Homeless Camp Puts A Light in My Eyes

Driving up the hill, I wondered what awaited me- soon I would know. Taking in my surroundings I noted older homes with light reflecting through the curtains, open blinds showed visible scenes of television shows, people leaving their homes with scarves draped around their neck quickly jumping in to their cars to escape the cold, and the further north I drove down the road the larger the homes became. The area was beautiful and serene. Looking to my left I passed the home of my friend’s brother. I reminisced of how things had changed through the years from the time I first drove these streets as a teenager. From the hilltop I looked across the visible rows of homes and clearly eyed beautiful Lake Washington in the forefront. Night was approaching all too soon. Moments later I reached the required street, and turned right proceeding forward. Then my eyes captured a sight that made me gasp, one I knew would remain an image captured in my memory-bank for all time. There in the midst of these rows of expansive homes were rows of tents lined up on the grounds of a church. Turning in to the lot, I parked my vehicle and glanced towards my daughter, as we both sat in silence momentarily unsure of what was coming next.

Upon exiting my vehicle, we were greeted quickly by a couple of members from a tent located at the front of the camp. We learned they were part of the security team on duty at the time. This responsibility was rotated, with residents taking shifts averaging a couple of hours to ensure the premises remained safe for all. Introducing ourselves we expressed interest in taking a tour of the camp and learned that visitors interested in touring the facility were always welcome. While waiting for our tour guide whom we learned was named Roger, I felt another pair of eyes peering at us. Looking around, I spotted an adorable young boy approximately 2 years of age, with beautiful, round, almond shaped eyes staring at me. Giving him a friendly wave, he gave me one back and continued to stare at us appearing curious as to what we were doing there. Within seconds his mother grabbed his hand, greeted us, and redirected him out of the way. I watched as they turned to walk back towards some tents. The youngster glanced back over his shoulder one last time as they walked away. I suddenly realized as I thought about visiting the tent-city, I hadn’t thought about seeing children there.

“Welcome,” we were greeted by Roger for the start of our camp tour “Do you want the long version or the mini version?” he inquired. Unsure of what the long version meant, I explained we would take the mini-version today. We were led to the front of the church, as he began talking about the tent city. We pulled our coats a little more tightly as the cool temperatures easily reminded us we were still outside.” How do you recognize a homeless person?” he began as he pushed his silver, gray shoulder length hair back and waited. I explained that I felt it was sometimes hard to tell. Homelessness doesn’t have a certain look. Sometimes it hides behind a three- piece suit.

Our experience that day was eye opening. Never again would I walk forward thinking I understood someone’s situation based on appearance. Several individuals at the camp were employed, but was it enough to maintain a permanent roof over their head? No, they were constantly fighting to survive day to day, grasping for traction that would assist them in obtaining the same things as others.

Leaving, I felt a mixture of emotion. Thankful for all that I had, and sadness for those that had no choice but to remain at the camp. A walk through a dark camp that day, definitely turned the light on in my eyes.