My Week on the Streets

With just a few dollars and and his driver's license, a college student sets off to catch a glimpse of the homeless experience.

The author, on his bed for the night

The surprisingly brisk summer night overcame us faster than the cars overhead were traveling. We had hiked over fifteen miles that day on foot. I looked at Banks and said, “Let’s take a break.” As we sat down on the dew-covered grass, I began unlacing my shoes and taking my socks off. Frustrated, we began examining the silver dollar sized sores on our feet. We hadn’t eaten in two days. In a final effort to find somewhere to sleep that night, I ventured under a highway bridge.

The noise of passing cars was so loud that I could barely hear myself think. If there was one thought that passed through my head, it was, “How in the world are we going to fall asleep under here?”

I continued to walk up the slope yelling, “Hello! Is anyone here? You’re not in trouble! We need a place to sleep…hello?” Soon a shadow figure emerged from the darkness. The figure was gesturing, but I could not hear any words. So I approached. The figure immediately took up an aggressive stance, and I finally heard what he was saying. “What the hell are you doing here?! Who told you about this place? Get out! Get the hell out of here!”

The Irish-Catholic heritage in me made my blood boil. Either way, I would have been too tired to throw even one punch. I turned around and told Banks we had to keep looking.

We continued to walk over the bridge and found a wet patch of grass near the highway under a tree: a place to sleep. From our bags we took out a thin plastic tablecloth that we had been given, our only item resembling a blanket. I hugged my backpack tightly to my chest, encouraging Banks to do the same. And there we slept cold, alone, worn out, battered, and exhausted. Our night was just beginning.

A few hours later we awoke to the sound of thunder and a torrential downpour. My eyes opened slowly as I sat up. My first words were, “I’m at my breaking point.”

Rewind three months.