Minneapolis / St. Paul Blog

The story was very enlightening, and sad. Though I have never been homeless, in this article I can see these people as human instead of just a "problem". Should I meet any of these people, I will say hello, and maybe I could help them a bit. Thanks for the look "inside" Mike.

Hello Mike,
I am a friend of Bob Mosedale's
you may remember my X who firedanced at your river party, you published here photo.
I love your articles and was wondering what ever happened to Badger the builder.
Is he building somewhere?
I do virtual reality tours (300 in Costa Rica) and would like to come with you for a sister website to an article like this one.
Thanks for all the good work!
Mark

Mike,

Excellent article. You really capture the essence of some of these people. I love your photos too. While living on the west end in St. Paul, I've known, in some form or fashion, "homeless" people, myself. Most were honest and doing what they knew how to do, to survive. I wish there were more journalists doing the fantastic job that your doing.

By the way Kelly Dobson gets kudos as well for his kind heart. To bad there aren't more people like him helping out in the world!

Excellent article that points out one of the toughest social issues to solve. There IS a safety net, such as it is, but it requires these individuals to want to dry out and accept the sometimes painful challenge of leading a "straight" life. If you talked to 100 people, 50 of them would say Kelly Dobson is God's gift to street people and the other 50 would say he is an "enabler." Would complete elimination of cash and food hand-outs "inspire" these folks to seek detox, jobs and homes? Maybe a few, but I bet just as many would wind up dead in the streets. I for one am counting my blessings and sending a donation to HOPE of Minnesota.

The chicken or the egg? Did drinking result in homelessness or vice versa? Maybe a downward cycle of both.

I liked what Kelly Dobson said (and yes Kelly, you are enabling, but that's not the important thing is it)...he said,"We're all transients". Damn straight!

Let's be honest, these people all have had many opportunities offered to them. The safety net that some folks deride so much has been extended time and time again. This lifestyle is their choice, and while it is interesting to a point, they do not garner my sympathy. Some would call what Kelly Dobson does enabling. I know I would. He is giving alcohol to alcoholics, and he is sending them a message loud and clear that being homeless is ok. It's not. It's deadly.

You want to be compassionate?

Go find some people that aren't completely responsible for their position. Women with breast cancer. Children born with AIDS. Victims of drunk drivers. Family's of people murdered on the streets of Minneapolis by criminals and drunks. There is no shortage of folks whom tragedy has visited through no fault of their own.

In 61-62 as a an 18 year old free spirit, I rode my thumb all over the eastern and southern US in search of nothing more than the joy of the experience. As a completely heterosexual man I had to learn early on how to deal with the homosexual men who commonly drove the highways at the time looking for young men (or boys,) most were not pushy, but occasionally one would make you get out when he found you wouldn't cooperate. This was a time before the curse of drugs which began the devastation of this country. I slept under bridges, in parked railcars, in cardboard shacks, behind piles of boxes in alleys, in parked cars (which were seldom locked) and on many occasions went to the local jails and spent nights, sometimes paying a small fee. We had no particular "look" or dress, and our only baggage was usually a small kit or gym bag with clean socks and underwear, a shaving razor, a bar of soap, and a toothbrush, maybe sometimes a couple of paperbacks. Myself and those like me became loosely known as "hep", a pop word which later became corrupted into "hip" by a rock star, hence "hippies", coming to be used to describe the overwhelming flood of mostly irresponsible adolescents who followed us, and were in reality anything BUT "hip", those whose image defined the late 60's through the early eighties. We who were veteran vagabonds looked at these kids and just shook our heads. They were more accurately (and rightfully)referred to as "heads", kids whose first concern was little more than where to find more pot, and later much harder and more mind damaging substances. They brought an end to the system that tolerated the peaceful anonymous adventurers who travelled as I did. In my time on the road I personally never drank although some did, and there were no drugs to speak of other than in very small and secretive enclaves that were avoided and frowned on by society (and the majority of us.) There were also no firearms, no "gangs" outside of ghetto neighborhoods, and no huge rukus of sophomoric ideologies. Jack Kennedy became president, and in tandem with the huge "baby boom" presided over a sadly misdirected youth revolution, and although most considered him lightly as little more than a handsome and wealthy jerk compared to the powerful Eisenhower, he became a hero and legend in death. This is to take nothing from the man, he was most definitely an icon and loved by millions. In the early days it was not uncommon to be given a lift by a policeman, or even a lone woman, and on one occasion as I was headed for Dallas Tx. on a very cold January day with night approaching I was picked up by a patrolman and taken to the highway patrol barracks at Cumberland Md and given a bunk for the night. We had a very high regard for the police, and considered them friends and protectors. Almost everyone at the time considered the police the watchmen of civilization and a strong and friendly presense. I cannot speak positive or negative for the black mans fear and dislike of police, I was not privvy to that. But the so called "hippies" and civil rights activists later demonized them for enforcing the law. That was, and is, one of the greatest injustices I've witnessed in my lifetime. A form of upside down logic. Many of the men I met on the road left a lifelong impression on me as some of the clearest thinkers, and the most civic and civil minded men I ever knew. Many were alcoholic, disappointed in their fellow man, many from broken marriages, some few blacks, and rarely an occasional woman, and contrary to popular image, of surprisingly young age. In bad weather a "flophouse" room cost fifty cents, and was almost always very sparse but clean. Not a popular place even among the down and out. Some of the bigger ones like Union Mission in Atlanta Ga. would sleep a hundred or more in one room. The doors were usually locked at 9:00pm, most of the lights were left on, there was absolutely no privacy in the bathroom, people coughed all night and you were not allowed to sleep with your shoes on, so you lifted up the bunk and set a leg of it down in each shoe! You also ran your belt through your wristwatch strap and cinched it to your belly. Come morning most of us looked for menial work (and usually found it.) I worked on a shrimp boat out of Mobile, painted houses on the Jersey shore, drove a bread route in Atlanta, pruned citrus trees at Vero Beach, washed cars in St Louis, cut pulpwood in North Carolina, installed outdoor lighting in Youngstown O, picked up trash at Niarara Falls, worked on a Chesapeake crabbing boat, cleaned irrigation ditches in western Nebraska, and more, much more, seldom spending more than several days or a few weeks in any particular location. It was not uncommon to meet a guy someplace that you had met previously months before and hundreds of miles away. My favorite was an older 6'4" black guy I met in South Carolina who called himself "Walkin Man George" whom I met again almost two years later in New Jersey, a more kind spirit I've seldom encountered, one of those people who just leave an indelible impression on your soul. but mostly you met an ever changing group of like minded sojourners. There were places where the more experienced of us could go and usually score a meal or even a little cash, such as the "travelers aid society", but not on a regular basis in the same town, they got to know your face rather quickly, and then there was always the old standby "bloodbank" which at the time paid around five dollars a pint. But the one thing that we did not do was steal or beg, we worked, and we found something to like about any job we did. We were not the railroad "hobo" of urban legend, although we did frequent many of the same venues. They were the more "colorful" sort of "gypsy" types, depending more on panhandling and scavenging for sustenence, interesting characters, but a whole different culture, and they tended to be a little older. And there were even then any number of semi permanent little clumps of tired or derelict folks who seemed to have more or less given up on life, especially in or near the bigger cities. You tended to encounter them regularly, but for the most part you kept yourself a little wary, they were peopled by the more seriously alcoholic and semi disabled and older folks who would become pretty unfriendly even among themselves at the drop of a wrong word. Serious conversation was a rarity there, many would just prefer to be left alone while they drank themselves into stupefaction. They were in a sense "our" ghettos! You NEVER asked for money or food there, it was just a place to spend a night or get away from the rush for a while. Although I once passed through the Minneapolis/St Paul area on my way to the "iron range" around Virginia (Minnesota) I didn't look for the "places", and more than likely they didn't even exist back then anyway. But These folks in your article are a culture unto themselves that I guess have always been a fixture in this country. And while their individual plights can often be heart tugging I think it's wonderful that we have a system that gives them that freedom, and still ultimately cares for them. I know from years of experience that it's a chosen way of life, that even with it's harshness and despair many of those souls would not be as satisfied if forced to live our "normal" high stress existence. And in fact many of them consider us the unlucky ones! We "must" give them any help they will accept, they are as human as anyone else, but we should understand also that they are, the same as the rest of us, free to go their own way.