Mobile homeless' hidden plight
April 20, 2006
Gregor McGavin
The Riverside (CA) Press-Enterprise
The rest area off westbound Interstate 10 near Whitewater is busier than a NASCAR pit crew most mornings.
Cars and trucks come and go constantly, motorists stopping for bathroom breaks or to walk the dog before hitting the road again.
But on a cold, windy morning last week, one car wasn't going anywhere.
The fogged-up windows! and clothes and toiletries inside the blue, 1999 Chevy Caval! ier were clues that Ricky Holley was not just passing through. Still, he straightened up in his reclined driver's seat whenever a stranger passed.
"It's embarrassing," said Holley, who waits tables at the Morongo Casino in Cabazon and has been living in his car for more than two months. "I'd rather be able to go home to a real home. But I don't really have anything besides the car and my clothes."
Homeless advocates say the 19-year-old Yucaipa native is among a growing number of people nationwide for whom home is wherever they park.
The Inland area has about 15,000 homeless, according to the most recent surveys done by both counties. One-third stay in shelters or other temporary housing -- the rest live under bridges, in empty lots or elsewhere on the streets.
The "mobile homeless" make up a largely unseen subsection of the homeless population.
They pull over at rest stops, in shopping plazas and on quiet city streets to sleep. No one knows ju! st how numerous they are, because they keep such a low profil! e.
Social service providers say that's partly out of embarrassment and partly because they move regularly to avoid run-ins with the law and owners of businesses or homes.
But homeless advocates and providers say they are seeing more families and individuals who are living in their vehicles.
Record Housing Costs
Record-high housing costs and low-paying jobs are the prime causes, experts say.
"These are people who I think have fallen across bad luck -- a job loss, an eviction, a health crisis," said Brad Paul, executive director of the National Policy and Advocacy Council on Homelessness. "They're not in shelters, so it's a harder number to get a handle on. But there's a really serious spike in homelessness, including those living in cars."
Often children of the mobile homeless go to school and the adults go to work, said Don Smith, homeless services coordinator for Riverside County.
"They lead a normal li! fe except at night they wind up sleeping in their vehicle," he said.
Most communities nationwide limit the length of time motorists may park on public streets or at parks, and some cities have outlawed living in vehicles, including motor homes.
The city of Riverside banned living in any vehicle on city streets in 2003, after receiving a small number of complaints from residents about people camped out in front of their homes.
Violators can be charged with a misdemeanor punishable by up to six months in jail and a $1,000 fine. But City Attorney Greg Priamos said it is far more likely they would be issued an administrative citation, which can include a fine of $100 to $500.
Only a handful of people have been cited over the past several years, he said.
"It doesn't come up much," Priamos said. "But it can have a real negative impact on a residential neighborhood."
San Bernardino is expected to adopt a similar law this year, s! aid Glenn Baude, director of that city's code-enforcement div! ision. O rdinances already prohibit parking on city streets for more than 72 hours or at city parks after dusk.
A Shift in Strategy
In light of local laws, the mobile homeless have to get creative.
They shower at truck stops or health clubs -- if they can afford a cheap membership -- or take bird-baths in bathrooms at parks or fast-food restaurants.
They scout out-of-the-way places to park and some use car covers to disguise the fact they're sleeping in their vehicles. Others, like Holley, keep their windows cracked to prevent their body heat from creating condensation, a well-known giveaway.
"But I'm afraid to keep it down -- there's a lot of weird people at rest stops," said Holley, a thin fellow with buzzed blond hair and a cotton blanket over his shirtless frame.
Holley, who works 11 p.m. to 7 a.m., said he grabs what rest he can there or at other spots in the area.
"Sometimes I'll go on the side of a housing complex or something and just crash. Sometimes I just drive around," he said.
Holley said his downward slide began when a! fight with his wife at their Beaumont home led to his arrest! for dis turbing the peace in March 2005. For months, he stayed with friends, but that welcome wore out.
He visits his mother's house in Yucaipa to shower and do laundry. But his mom, who also waits tables at the casino, pays $800 a month for a small one-bedroom house and there's not enough room or money to go around.
Holley said he's trying to save for an apartment. But there's little left of the $600 or so a week he makes after court and lawyer fees and a $225 car payment.
The Working Poor
Because they have transportation, the mobile homeless are more likely to be working than most people on the streets, social service officials say. But the income isn't enough to keep a roof over their heads.
"These people are the working poor," said Naomi Norman, who heads San Bernardino County's task force on homelessness. "They lost their house or apartment but still managed to keep their car and their job."
Record-high hous! ing prices and rents mean that minimum-wage paychecks don't go far enough.
New-home prices are rising at an annual rate of 28 percent in San Bernardino County and 10 percent in Riverside County. Average apartment rents are expected to increase 5 percent this year, to just over $1,000 per month.
With as many as 3 million people homeless nationwide and shelters and other temporary housing in short supply, social service officials say they have their work cut out for them trying to help.
Little if anything is being done to address the problem of mobile homelessness.
A program in Eugene, Ore., where officials set aside parking spaces on city lots and hired a social worker to check on people sleeping in their cars, is the only one of its kind nationwide, said Michael Stoops, director of the National Coalition for the Homeless in Washington, D.C.
Ron Stewart, interim head of Riverside County's homeless programs, questioned the wisdom of! allowing car encampments.
"It just isn't an appropr! iate liv ing space, for hygiene," he said.
Hurricane Refugees
On another recent morning at the Whitewater rest stop, Holley was again grabbing some sleep after work. So far, he said, most of his co-workers don't know he lives in his car.
Across busy I-10, Guy Rock and his family had spent the night at the rest area on the eastbound side in their ancient, sagging motor home.
Since Hurricane Katrina tore apart their hometown of Waveland, Miss., last year, the vehicle has been home for the Rock family -- Guy, his wife and sons, ages 4 and 2, and their purebred coonhound.
The motor home's shocks are shot and the paint long ago faded beyond recognition.
"It's falling apart right now, but it's still home," said Rock, a 51-year-old plumber who has been unable to work since undergoing double-bypass surgery shortly before Katrina struck.
"One morning we had a home and a boat and two trucks and everything, and the ! next morning we had nothing," said Rock, a bear of a man with a defeated air.
Rock said he has spent the past month and a half looking for a place to live. They came west because he had worked in the region before.
In Ventura, a landlord was asking $2,000 a month for a studio, he said.
In Oxnard, security kicked them out of a department store parking lot. In Huntington Beach, police told them to move along after they parked on a city street.
Rock said he is trying to save as much as he can of the $812 disability check he gets each month.
On this morning, he was heading out to an Arizona border town, where he'd heard about a campground that charges $1 a night.
"It's a place to stay and wait until the next check comes in," he said.
Homeless on wheels
Two-thirds of the Inland area's 15,000 homeless people live under bridges, in empty lots, in vehicles or elsewhere on the streets, according to recent surveys. The rest spend at least some time in shelters or other temporary housing.
Living in vehicles: Experts can't say how many because they keep a low profile.
The law: Some cities have banned living in vehicles on city streets. Most prohibit street parking for more than 72 hours.
Penalties: In Riverside, fines can range from $100 to $500. Those convicted of the misdemeanor violation could face up to six months in jail and a $1,000 fine.
Reach Gregor McGavin at (909) 806-3060 or gmcgavin@PE.com