Home is a Parking Lot

HOME IS A PARKING LOT
Andrew, no last name offered, was sitting by the window recently after finishing his meal at The Lord's Neighborhood Diner at St. Paul's Episcopal Church in Bremerton. Sun streaming in makes the deep creases in his face appear even deeper. A cap is pulled down tightly over his head.

"I have a home -- the parking lot down the street," he said. Two other men lived with him, he said, and it had been at that location for two days.

Like many homeless men, Andrew worked as a laborer, cutting trees in Eastern Washington. He's in Bremerton to complete some paperwork he hopes will lead to a monthly $515 Supplemental Security Income check, paid to individuals who are poor and disabled.

"I'm going to rent me a house. I'm going to buy me a TV. I'm going to live like a human being," he promised.

THE TRAVELER

Robert Barker prefers the word "traveler" to "homeless."

That he has done over the years, traveling 80,000 miles on his Harley-Davidson throughout his native East Coast, often with a white German shepherd behind him on the seat. "He was always saying, 'faster, faster,' " Barker remembered.

Homeless on and off for much of his adult life, Barker, 48, now lives in an '85 Chevy van in Bremerton with his newest dogs, a matched pair of highly trained white German shepherds.

Small and personable but wary, Barker hides a dollar bill and a pop can outside his van, then calls Princess and Bika out, ordering them to find the items. They do. He raises a fist; they sit. The dogs jump back into the van on command.

So as not to attract the police, Barker moves his van weekly, finding a sunny spot in parking lots or on side streets to stay a few degrees warmer. He eats regularly at church-sponsored meals, and gets money when he needs it through Labor Ready, a temporary employment agency that pays the same day. When he's flush, he gets gas for the van or visits a laundromat.

Barker shuns government assistance, saying he'd rather avoid paperwork that goes nowhere.

"Never had a dime from the government," he said. "I can go two weeks with 75 cents."

He had a chance to inherit the family business, a New Jersey greenhouse and produce venture. But he and his father clashed and Barker hit the road.

Like other homeless people, he visits local libraries to stay warm and to use the Internet. Up until recently, Barker had his own Web site.

When he's in his van and he gets too cold, he climbs into the sleeping bag in the back and goes to sleep.

Barker vows to maintain his lifestyle "until the right woman comes along." When asked where he'd like to be at age 65, he responded "wealthy," "retired" and "on a motorcycle with dogs."

WEST COAST WANDERER

Dawn Schmidt, a pleasant, heavy-set single mother with brown hair, describes herself and her family as West Coast nomads, staying at places just for a while, then moving on.

She and her three children, ages 6, 11 and 13, her disabled mother and a friend arrived in Bremerton six months ago. Like many new arrivals, they first tried the Alive and St. Vincent de Paul shelters for women and children, but found them full.

Her car, stuffed with all their possessions, was impounded shortly after they arrived, and Schmidt, 30, lacked the money to retrieve it. They soon found themselves living in a tent at Illahee State Park, with some local churches helping pay the $15 nightly fee.

"Delsie has helped up a lot," she said of Delsie Peebles, who runs The Lord's Neighborhood Diner, a large weekend feeding, and who helps many of the homeless.

Finally, she found housing at Parkwood Terrace in Bremerton, and the six of them are managing to get by on $642 monthly in welfare and the $565 her mother receives in disability.

"It did get really tough," Schmidt said of being homeless with kids. "Maybe it'll instill something in them."