other side of the wall has us has us alert and ready to bolt,
but we remain still, clinging to the corner where the wall meets the ground.
I return to peek over the wall through the bushes. Another canopy is being erected on the
other side of the walk opposite the wall. I crawl back and signal my "CBW" to gather her
things and crawl along the wall to an area above the bushes and in under them that will
conceal her better. She does so and I cover her with my black leather jacket (her white
winter coat shows up to well in the light). I push my way under the bushes and lay my head
on her side. And we wait, listening to the sounds of workers doing "whatever" but no one
has an interest to look over the wall. My alarm on my cell phone goes off as I am attempting
to remove the battery. I stuff it under some clothes and attempt to smother the sound as it
progressively gets louder. For some strange reason or the grace of God, we are not
detected.
It is getting later than I feel comfortable hanging around. I peek through the bushes at the
second canopy. It is covering a significant amount of electronic equipment, either PA amp
and mixers or broadcasting gear. It is obvious they are not going to leave this kind of stuff
unattended. We have got to get out of here.
We crawl along the bushes back away from the wall. It is in the light but we don't have any
choice, it's the only way out of here that does not completely expose us.
Now on the back of the trees and bushes that we originally came to in the early evening, we
are relatively secure, but still need to exit the area. I walk around to a place (still hidden) to
better observe what is going on. More workers are setting up ground markers for some
kind of games that will occur later in the day. This is a long open area that we will need to
cross and exit on the other side and down the hill, over a wooden bridge and out of here.
A worker becomes curious what is on the other side of these bushes. He walks around in
front of me. He sees me and freezes. I think he is as much in shock as I am. He walks away. I
walk around and get my "CBW" and tell her "He's seen me, we've got to go."
We both return to my observation post and the worker comes around again, sees us both
and walks back up the hill. I tell my "CBW" Put this over you", signifying my black leather,
"It's harder to be seen. We walk straight across the field close to the edge of the woods, and
down the hill and across the bridge." She looks at me and says "I don't want any more of
the Bonnie and Clyde shit." I forgot to tell her if anyone says anything, "Keep going" We
walk across the field and no one says anything, down the hill and across the bridge. We are
in the clear, I begin to breathe again She has a cigarette.
That was Friday night/Saturday morning
More to come...

Tuesday October 9 - The Further Adventures of Bonnie and Clyde
So it is Saturday October 6, and we can't go back to our regular lair, somebody's throwing a
party there. This town goes Longhorn crazy and Saturday was the day to do it with a
vengeance. See, it's opening home game and a month ago they had a pre-season scrimmage
and that was a party and a half. But today is the official thing and the radio stations are
throwing their pre-game parties wherever they can. And wouldn't you know it, our abode
got selected. So, we went out for the night. Never mind that this is the coldest night of the
fall season so far, down to 41 degrees F. Now I know that to many of my friends and
relatives up north 41 degrees ain't that cold. But try lying on the ground or hard pavement
and the wind blowing at about 40 mph, you'll freeze your ass off, guaranteed.
So, rather than make our way back to the home, we made ourselves fed and wandered
about until we found what seemed to be a relatively uninhabited park. This was just
outside the downtown area, but to the southeast. There was a tree, nice and large, with
branches that hung down to the ground at their ends, about 240 degrees of the
circumference of it, and underneath was clean and dry. We got there about 5:30 P.M. and
shifting a couple of times wound up with me seated, leaning against the tree, facing away
from the road and Mary sitting between my legs, leaning back on my chest, and eventually
we fell asleep.
About 11 P.M. I woke up, I look to my left and "Oh shit", there about 50 yards away was a
cop, mounted on horseback just standing there. The horse was grazing. I woke up Mary,
"Shhh be very quiet and don't move There's a cop over there on horseback" Then,
the cavalry arrived. Three more mounted police riding all over the place. They began
circling the park and us. It appeared as if they were looking for someone. There had been
several homeless men who had wandered through earlier.
After circling us, about a dozen times and investigating various structures around the park,
a couple of them congregated about the first cop and grazed their horses. A female
mounted officer then approached us on horseback and from about 20 yards away said, "Sir,
I'm sorry, but the park is closed, you'll have to go", I think she was smiling about the
situation. "Yes Ma'am", I said and we gathered our things and walked towards down town.
Leaving Joan Wayne and her three John's, we headed toward downtown and 6th St.. No
remember, This is Texas, and things have a history of being a little wild, and Texans love to
party and they are Longhorn football crazy, and this evening was the opening home game.
They played West Virginia and there was a sizable West Virginia contingent, a hell of a lot
of blue jerseys with the West Virginia WV mixed among the UoT longhorn burnt-orange,
white and black. But they had 6th St. turned into one massive party, with all the crossing
streets blocked off for about 6 or 8 blocks. Mary and I tried to walk along the sidewalk, but
no good, may as well get out in the middle of the street if you wanted to get anywhere.
Now, also remember, this is the coldest night of the fall season so far. Mary and I are
dressed in our Yankee comfort (such as it is) and still shivering. These kids (and most were,
except for an occasional parent alumni) all hyped on booze, football and whatever, in Tee
shirts and halter-tops. Appearance is much more important than common sense.
WE made our way from one end of 6th to the other and eventually turned up Congress and
made it to a Subway sandwich shop, and sat and enjoyed a meal as civilized human beings.
Now we could not go back to our usual retreat, so we headed past the capital and down
12th St. As cold and windy as it was I figured hovering close to a building and absorbing its
heat would be best bet for the time and I knew of such a spot, well hidden.
WE made it to our place for the night, a notched out corner of a parking garage that I had
utilized several times prior. We huddled together as close as possible, but it was cold, I
mean "witches tit" cold. And windy, 40 + mph windy, all through the night. And yes, it felt
like our asses froze. And I might guess we could have experienced the effects of
hypothermia. But we made it through and early in the morning moved on to a location in
under a bridge along a creek side walk, after a security vehicle at the parking garage made
its rounds. Fortunately, it was on the inside and we were hidden on the out, just frozen.
Under the bridge felt warmer, and lower so the wind was not as bad. When we arrived two
other men had been standing around and decided to move on. We slept here for an hour or
so and was in no hurry to move on as it was Sunday morning and traffic would be slight
and the area mostly disserted. Eventually we made our way back to the ARCH, a bit worn,
but alive and well.

Saturday October 13 - A New Bar in Town
As an alternative to eating at the Salvation Army we occasionally sit across the street from
the ARCH on concrete bumpers that mark the end of parking spaces, and wait to see who
may show up with food. It generally is one of the local churches or a couple of food trucks
operated by a local ministry, you know, the kind of sandwich trucks we used to refer to as
the "roach coach". No such designation applies now a days.
Last Thursday we were waiting and a Jeep Cherokee pulls up across the street. A man puts
down the window and yells at us and another man parked along the street, Y'all want any
work?" I wasn't sure he was talking to us and we hesitated. He yelled again, Mary and I
looked at each other and nodded to indicate checking it out. We walked up to him and I
asked, "What do you got?" He said a new bar was opening and he needed help moving some
tables and stools and a few other things. We said sure and hopped in the back seat. The
other fellow followed us about 8 blocks to an area just on the other side of the
entertainment district. We pulled in an alley behind some house and next to a make-shift
stage.. It was the back yard of an older house, there were a lot of large spools sitting around
and many of the smaller ones stacked along the side fence. You know, the kind of spools
that telephone companies and power companies hold cable on.
He explained that the largest ones would be used as tables and the smaller ones as benches
around the tables. We then proceeded shifting them around to have optimal views of the
stage. While Carter and I (the other fellow) were moving spools, Mary was emptying ash
trays and setting up candles on the tables. John, the fellow who hired us, would give me
instructions and turn me loose to get the job done. Carter was, a 69 year old black man,
used to physical work, but slow to receive instructions. We then spread some granite sand
to fill in obvious holes and wet spots on the ground and Mary raked it out smooth. This was
not done to perfection, but sufficient to get through the night.
We had priorities to accomplish before it was time to open, and that meant getting the
stage ready. John told us what needed to be done and it was obvious he wasn't sure how to
accomplish it. I took over directing operations at this point. I told John that in years past I
had put on concerts in the parks back in Maryland and he was confident enough to give me
a free reign as I explained what I was going to do.
First, there was a loosely built gazebo frame work over the stage with some lattice on top of
it. We needed to pull a tarp over it as a roof to protect the musical equipment in the event
of wet weather. It would also make the stage appear complete under the proper lighting. I
got a long piece of rope and tied it to the corners of one side and had Carter and John pull it
over the lattice and frame work while I used a step ladder to move around and guide it and
keep it from becoming snagged. I then tied it down at strategic points.
Next was the lighting. John had a boat load of Christmas lights to be strung around the top
of the stage. I first tried using a staple gun but very quickly the staples were gone and none
to be had. Using a little ingenuity I utilized nails that were half hammered into the frame
and wrapped the light cord around them and was able to encircle the top of the stage twice
and along the corners. This done, the musicians started setting up their equipment.
Next was to string some lights from the house to the stage to make for a well-lit area. I
pulled these off the side of the house and hung them from the back porch to the corner of
the stage.
Now imagine if you will, the back porch is now the bar. Along the back, next to the stage is
an ice cream vender. From the other side of the stage along the back side fence, are a
Vietnamese sandwich vender, a Mexican food vender and a Greek food vender. At the front
of the house are set up stools and chairs and on the one side of the front yard a mixed drink
vender. Men and Women's port-a potties are on the other side of the house.
There was one more task to be completed. Wendy, the owner of this enterprise had started
putting up a fence across the front to mark the property boundary. She needed to be at
other tasks so Mary and I finished putting up the last half of the front fence. With this our
work was done for the night.
Carter worked till 7 and Mary and I worked till 8, putting in 4 hours each. We were paid
well, in cash, and Mary and I got a free meal and beer. We returned the next day to spread
more granite for an hour and a half.
Through all this, because permits were not all in order, the band could not play except for
doing their sound check. Wendy and John went to get the permits taken care of on Friday,
but I think they may have been expecting too much too fast. But , as things are put in order,
it appears we may have some regular cash in the future.

Friday October 19 - Cleaning up
We are sitting on a parking place bumper across the street from the ARCH, waiting to see
what, if any, food trucks or ministry may show up. We usually sit away from the activity
around the Arch as we find much we would rather not be associated with, whether that be
illegal drug activity or crazy, weird people, and there are enough of them for sure. It is
getting late, later than usual for food to become available, and I am beginning to consider
our options.
A police cruiser pulls up across the street in front of the ARCH, an officer gets out and
points at an Hispanic man. He gets his I.D. and begins to run a check on it. The police
"paddy wagon" pulls up just down the street from us, close, about 30 yards away. Another
officer gets out and walks across the street to assist the first officer.
The Hispanic man is handed back his I.D. and another black man seems to be the focus of
the officers attention. They have him stand in front of the police cruiser and the second
officer returns to the paddy wagon, reaches into the side door and then returns to the
cruiser with some paper work and ties used as hand cuffs. The officers then tie the black
man's hands behind him. It appears that they are having trouble but eventually cuff him
and put him in the back of the cruiser.
The first officer returns to three individuals, including the first Hispanic man, and
converses with them. The Hispanic man appears to be arguing, but the officer seems to pay
little attention to him. The officer returns to his squad car and is writing something on the
hood of the car. He returns to the three and hands one of them what appears to be a ticket.
He hands it to a woman with a prosthetic leg who had been the subject of some harassment
for sleeping behind the ARCH about a week earlier.
The officer from the paddy wagon returns to the paddy wagon and waits. The first officer,
after doing some paper work on the hood of his car, gets in and begins to pull away,
followed by the paddy wagon. From the direction they head they are not going directly to
the jail or the police station.
The woman handed the ticket returns to her usual seated position. The Hispanic man and a
short Hispanic woman are in heated argument. The three eventually disperse and blend
with the rest of the gazers on.
The police have been involve in a concerted "crack down" focused particularly on the
homeless for just over a month. At an ARCH town hall meeting, Wednesday October 17, we
were told that in this period the police had made over 500 arrests involving the homeless.
The ARCH services between 400 and 500 clients a day. Of this number, a great many are
not actually homeless but rather "users", taking advantage of whatever "free" services they
can; essentially exploiting the system, finding the easiest way to "get over".
Most of the "homeless" that I have met are legitimately "homeless" for whatever reason,
they are not "illegitimate users" of the system. Nor are they illegitimate drug offenders that
hang out, outside the doors of the ARCH. Too be sure, there has been, and to a great degree
continues to be a significant drug culture" that has found residence around the ARCH, but
it is slowly diminishing. The main problem as I observe it, is the police missing the mark.
Yes, they made a great many arrests for "minor" infractions, but they are missing the target
if eliminating the drug problem is their goal.
While the arrest yesterday was being made what went undetected was the strategic
retreats made by the more abusive. What goes undetected or possibly ignored is the open
use of "pot" as innocents wait in lines. What is overlooked is the fact that there is a
mentality that places guilty abusers over against not only law enforcement but the innocent
homeless caught between a rock and a hard place. The guilty abusers do not care or give a
damn about any but themselves. They exercise their lives without regard for any kind of
human regard, whether it be butting to the front of lines or tossing "roaches" at the feet of
another, thereby placing the innocent in jeopardy and under suspicion.
Most know that I would like to see the repeal of laws against the use of marijuana, but
unfortunately that does not appear to be happening very fast. And as a result, police have to
enforce laws that make criminals of what are otherwise average citizens. "Pot" use is the
most blatant violation of the drug laws around the ARCH, but if these violations are the
cause of harassing actions by law enforcement, I would rather the place be cleaned up and
the innocent homeless be given the unobstructed availability of the resources they can use
and need, but "cleaning it up" implies more than just "pot" and drugs. It means dealing with
any and all who are not suffering the state of homelessness. The users, abusers and
waster's of their own lives needs to be dealt with and not a blanket indiscriminant
condemnation of the unfortunates living on the streets or in shelters.

Sunday October 28 - Classes and Religion
There are two ideas that are going through my mind, or should I say "My mind keeps
returning too". First, the idea of "class struggles". By this I do not mean economic classes, or
social as in the concept of nobility and peasantry or even political, which may be tied to
either. But rather the classes as may be distinguished by attitude and developed mature
character. The second is the notion that religion's purpose was first as the teacher or
framework to explain the realities we experience, based on the known sciences. These
sciences being astrology and natural knowledge of the world we inhabit. Religion being
post shamanic and only narrowly retaining some minute evidence of this predecessor,
progressively losing most or all shamanic vision as doctrine and creed became more
authoritative and established. Eventually religion ceased to convey the knowledge
garnered through the insights into the "real" world and became a tool of control, relying on
misinterpreted and manipulated myths, at the whim and will of those sufficiently in power
and seeking ways and means to maintain that position and power.
The "homeless" give little thought to anything that does not profit for survival. By the
"homeless I, for the greater degree, do not include those who indiscriminately abuse social
services intended for the less fortunate, without homes or shelter, although this is a very
grey area and I cannot be absolute in my own judgment. There are the "homeless" who
violate virtually any and every code of normal social conduct. Generally I would find these
to be younger whites and blacks with attitudes, wishing to strike back at institutions and
families that do not measure up in their eyes. These more often than not indulge in the use
of drugs and alcohol and be damned what tomorrow brings. Among the black community
ages run higher, into old age. I leave it to others to parse out the reasons for this as I am not
an expert on racial issues or the experience of blacks as individuals or as a race. I only
observe what is the obvious. Yet, as regards the homeless as such, drugs and rebellious
behavior is not the primary concern or desire, only getting enough to eat, a place to sleep
and make it to the next day and hopefully a little progress out of what seems dire
conditions.
In the overall homeless community I find classes of people. I know the idea of "classes"
offends many, from different political ideologies, but for sake of my explanation and
argument I will refer to "classes". On average, most would qualify as normal, decent,
average "Joes". They do not over demand or expect such as cannot be logically expected.
They do not raise a lot of "guff" when things do not work as expected, but rather work their
way through difficult situations, doing what they "got to do" to make it to the other side.
Then there are those who do whatever is necessary, pushing their way to the front and past
showing no respect for any but themselves. These begin the descent from common
courtesy and into the abyss of anti-social behavior. Then there are the manipulators, the
opportunists. These feign friendship and desire to barter favors, and for a while seemingly
altruistic actions begin to draw the unsuspecting in, only to be caught in another web of
deceit and possibly becoming a snare too difficult to escape. Then we have the preachers.
These come in two flavors, the ones who are truly "brainwashed" and have to do
everything in their power to convert you and then those who find religious verbiage and
dogma a convenient harbor and escape from their own responsibility for the consequences
of their own reckless and unthinking actions in their own lives. This includes virtually all
loud mouth drunks and drug users preaching to any and all and nobody. Then there are
those with legitimate mental and psychological deficiencies. All too often using their
infirmity as a convenient excuse to ignore usual common courtesy. Beyond these those who
find any excuse to justify rude, self-centered behaviors to the disrespect of any. And of
course those who simply don't give a damn, no excuse is necessary. Unfortunately it is all of
these who are the recipients of the services offered and all to often, the more offensive and
obnoxious one may become, the more one is treated with "kid gloves", the more civil and
courteous suffering impunity, the result of placating the unruly and hoping to keep them in
line.
But there is a turn in attitude I am observing. Hither to I have observed and acted myself
without asserting my rights or the rights of others as they are infringed upon. Others, of a
more decent character, as well as myself, are speaking up and putting ourselves at risk as
the less noble characters attempt to pull their "tricks", get in another's face, butt in line and
such. Too be sure there is risk, a fight could ensue, but more often than not, the offending
party will get the message, they are being watched, and not by security, but by us, the ones
they have to sit with and eat with, and we aren't putting up with your crap anymore. Too be
sure, one person cannot stand alone, but when two or three begin seeing the same thing
and have the "balls" to speak up, maybe not at first, not immediately, but progressively, the
offenders back down. They eventually get the message. And yes, there is the risk of things
backfiring, or reprisals, wherever. Such is the nature of some characters.
But as I look at these classes of characters I can't help but wonder and ask, "What
differences are there in these 'homeless' that is not the same in the overall gamut of
society?" And I cannot see anything different overall. The only difference is that in the
homeless community the guise of civilization is breaking down. In the overall "civilized"
world the same character faults exist only hidden, disguised by the illusion of being
civilized.
I once had lived with an idyllic concept of how humans were to relate to one another. I had
egalitarian notions that all are equal, and one man's truth and value were as important as
another's. And, to be sure, if democracy is our ultimate ideal then egalitarianism may be
justified. But that is not the real world. The real world is full of multitudes of "me first and
damn the rest". And this makes for no real civilization or dynamic human relations which
lend support to human advancement. But I could not see this as long as the trappings of
civilization were sufficiently in place. It is not a "housed" or "unhoused" homeless problem.
It is a human character problem. It is not a lack of religion problem, it is a need for a
relevant religion problem. A religion that takes into account all the new and advancing
concepts, theories and facts upon which the whole of our technological world is built upon.
I have no problem with "myth" as such. But myth needs to be relevant and understood as a
"picture", a "framework", metaphor, and not as a literal testimony of reality. Our religious
myth needs to teach us of our connection to ourselves, each other, our world and the
universe.
Concepts of the past, based on the limited knowledge and understanding of the times have
had their multi-millennial reign. We have moved into a new millennium, our "faith" in our
"gods" has need to keep pace and communicate in the language and knowledge of the
present.
I believe should our "faiths" not evolve we face the disintegration of our world cultures.
Possibly to be replaced by totalitarian states willing to establish themselves as the ultimate
reality to which we all bow down.
My sister once told me something my father told her as she was embarking on a new life in
the west. "There are the fuckers you don't know, and there are the fuckers you know."
the implication being trust no one even those you think you know. I wish I had such a
conversation with my father but our relations were always strained through my teen years
and virtually non-existent later in my teens and early twenties.
Experience, in what may be considered the most trusted of social settings has confirmed
this cynical attitude. Religious settings (churches and other institutions) have proved to be
the most unreliable when it comes to trusting their integrity. Now I do not wish to
condemn unequivocally all the out workings of these institutions, but merely point to the
fact that they are managed and run by finite, imperfect human beings whose primary
concern is ultimately their own wellbeing, and there is no such thing as an objective
decision as such. Decisions will always reflect ones personal wellbeing, or the wellbeing of
those one is closest too.
This being the case, whether it is a religious or secular institution makes little difference.
They are both managed and manned by imperfect human beings. The only advantage, or
probably more to the fact, disadvantage the religious institution has on the secular is there
is a presumed altruistic motive that supposedly surpasses the secular. But if the actions and
attitudes of the religious adherents does not compliment the official doctrine and dogma,
the religious suffers the reality and embarrassment as being caste as hypocrites.
Unfortunately many, if not all religious groups rely on past reputation to carry them
through potentially embarrassing situations. It all comes down to "image". If you can make
the public believe anything they will be reluctant to admit that anything different is the
reality. That is precisely the strength that current religious institutions enjoy, two thousand
years of acceptance. And we are all, to some degree, educated and taught to think in terms
of this religious framework.
But times are changing, progress continues and science advances ever so slowly, often in
spite of some of our most noted scientists. And religion, of needs to survive, will adapt
accordingly. The alternative is too dire to consider.
Amidst all this confusion of attitudes, classes and adaptation there are "wild cards". In the
situation here in Austin the homeless have a support system in place. The politics
surrounding the existence of this is too complicated to know at present what will be the
future. Yet, for the present, such support exists and as has evolved there are individuals
who lend themselves to the functioning of this system. These persons do not necessarily
make up a class of their own, but rather manifest out of and in the midst of all classes.
There are men who have made their home in relation to the support system and not out of
religious necessity, but rather innate human concern, volunteer their time and energies to
aid others, either as part of the system or independently. These are not perfect "saints" as
may be thought of in religious terms, they are faulted as any, but find it in themselves to
extend themselves beyond themselves. These have my respect, and though I know none
personally their presence and effect to the functioning and benefit of others cannot go
unobserved. It is in "their spirit" that I find hope for the future, not necessarily of the
system, but of the human species. These, regardless of the system can and will adapt and
make things function for the rest.

Wednesday October 31 - Got Her
They finally got her.
"Food Truck!!!" somebody yelled, but there was little motion in any direction by the crowd
who congregates in front of the ARCH. But we thought it prudent to get up from our seated
position on the patio and take a look around. You never know just where the food wagon
might decide to park itself and if you are not attentive a mass of flesh can engulf it and
being at the end of the line find you literally "holding the bag" empty. But as it happened
and we were looking for the food truck, it drove by and up Neches and across 8th street
and parked on the side of the road. We immediately began our quick paced walk up the hill
and into a relatively secure and front position in line.
After a few minutes, and a minimal amount of butting in line, we made it to the front and
received our meal for the evening, two bologna and cheese sandwiches, a small bag of
cheeze-its and cookies, a banana, and an eight ounce carton of milk. Not too bad actually,
and there was enough to fill us. Oh, and a cup of coffee or hot chocolate, take your pick. We
made it back down the hill to our seats on the patio, ground floor special, and had our
picnic dinner.
Across the street, between the side walk and the street, sat about a half dozen regulars,
eating and doing their usual bull shitting. After a few moments two bicycle police arrived.
They began questioning a woman sitting on the street curb, and others around her began to
disperse. At first I couldn't recognize her. She appeared better looking than I had seen her
before, hair made up well, clean clothes and colored reflecting sunglasses. I thought I
recognized her, but I could not be sure. Then she turned to reveal her profile, I knew who it
was, the woman with the prosthetic leg who had been harassed at least three times before.
The police examined her I.D. and went to one of the bikes and returned with the ties used
as hand cuffs. They were arresting her. This was not making any sense. She had only been
sitting on the street curb above a rain grate. The cops looked uncomfortable as they tied
her hands behind her back and the proceeded to do a superficial search for weapons and
such. One cop kept glancing around, monitoring the onlookers. At some point the police
paddy wagon arrived on the corner of Neches and 7th streets. The officers escorted her to
the paddy wagon and a cruiser pulled up near the parked bikes and observed.
The young woman gave no resistance. She cooperated with what I would describe as grace
and dignity. I do not know her name. I have seen her around the ARCH since I first arrived
here. She is mulatto and most she associates with are black. I do not believe she is involved
in any drug activity, other than occasionally smoking some marijuana, but for some reason
the police have repeatedly made her the target of their harassment. Now they got her.
Arrested for sitting on a curb, eating her dinner.
In the late sixties or early seventies I would have been raising hell about this. But as I
looked around there was no consolidated consensus among those standing around. Gandhi
once said to be effective as a leader "find a parade, and then get in front of it". There was no
parade to lead here. A few mumbling souls, but no direction or purpose. Only a chance to
get thrown in jail, and no one is up to that, at least not now . Not yet.


Saturday November 17 - The Paradox, Living In Austin
Today was a mixed blessing and loss. It started out at a bus stop. In our hurry to get on the
bus, half awake, and not quite in our right mind, we boarded and went about a mile. I
noticed Mary holding her day pass and told her to put it away safe. A few moments later
she looked at me, in shock, "I left my purse back at the bus stop."
"Well", I said, "We'll have to go back and get it." So we got off before our destination and
walked back to the first bus stop. Well it was gone. I checked the trash cans on each
corner, but no luck. Essentially this contained her "life" meds, I.D., birth certificate
whatever might be important and needed glasses damn.
Well, we immediately figured there are ways to replace all of these it is just a pain in the
ass to have to structure your life around all of this "stuff". So, we bite the bullet and plan
accordingly. And thus we caught the next bus and proceeded to our original destination.
We were on the way to a "Homeless Resource Fair". We had preregistered at the ARCH a
week before and they provided day bus passes for us. This "fair" is sponsored by an
organization called ECHO and their purpose is to assist the homeless, similarly to that of
the ARCH. "Front Steps" is the organization who runs the ARCH and works closely with
ECHO.
ECHO coordinates the efforts of numerous social and medical agencies and puts on this
Homeless Resource Fair once a year. And there are more agencies than I can put my finger
on who are ready, willing and able to lend their support, time and energies into this event.
And this is where the "paradox" manifests. At the fair sleeping bags and back packs are
given to the homeless. Clothes, shoes, gloves, stocking caps, medical care, dental care,
vision care, toiletries, showers, haircuts, and just about anything else you can imagine one
living on the streets might need. About 900 sleeping bags are given to any who need them,
and these provided by the Downtown Austin Community Court the same court you must
appear before if you are ticketed or arrested for sleeping in a public area. Yet, we have
sleeping bags, and back packs. Of course, I can't take my sleeping bag into the library "It's
against our rules".
This is a battle of "wills" and spiritual values I can see here in the Austin community. There
are those who would like a hard line against the homeless, and there are many. They find
the homeless presence and embarrassment. This week there is a Formula One race taking
place in Austin and the police have orders to clear the streets of the homeless. There is an
expected 200,000 international visitors coming and we don't want the homeless presence.
They smell, they beg, they are dirty and they do not reflect our capitalistic corporatist
values. They "do not" exist in "our world". At least, not if they can't be seen.
Then there are those who for whatever reason recognize that such a situation exists, which
would leave a man, a woman, a child without house or home or resources to what are
considered normal expectations in life. This causes for this are innumerable. Yes, drugs and
alcohol can play a part, so can psychological conditions, bad decision making the list can
go on and on... even matters of "no fault" must be considered. Yet there are persons of
vision and faith who realize the value of a human being, imperfect as any may be. And these
give of themselves to help, some by profession others by volunteering. And the thing that
motivates them may be just as innumerable and complex as the cause of the necessity. And,
we cannot discount the religious motivation. Yet, those who are, for the most part, are soft
spoken about it.
And I am believing, even though the city fathers and civic organizations are pressuring the
courts (and the police), not all, as part of these structures are as hard lined as the "John
Wayne" types would like them to be. After all, the courts gave me a sleeping bag.
More about this tomorrow But that sleeping bag sure made a hell of a difference last
night . Ask Mary.

Sunday November 18 - More fair Stuff
Well there are a lot more homeless around here than we originally figured. And as well, a
lot more people from the "outside" contributing their time, energy and resources to meet
the need. I can only guess at about 1500-2000 homeless and about half that number
volunteers. And at points it was a real circus. You couldn't tell what was going on, but once
you found something you could recognize things went smoother. But getting through the
plethora of venders offering services was enough to drive one crazy, if not to the point of
discouragement.
I did talk to a woman who works at the ARCH as a "case manager" and confirmed that case
management could help both Mary and myself get some things needed together, without
imposing their own ideas on us or attempting to change things we are already committed
too. So, eventually we will look deeper into the "CM" services.
There were also legal and medical providers vending their services, but we did not look
into them at this time, but it's nice to know they are there and if needed CM can make the
right connections. Mary currently makes use of the ARCH clinic and this gets her required
meds. Now I guess we'll have to look into vision care as her glasses were lost with her
purse yesterday. But the means are there.
A group known as "Mobil Loaves and Fishes" fed this entire bunch yesterday. They operate
the food trucks that frequent the area distributing meals to the poor and homeless. It was
really rather impressive. It would probably remind many of a mobile army field kitchen
and well run. They obviously have been doing this for a while and have the experience to
make it work.
The afternoon was spent laying around on the grounds of the Austin State Hospital. This is,
or at least was, a "mental hospital", although there was virtually no evidence of any current
activity. I must admit having the thought that they were "measuring us for size." There
certainly was enough room to accommodate the lot of us. The thing is, none of the real
"truly" crazies that frequent the ARCH never showed up. I guess they were scared of the
location. Possibly having been here before.
Looking at the mass of broken humanity I could not help but think of Moses, leading the
children of Israel out of Egypt. That must have been one hell of a job. And though so many
have come together to provide basic services and needs, and even though some parrot the
religious rhetoric espoused by well-meaning providers, there was no value system which
met the real spiritual needs of these who at the near close of the fair wandered off in their
separate directions. Each finding their own ways in a setting increasingly hostile to them. It
reminded me of the final scene of my favorite motion picture, "Lawrence of Arabia".
Lawrence, who at the end of World War One tried to help organize the Arabs into an
independent entity, had just been promoted Colonel in the British Army. He was being
chauffeured to a port and return to England. Along the way he passed Arab Bedouins he
had led and fought along with. They, returning to what he knew was, for the time, was to be
a life of subjection to Imperial powers, greater than what they were capable of contending
with. I believed he realized "he was British", he could not help them, they had to learn and
come to a place where they could help themselves. A place of adapting to the world, as it is,
and yet retaining the values and traditions that make ones culture unique and valuable.
Despite all the negativity I believe there is a sort of "tribal" value system that is being
experienced amidst the homeless. Similar to the "hippy" experience of the sixties. True,
there is No unifying philosophy or code of ethics, except the natural recognition of the
individual conscience for that which is innately and universally accepted good and of value.
It is not perfect, but potential. And There are rebels, unwilling, or unable, to accept any
value system.

Monday November 26 two Ghosts and the Boogeyman
From early October for the next six weeks we had been camping most nights in a small
park at the south end of the University of Texas. On game nights we would find
alternatives so the kids could throw their party and we wouldnt be in the way. This was a
pretty well hidden location as we eventually pulled back in under the cover of some trees
and bushes which hung over us as a canopy. But, eventually we were paid a visit by the UT
campus police, three of them at 2:30 in the morning. And informed we could not continue
to stay there. We had our I.Ds run again and cooperated as we were instructed and the
campus police were polite and cordial enough as they recognized we were no threat.
So we began our search for another spot we might regularly return too. It took a couple of
days, and during this time we would make do wherever we happened to be. We are now
located at a spot, to remain undisclosed for the time being, that is relatively well hidden
and out of sight of most, as long as we do not stay past sunrise each morning. We will
continue to search for an even better site, but walking distances and those fucking Austin
hills can prove inhibiting.
Shortly after we were evicted from our first base we received sleeping bags, which greatly
improved our comfort through the nights that are beginning to turn cold. We made it
huddled under a few blankets, but there is a hell of a difference.
Sleeping bags in order, I am now thinking about things to carry us through the winter. I
have been told snow is generally not a problem here, but we might expect rain and the
coldest months are the end of January through February. Considering personal past
experience camping, I have little doubt a couple of Yankees can make it through a
confederate winter with a little planning and common sense. But, there are shelter
options available should we find the need. Beginning this week we will be looking into
case management services to help us get our birth certificates and Texas I.Ds together.
We will look into new glasses for Mary come mid December.
Continued
Charles Dickens, in his A Christmas Carol, wrote of three ghosts, the ghost of Christmas
Past, the ghost of Christmas present and the ghost of Christmas yet to come. The second,
the ghost of Christmas present was described thus: It was clothed in one simple green
robe, or mantle, bordered with white fur. This garment hung so loosely on the figure that
its capacious breast was bare, as if disdaining to be warded or concealed by any artifice. Its
feet, observable beneath the ample folds of the garment, were also bare; and on its head it
wore no other covering than a holly wreath, set here and there with shining icicles. Its dark
brown curls were long and free; free as its genial face, its sparkling eye, its open hand, its
cheery voice, its unconstrained demeanor, and its joyful air. Girded round its middle was an
antique scabbard; but no sword was in it, and the ancient sheath was eaten up with rust.
Towards the end of this ghosts visit with Scrooge, Scrooge noticed something peculiar
and: "Forgive me if I am not justified in what I ask," said Scrooge, looking intently at the
Spirit's robe, "but I see something strange, and not belonging to yourself, protruding from
your skirts. Is it a foot or a claw?"
"It might be a claw, for the flesh there is upon it," was the Spirit's sorrowful reply. "Look
here."
From the foldings of its robe, it brought two children; wretched, abject, frightful, hideous,
miserable. They knelt down at its feet, and clung upon the outside of its garment.
"Oh, Man! look here. Look, look, down here!" exclaimed the Ghost.
They were a boy and girl. Yellow, meager, ragged, scowling, wolfish; but prostrate, too, in
their humility. Where graceful youth should have filled their features out, and touched
them with its freshest tints, a stale and shriveled hand, like that of age, had pinched, and
twisted them, and pulled them into shreds. Where angels might have sat enthroned, devils
lurked, and glared out menacing. No change, no degradation, no perversion of humanity, in
any grade, through all the mysteries of wonderful creation, has monsters half so horrible
and dread.
Prior to Thanksgiving I had begun to wonder whether I, or should I say we would have
found ourselves under this spirits robe. I dont believe that to be the case now.
You see, over this week of Thanksgiving I have witnessed, and been the beneficiary of a
lot of peoples generosity. Starting with the Resource Fair for the Homeless, and
Thanksgiving dinners five out of seven nights, including a virtual stampede of volunteers
stepping over themselves (and occasionally us) to see that we had anything and all we
wanted. I mean I have never seen so much volunteer service put forth by a community.
Many, if not most, came from some religious setting, many, just out of the kindness of their
hearts. On Thanksgiving Day itself, in the parking lot across from the ARCH, Individuals as
well as Church groups were constantly parading in with food, and some with blankets and
other assorted clothes. It has been said, and more than once, it is impossible not to eat in
Austin, and from what Ive been experiencing, that holds a lot of truth.
It is true, on a natural way of thinking, there could have been a lot more in the way of
coordination, spreading the blessing over a longer time frame. But that is not the
point. The point is people, for whatever reason giving of themselves. And there is no way
any of us receiving can be thankful enough. Yet there are those who can only find their
place under that robe. You see it in the faces all the day long. You hear it in the bitching and
griping, ignorance and want.
"Spirit! are they yours?" Scrooge could say no more.
"They are Man's," said the Spirit, looking down upon them. "And they cling to me,
appealing from their fathers. This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both,
and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written
which is Doom, unless the writing be erased
I am finding, I believe WE are finding, we do not have to suffer the fate of ignorance and
want. We are being provided for. Some may simply attribute this to Gods grace upon us.
Others, our following the innate connection we have with the universe, and subsequently
seeing things fall into place. I dont believe it matters which you believe. Its all the same.
Only different methods and perspectives, but, its all the same. Yet I do wonder, as some
have expressed, its great to have this kind of outpouring at this holiday season, but what
about the rest of the year? I have no answer. I can only attest to what I have been seeing
and personally experiencing, and something is working, and Im not to overly concerned
about the rest of the year. It will take care of itself when it gets here.
Continued
Scrooge faced a third ghost: Scrooge looked about him for the Ghost, and saw it not. As the
last stroke ceased to vibrate, he remembered the prediction of old Jacob Marley and lifting
up his eyes, beheld a solemn Phantom, draped and hooded, coming, like a mist along the
ground, towards him.
THE Phantom slowly, gravely, silently, approached. It was shrouded in a deep black
garment, which concealed its head, its face, its form, and left nothing of it visible ... But for
this it would have been difficult to detach its figure from the night, and separate it from the
darkness by which it was surrounded.
He felt that it was tall and stately when it came beside him, and that its mysterious
presence filled him with a solemn dread. He knew no more, for the Spirit neither spoke nor
moved.
Friday night, late, or early Saturday morning, 2 or 3 A.M. probably, we had a visitor.
Apparently Mary heard something first, but she thought it was me, so she stayed huddled in
her sleeping bag. I heard someone come along side me, and I believe they said Excuse me.
My first thoughts were Damn Its the cops. Then I thought, Wait a minute, something
is wrong here. The cops would be shining their flashlights at us to keep us blind. And there
were NO lights. So I peeked out from under my sleeping bag, and whats this I see. The ass
end of someone crawling up the hill with their pants down, I mean bear assed. I was a bit in
shock, but I continued to watch and whoever this was found them a place about 15-20
yards up the hill from us. I wasnt about to challenge this visitor. He was minding his own
business and keeping a safe, respectful distance, so You stay there and well stay here.
A bit later I started moving around a bit and this must have awaken him. I could tell where
he was by his silhouette, other than that, he was pitch black. He apparently stood up, I
thought he was going to leave, but as I watched, he appeared to be heaving throwing up
what may have been consumed earlier in the evening. His head hung down and I could tell
he had a large hoody on and he reminded me of this third ghost, or the grim reaper. Then
I thought Its the boogeyman.
Boogeyman is an amorphous imaginary being used by adults to frighten children into
compliant behavior. The monster has no specific appearance, and conceptions about it can
vary drastically from household to household within the same community; in many cases,
he has no set appearance in the mind of an adult or child, but is simply a non-specific
embodiment of terror. Parents may tell their children that if they misbehave, the bogeyman
will get them. Bogeymen may target a specific mischief for instance, a bogeyman that
punishes children who suck their thumbs or general misbehavior, depending on what
purpose needs serving. In some cases, the bogeyman is a nickname for the devil. Wikipedia
Online Encyclopedia
He slid down the tree he was against and laid there for the rest of the night. I was watching
him for the better part of the night from then on until I eventually fell asleep. I woke about
5:30, we got ourselves together and went on our way. Our visitor was dead to the world
and oblivious to anything from his descent down the tree on.
I believe we have no ghosts to be afraid of, I believe the boogeyman is real, but more
scared of us than we are of him, and if we pay him no mind, he will not come back. The
ghosts are illusions, the product of one mans genius. They are metaphors of life. We can
accept them, and live in them, or we can dispel them. Its our choice. Its our choice to
remain in ignorance and suffer want, or defines our own reality around us, homeless or
housed comfortably in the midst of family and friends.


December 12, 2012
We come back from the library, and sit across the street, on the grass next to the parking
lot. You see, we dont feel that comfortable mixing in the usual bullshit that occurs amidst
the crowd on the sidewalk next to the ARCH. We are waiting for the preacher lady to
show up who is there every Monday and Tuesday evening along with one of several groups
of volunteers, to feed the homeless. Every so often we notice a police squad car passing by,
slowly, checking things out. Eventually more from the crowd across the street at the ARCH
come and sit down beside us. Nothing really happening, just sitting, waiting for dinner. A
squad car pulls by, and then turns into the parking lot. We all take it as a message to get up,
stand up, and move. We dont want to be accused of anything inordinate. As we get up we
look behind us. There, not 20 feet away, three bicycle cops, standing watching us. No one
saw them show up, but they are there. The squad car pulls up next to them. Mary and I take
a walk up the hill, just to get a little distance away. We stand under a tree and observe, just
out of the way enough and hidden by some SUVs and cars. The preacher shows up and
sets up her tables. We make our way back across the street, being careful to cross at the
corner; we dont want to be sited for J-walking. We get in line with about 150 others, maybe
more. The preacher is playing her worship music on a portable amplifier, then makes an
announcement that we are waiting for the dessert to show up. Volunteers are unloading
food and preparing to serve the nights meal. Across the street the police are waiting,
watching, and eyeing the crowd. They seem to be looking for something. Occasionally a few
of them confer and one heads on to confront someone. Nothing this time they run a
mans ID nothing. A wolf pack I feel so secure Welcome to America Land of the
Free.



January 5, 2013
Well we made it through the Christmas - New Years Holidays, it was a little bit of a blessing
and a curse. Things started out well enough I suppose, but we were hit with some bitterly
cold weather for several days and Mary came down with a cold, which she dutifully passed
on to me. That was just before Christmas, but we got through the "bitter" cold end of it, and
discovered being in a tent, in sleeping bags, cuddling together does have its therapeutic
advantages. Just before Christmas, while standing in line at Caritas for lunch, a black man
was giving all the "newbies" the rundown, on what to expect over Christmas. First,
Christmas Eve and Christmas Day we can expect people to be coming from everywhere,
doling out food and clothes, blankets and whatever they can imagine the homeless might
need. And, "and I quote" "If you see a bunch of niggers gathered around some guy shaking
hands, be sure to get in the crowd and shake the preachers hand" You can expect he will
be handing out money. Well, we did not experience anything quite like that, but all day
long, Christmas Eve, people were showing up with food and whatever. The plain fact is, we
couldn't keep up with it.
On Christmas Day we sat across the street from the ARCH, all we wanted to do was to rest
and get a few hours sleep. Yes, car loads of food and just about anything else were being
trucked in, but we didn't care. We were already full from the day before. But while we were
sitting, just minding our own business, a black man, who we had seen around the Arch for a
while, came up to us and said he wanted to give us a gift. He held out his hand and put $10
in mine. He said it was because he had watched us and respected the way we conducted
ourselves, never fighting (I corrected him with "in public") and being a "civil" example. He
told me to get something special to eat with the "lady". Well, what do you say? Thank You.
About an hour later we were sitting, minding our own business and a young man comes up
to us and taps us on the shoulder, "Would you like to go out to eat at Luby's". Luby's is
one of the nicer restaurant/cafeterias, and the food is the best. Mary and I looked at each
other and said "Sure", we then followed the young man to his car, where his mother was
waiting and we all introduced ourselves. While driving to Luby's, about 6 miles away, the
young man called his fianc and arranged for her to meet us there. There Mary and I
feasted. I mean we took advantage of it. As we finished and left, Mary and I shared how we
came to be "homeless" and returning to the center of town, they gave us each a small
financial gift and bag of assorted necessities. We departed their company and returned to
where we had originally been seated.
Over the New Years holiday a local lawyer, who works with the homeless, had a party for
the homeless at one of the larger churches and distributed thermal underwear, scarves,
gloves, hats and other cold weather necessities, and also had a top notch band entertain the
lot during the festivities.
The only real inconvenience was having to run back and forth to the pharmacy, which
didn't have the required prescription for Mary, but we managed.
So, the weather appears to be beginning to warm up, a bit. If it doesn't get any worse than it
was recently, we will do fine, neither one of us wants to go to the shelters, unless it is
absolutely called for.

Thursday January 31, 2013
We moved camp last night. For the prior couple of weeks there had been tell-tale signs of
increasing activity by park personnel near where we set up camp. There were bright yellow
ribbons hung on branches indicating a pattern of some future development, or at least
clearing of the brush and dead downed trees. Last week as we were leaving camp we saw
signs along the sidewalk and streets advising of a showcasing of upcoming restoration and
redevelopment along the creek near us. We checked out the associated web site and knew
what was up. It was becoming clear that sometime soon camp would have to be moved,
even though actual construction would not occur until this summer. There would no doubt
be engineers and park personnel traipsing through in preparation of what was to come.
As we return to our camp location yesterday evening, I could see that the wind had blown
some of the cover off our concealed belongings. This was not a major concern as nothing
had been tampered with. Then Mary brought something to my attention that was of
concern. A large log that partially blocked a pathway into the stand of bamboo and
underbrush had been moved. Not just a few inches but it had been dragged at least 15 feet
back into the brush. This log had been situated directly next to our concealed things.
Well, it was clear to me we could not, or at least should not set up camp here anymore.
Mary was very quiet and almost ready to chuck it all I.E. "We're screwed". Fortunately,
toward the end of last week (or was it earlier this week, I forget) we had taken a walk a bit
more than a mile north exploring and searching out potential sites to relocate our camp,
and did find a few prospects. So after commiserating a while, we waited for it to get a bit
darker. I then got the tent and sleeping bags and we made our way just under a mile up the
road and set ourselves up for the night. At 3:30 A.M. this morning I was up and returned to
our original camp and retrieved the remainder of our things (a travel bag with assorted
clothes and coats, food bag and bag with cooking gear.
Our current location does afford sufficient live trees and large ferns to conceal our
belongings during the day when we are away, but tent space is minimal. Yet, I don't know
that a "perfect" location exists, but there are more options, all with their pluses and
minuses.
Mary has been going to the clinic regularly and has been advised to apply for her disability.
Earlier this week she saw a lawyer, associated with the ARCH who councils the homeless
for free, in order to get the ball rolling. We need to get by the Social Security office ASAP
and get her work history to give to the lawyer. Next week is filled with clinic and hospital
tests (heart and Mammogram). Two weeks ago it was to the hospital for respiratory tests.
Smoking has done its damage. Mary has become eligible for "Case Management" at the
ARCH. This will provide the needed guidance and incentive to get things done in order.
Im doing well, physically and spiritually. I can walk long distances without effort. After a
while Mary begins to struggle, although I think she has been doing better lately. I'm not
sure if it is the newly prescribed inhaler or getting into better physical shape. I know I am
in better shape than I have been for years. My weight is way down (all that walking) and I
really should consider some more pants with a smaller waist. I was eligible ten weeks ago
for "Case Management", but after meeting with a "Case Manager" "we" the CM and I,
decided case management would not be a good fit, considering my personal goals. So, I
trust God (you supply your own definition) and be faithful to what is before me and look
for and take advantage of opportunities as they appear and listen to and follow what I
recognize as sound advice.

February 9, 2013
Bob Couchenour wrote on University United Methodist Church's timeline.
12:41pm.
I have been in Austin since August 2012. This morning was the first time I, and my
companion visited and had the break-fast you provide for the poor and homeless. I am not
an Orthodox Christian believer but I do commend you on what you are doing. Thank you
and I look forward to a greater association and friendship in the future.

March 17, 2013
Art ... seldom ... just happens ... it takes work ... thinking ... experimenting ... applying skills
and intuition ... but always having a vision or sense of what makes something complete ... so
you rethink ... and try some new approaches ... play with the parts - to mold each one ... and
sometimes scrap the whole god damn thing ... And sometimes there is the ability to raise
the dead ... So you re-think - redo - and don't make excuses for playing dead ... unless of
course ... you really are ...

March 27, 2013
There is a preacher who stands across the street from Caritas as we are standing in line to
be served lunch. He is there every Wednesday wearing cowboy hat and boots, rain or shine,
sometimes playing on a trumpet some old time Gospel hymns. Then he launches into a
monologue at the top of his lungs, shouting across the street at us concerning our collective
and individual sins and how we are all going to hell.
Well, by the definition of some, he has the right to do this as a matter of free speech and
the protection afforded him by the Constitution of the United States as a matter of freedom
of religion. That all sounds fine and dandy, except by the same right(s) I have the right
to tell him to stick a sock in it, or where he can shove it. But if I were to do that I would be
arrested for disturbing the peace or being a public nuisance or disorderly conduct.
Well I didnt tell him what he could do with his religious babble yet. But I cannot help
but wonder how many supporters of this religious demigod have the decency to support
the right of a non-believer to have equal rights of expression?

March 29, 2013
Youd have thought that I was wanted for murder. One, two, three No four cop cars,
descending and surrounding us as we exited a public restroom at a skateboard park about
a mile and a half from where we camp. This is along our usual route into town, but we had
just recently become aware of the availability of the public toilets.
Mary went in and was taking care of business and I was stand outside the door, guarding
and making sure she had the necessary privacy. I watched several dozen kids and young
adults as they practiced their skateboarding technique and at the far end of the complex
BMX bikers diving into a huge concrete bowl constructed for their enjoyment. I really must
say that I am impressed with what the city has done and the skills I observe being
accomplished by these young people.
As I waited, and I believe most men will understand the waiting for a woman in the
restroom, a young man, I would guess in his early twenties, rode over from the bike area
and rode his bike back and forth through the curved channels usually used by the
skateboarders. He came to the end and made an abrupt turn to circle back and sped by me
within a foot or so. He was glaring bearded and resembled a young version of Chuck
Norris. He circled around and repeated his course, pulling by me even closer. It appeared
he was trying to intimidate me. I didnt move, I didnt say a thing I refused to react. He
peddled his way back to the bike section and his buddies who were waiting.
Mary came out of the restroom and I went in to do my thing. I exited the restroom and I
noticed Mary looking somewhat perplexed and staring towards the parking lot. I looked
and a police car was there and two officers walking towards the restroom. I didnt think
anything of it so we started on our way continuing into town. We had gone about twenty-
five yards and I glanced back. One of the officers was motioning with his hand for me to
return. I turned around and walked back toward him. Take your hands out of your
pockets, he said as we approached each other, and I complied holding my hands out
revealing that they had nothing in them.
We received an anonymous phone call saying there was someone suspicious in the
restroom matching your description, he said, It may have been a crank call, but we have
to check it out, and you did just come out of the restroom. He proceeded to ask for my I.D.
and I gave it to him. He was asking numerous questions concerning my situation. Is that
the only hat that you have? I wear a baseball cap that says House the Homeless, it is well
worn and sweaty. I received it on New Years Day at a function for the homeless sponsored
by a lawyer who renders aid to the homeless. It is the name of an organization he started to
secure housing opportunities for the homeless. Yes, its the only hat I have. The officer
continued questioning. The second officer looked at my I.D. and then handed it to a third
officer who took it to his car to run a check. It was then that I noticed that we were
surrounded by three squad cars.
The first officer and I continued in polite conversation. There were some questions I would
not answer regarding our living situation. Are you homeless? Yes, I replied. I then told
him about coming to Austin and having my I.D. run previously. The first time falling asleep
on the hill above the ARCH and the conversation I had with that officer. Then about another
time in October, Mary and I were in a park near downtown and it appeared Mary had fallen
asleep while I was reading. You mean you cant do that? he asked. Yep not since the
crackdown downtown. He was shocked. He was unaware of the extent of what was
happening downtown. I told him how we had migrated out of downtown to stay out of
trouble.
The third officer returned with my I.D. and handed it to the first, Hes clean, he said. My
I.D. was then returned to me and I informed the officer of the young mans actions with the
bike and I suspected it was he who made the call. You had no words with him? No,
none at all.
The officer thanked me for my cooperation and we continued on our way. It was then that I
noticed the fourth cop car.
Use the restrooms here at your own risk, and teach your children well they do in Texas.

April 13, 2013
We went to a "Homeless Resource Fair" today, sponsored by St. Edwards Catholic
University held at St Ignatius Martyr Catholic Church. Pretty damn decent and good people.
We each received a number of welcome items as well as back packs. Mary had her hair
trimmed and we were fed well, Mobile Loaves and Fishes (They know how to do it well).

April 25, 2013
I will be writing shortly concerning the past weeks events, but things are in a state of
upheaval. Mary has been diagnosed with Cancer. Don't ask what stag, we were only told
that there are spots on her lungs, throat, rib and skull and if she does not do the "chemo"
she has only months to live. Well, the Chemo is under way, she has plans to return to
Indiana as soon as Medicaid is established (probably 4-6 weeks). I most likely will follow
her in August, once I can start collecting Social Security, but I may need help getting birth
certificate. The glorious State of Texas Dept. of Public Safety is giving Mary the run around
trying to get her I.D. (Bureaucrats - only Lighthouse Mission Deskmen are worse ... or so it
seems).

May 9, 2013
Geronimo's last words were reported to be said to his nephew, "I should have never
surrendered. I should have fought until I was the last man alive."

Dont Give Up

Thursday, May 9, 2013
Obama is in town
Obama is in town and whether you can imagine it or not, hes got things really screwed up. I
know there are a few of you who are thinking So, whats new? Well nothing actually, but
you should see the streets of Austin. I mean in Washington, D.C. where he actually resides
and travels about, they dont take the precautions they are here. (Im from the D.C. area and
have spent considerable time in town).
I mean in a one block area along Trinity street between 7th and 8th Streets, I counted nine
patrol cars lined up, just sitting waiting. And as we stood on 8th street (between Neches
and Trinity) we saw a minimum of half a dozen police SUVs and an uncounted number of
cruisers, all patrolling the area to see what they could do to clear the streets of the
homeless. And in the past several days they have descended on the area around the ARCH
and Salvation Army like starving wolves. And they have cleared the streets, for the greater
part. But I know for a fact that most that are caught in their web are simply dumb about
how not to be arrested. They are not criminals, any more than I am; they are only trying to
survive. Yes, there are those I wish had been incarcerated a long time ago, those I would
consider drug heads, but indiscriminately convicting the poorer innocents is not a
fundamental value of our American system Or is it?
The amusing thing is that just two blocks away Obama is being entertained by the officials
of the city of Austin. But if you happen to be sitting in line, waiting to be fed a free meal at a
local soup kitchen, you are subject to being arrested, which many have been. You see,
sitting on a public sidewalk is against the law. Sitting anywhere, with any piece of your
personal property next to you is against the law, it is defined as camping which allows the
police to arrest you for breaking a city ordinance against camping, and the ones standing in
line, sometimes sitting at their own risk, wearing Pro-Obama Tee-shirts celebrating the fact
that one of theirs, an advocate for the poor and homeless has come to town. Never mind
that they may be arrested in the fury that ensues.

June 6, 2013
There are two churches in Austin which we have found to be particularly helpful, caring
and accommodating to us, and the needs of the homeless in general. Facebook links are
posted here:
Central Presbyterian Church
https://www.facebook.com/#!/CPCAustin?fref=ts
University United Methodist Church
https://www.facebook.com/#!/uumc.austin?fref=ts
I would not be considered an Orthodox Christian. I would undoubtedly and unashamedly
be labeled a heretic. But that does not preclude my appreciation for Christians (Liberal as
many Evangelical Fundamentalists may judge them). These two (and there are others) rank
high on my list of what it means to be "Christian". They exhibit their 'faith' in tangible ways
that make criticism a non-issue.
Kudos - Mary and I appreciate all you have done for us.

June 10, 2013
Quoting Bible scriptures does not make one more Christian or "Christ like". It does not even
make one more spiritual by any stretch of the imagination. At most it demonstrates ones
relying on a pseudo-religious superstition rather than living the content of scripture in the
context of ones life ... without pomp or circumstance. Do It ... That shows it ... nothing more.

June 19, 2013
Mary left for Terre Haute Indiana this morning. Her sister and brother in Law drove down
to get her and take her to be near her family. My plans are to do what has to be done to get
my Social Security in August and then follow her to Indiana ASAP afterwards. Make no
mistake, I like Austin ... a lot ... more than Terra Haute Indiana, BUT that is where she finds
the need to be at this time and I cannot argue the point. Being with her is a hell of a lot
more important than staying in Austin. So ... I will get my ass in gear and do what I need to
do to get this bus on the road.

June 22, 2013
Life is in limbo now, a kind of living purgatory. Ive done all that I can do. All I can do now is
wait for someone who loves me, and has the same desire for me.
Buddhists teach that suffering is the result of our desires. There is much truth to this.
Although I am not sure it is as absolute as purported. The Bible speaks of Hope deferred
resulting in the same condition, but once realized as being a fountain of life. I use my own
words here.
So I wait and hope, believing to sometime know that which is hoped for.
And where two or more agree It shall be done.
I am sitting on a bench, waiting for a bus. Not knowing whether it is on time, running late,
or detoured.
Some can relate. Many maybe most just dont get it and havent got a clue.
June 27, 2013
Just shy of a year ago I declared (in the words of Davy Crocket) that You can all go to hell,
Im going to Texas. Well, Ive been to Texas lived on the streets, under some bushes, and
in a tent for nearly a year now. My primary goal has been achieved (for all practical
purposes). That was, or is, to survive until I can collect my Social Security. My secondary
goal has remained a bit more elusive not find acquisition of a decent guitar, but that doesnt
really matter that much. I have seen what the competition is, and that does not scare me.
What is the most daunting is the fact that everyone and his brother has a guitar, and thinks
they can play it, and to sift the really good ones from the wanna-bes is a task suited for a
younger man than myself. You see in this last year I have also realized I am getting older,
and these bones feel a lot more than they used to, and at 62 Im not really expecting to turn
the world upside down simply because I can make a guitar talk. Besides, there are other
musicians elsewhere, specifically, Terre Haute In, that I can play with. So, it appears Mary
and I have found a place in Terre Haute, and I will be returning there in the next few weeks.
But as far as Texas goes, I did come, I did see, and to a degree I did conquer. What I found
is a model for the Church which to a great degree, impresses me. Not to say it is perfect,
or that I agree with the majority of doctrine. But there is enough that rekindles a hope that
maybe they can get it. Maybe. And I found in the majority of Texas attitude literally
kick ass attitude some maybe good some well just attitude.

July 9, 2013
Ticket in hand ... Ready to pack it up and hit the road. But, alas, I will have to wait till
Monday.

Hats July 12, 2013
In this Texas sun and being outside a lot, I need to wear some kind of hat. Now I do not feel
comfortable in one of those wide brimmed cowboy hats that many down here wear. An I
will not, even as a joke, put on a sombrero, which is not uncommon. But a simple baseball
cap, with a bill in the front to shade my eyes is ideal for me.
When Mary first got here and we had a little cash and not having a hat, I cleared it with her
to get one for just about five dollars. A large blue star was front center and immediately I
was assumed in the ranks of fans of the Dallas Cowboys. Not such a bad place to be, but I
dont follow football (or any other sport team). But being quiet and a disposition to be
agreeable (on matters of little importance) and bow to the expertise of self-proclaimed
authorities, maintaining a satisfactory relationship within the community was relatively
easy.
Now the Dallas Cowboys did not have a very good year and on New Years Day at a dinner
for the homeless I was able to acquire a new hat, this one with the phrase House the
Homeless on the front. But receiving the hat I was told Id have to turn in my Dallas
Cowboys hat. I think he was joking, but I responded with Well, they arent doing anything
this year and laid my Cowboys hat on the desk. My new homeless hat was not the
quality of the first, but it did have a bill and did the job of keeping the sun out of my eyes.
Now not having clippers to regularly trim my beard, it was starting to grow out and it was
not uncommon to be complimented on it. It was full and well-formed and gave the
appearance of an Old Testament prophet or Santa Clause. It was not uncommon to hear
Hey, Santa Clause from over-weight women in Wal-Mart, or frat boys half-drunk wanting
to impress some UT coed.
Now my hat was becoming well-worn and stained from the sweat of my head, my beard
untrimmed, eventually grown out about eight inches, I was often addressed by younger,
more polite street people as Hey, Old timer. Older, more mature businessmen, believe it
or not, addressed me as Sir. I often would forget what was written on the front of the hat,
as I also am unconscious of my tattoos, which are also prominent and unmistakable. But
occasionally, as I remembered, I realized I was unapologetically getting in the face of many
who would rather I, and my like, were not there. I was a reminder that the system does not
work for all. My demeanor fit the stereotype. I was not a drunkard or hopped up on drugs. I
was able to survive on the streets, never being ticketed or arrested, but I was there and
something didnt fit I didnt fit. I didnt fit the profile. Eventually, I lost that hat. It was no
great loss, I should have thrown it away a long time before.
At a Thursday breakfast at the Presbyterian Church, shortly after Mary returned to Indiana,
I was looking through a bunch of hats on a table and one kept my attention. It was
corduroy, burgundy, with a large T in the center and slightly smaller A & M on each side of
it. I knew immediately it was a Texas A and M cap, and it looked good, so I claimed it. Texas
Agriculture and Mechanics, this is a college about 60 miles east and at one time a rival
school to the University of Texas at Austin. I realized that if I wanted to get in someones
face, this was the hat to do it.
Now beard was trimmed to a civil length, and except for the fact that I usually have a
backpack on I do not appear homeless. I am approached regularly by pan handlers, but I
set them straight as to the realities. Most simply ignore my brandishing the A&M. I really
believe they are afraid of biting off more than they can chew, but there are several former
A&M alumni that have expressed their appreciation, and amidst a community, not so
distant, a respect for being bold, though I admit initially, ignorantly.

July 17, 2013
I am now in Terre Haute Indiana. Mary and I have a small but quite comfortable apartment.
All essentials for life are covered and it appears that this is where life may continue to grow
and prosper. Many things are yet to be figured out, but they are peripheral and ultimately
will work themselves out.