Voices of the homeless: An essay

1. It was an unseasonably warm January day and Elijah’s Promise Soup Kitchen in New Brunswick was inundated with volunteers. // The dining room was ringed with an array of social service providers. Everything from health care advocates to housing organizations, and from veterans groups to those aiding recently released felons were on hand to offer assistance not only to the soup kitchen’s regular clientele, but to the city’s homeless who were trickling in as part of the annual Point in Time count. // Harold and Philip – both asked that their last names not be used — took the survey and were eating lunch. Neither is from New Brunswick, but they now spend their time in the city looking for day jobs and trying to stay warm. // “All you can do is keep moving,” said Harold. “You’re going to be out in the weather all day and all night.” // Harold became homeless about two years ago, after he lost his job as a materials handler for Revlon. He had been earning $9 an hour “moving boxes” and was laid off during a corporate downsizing after about five years with the company. He was married at the time, but walked out on his wife and two kids. // “I felt like I was taking from her,” he said. “I was holding them back. The kids would see me not working, laying around all day, and their mom was out working and I just couldn’t stay.” // Philip had been staying with some family members until they threw him out because of his drug use. He had been an upholsterer with a company in the area, but was let go when the work slowed. // “The great recession did a number on me,” he said. “I do whatever I can wherever I can to make a dollar and wherever I lay down, that’s where I spend the night.”