It's out of the shelter and back on the Hard Streets

A few homeless people find escape from their mean lives

By MICHAEL R. SHEA
mshea@modbee.com

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TURLOCK -- With blond frazzled hair and a worn red flannel shirt, a homeless woman frantically bunched 60-gallon trash bags from the cold weather homeless shelter's supply closet into a dirty, plastic Wal-Mart bag.

Her eyes shot across at Dawn Saxbury, who works at the city's shelter. The woman expected a reprimand.

"It's going to rain on my stuff out there," the homeless woman said.

"It's OK, hon,'" Saxbury said, telling her to take the bags. "It's OK."

The woman was one of 65 people to step outside the city's only shelter and into the unknown Tuesday morning.

For a series of stories published in January, The Bee chronicled the lives of several homeless people when they moved into the shelter in November. When the shelter closed Tuesday, some had their own homes, but others returned to the streets.

Terry and Linda Cool have moved into a Modesto home, part of a housing program for low-income people with disabilities. Steve Harris, who lived in a shanty off First Street, has been taken in by family in Arizona. Mick Matthews and his girlfriend, Donna Lofton, who used the pseudonym Marlene in January, and their friend Blue Bike Mike Roark are back on the street.

More than 260 people used the shelter since November, said Maris Sturtevant, who sits on the shelter's board of directors. Of those, 32 found housing, 29 found employment, four bought an automobile, three entered a drug and alcohol program, and one was placed in the care of county mental health services.

The city opened the cold weather shelter in January 2003 to protect the homeless from the worst months of the year. It opened early this season, on Nov. 20, and was set to close on April 1 before the City Council extended it 30 days.

In the B Street shelter — an old warehouse built off a railroad spur with 65 wooden beds lined up 18 inches apart — Saxbury, who's worked there six months, shouted the wake-up call at 6:45. Some of the homeless already were outside smoking; many got out of bed and staggered to the large urn of coffee, cigarettes dangling from lips.

"The lights are on, but nobody's home," Mick Matthews said, reaching for that first, necessary cup of coffee.

Struck down by a stroke in April 2005 and without insurance, Mick spent his $200,000 savings on medical bill after medical bill. Lying half-paralyzed in a hospital bed, the truck driver of 30 years lost his big rig when he missed a monthly $3,500 payment. His apartment went next.

In January, after a year on the street, Mick's request for Social Security disability insurance was denied. A few weeks later, he had his second embolic stroke and spent a week in Emanuel Medical Center. He was given a prescription for medicine he couldn't afford.

"His motor skills still aren't right, and see how he stutters more," Donna said.

"Hey, it's still me, babe," Mick said in his rich Australian drawl. "I'm still breathing. You know?"

City officials planned to knock down the B Street shelter and build a year-round facility, but downtown religious and business leaders mobilized against the shelter early last year. Plans for a long-term homeless solution have been stalled while the Center for Public Policy at California State University, Stanislaus, gauges community opinion on homelessness in a locally funded $70,000 report expected in August.

Out of the van and home again

Terry and Linda Cool moved into the shelter with Mick on opening day in November, but weren't there to see it close Tuesday. After two years living in shelters and their Ford Windstar van, parking in the United Samaritans and Salvation Army parking lots, the Cools were placed in a Modesto home in early April.