Cold Reality With The Help Of A Propane Heater, Demonstration Raises Awareness And Funds For The Homeless People In The Area

The first passer-by who drove through the Ferris parking lot on Nov. 20 cruised by us with a queer expression on his face. Then, abruptly, he backed up and stopped beside our tents. The car window rolled down and a thin head poked out with a derisive smile. I prepared myself to accept a donation.

“You guys are really sleeping outside tonight?” an incredulous voice asked from inside the car. I could feel the heat spilling out the window, and I huddled closer. The guy probably thought I wanted to kiss him.

“Yep,” I said, my voice muffled beneath layers of clothing.

“Ha! You guys are nuts!” he laughed, and the car careened out of the parking lot and into the growing traffic.

I imagined myself pulling my two pairs of gloves off and launching some demeaning hand gestures after the guy, but decided against it and plopped back down into my chair. I felt an ominous doom close upon me. I figured, momentarily, that our efforts to represent the homeless and raise donations were somewhat of a waste.

I wonder how many of you readers actually saw us out there. Six ASB officers and their adviser, magnanimous individuals braving the cold and refusing to sleep, curled in thin sleeping bags (well, OK, I had three thin sleeping bags), away from their families, away from the often overlooked joys of home.

OK, so it wasn’t that bad. We cheated a little. We did have tents, and on the second night we even used a propane heater. Of course, the heater and I weren’t the best of friends, considering it set a pair of my gloves on fire.

I was also surrounded with the fellow ASB officers, all good buddies, and protected by the courageous Jim Missle (our adviser). Sure, we also had close friends deliver us hot chocolate and cookies, and we ate pizza for dinner. We also had some fun playing Balderdash, Scattergories, football and Frisbee.

So no, we did not represent the homeless with utmost validity.

But yes, it sucked. In fact, if I had stayed out one more night, I think I would have seen a lesser realm of hell. The fun, at first greatly apparent, ebbed off rather rapidly by the second night.

You would never believe the cold the homeless are forced to put up with. I did not dress warm enough the first night and, believe me, I was wearing about five layers of clothing.

My feet felt as if they were hung in the icy kingdom of a meat locker for about eight hours, and my face, stinging from wind-burn, felt lashed by a million sharp, invisible whips.

And if I laughed suddenly, a glob of juice sometimes peeked from my nose to wave hi.

Along with the cold comes several other unpleasantries which make life miserable. Sitting in school the following morning, without a shower, a brush to pull through the brambles of my hair, or even a little bit of deodorant for the old armpits, was an unpleasant experience.

Having the opportunity to remain sparkling and radiant is something I often take for granted.

Sleeping was impossible for me. Of course, I am a light sleeper, but every car that sped past caused my eyes to jump open, and I would stop breathing for a moment and just listen to the quiet darkness.

Sometimes, cars came through the parking lot, lights flashing, horns honking, drunken idiots screaming out the windows, and I would think, “I am going to get shot. Or raped. Or beat up.” Or somebody will attempt to rob us of our blankets and food and clothing.

Brooks Lasalle, our ASB treasurer, pulled his pickup around in front of the tent in case any rebellious fool decided to open fire. Maybe it’s kind of childish to assume such a scary vision, especially when wrapped in the sanctity of the South Hill, but nevertheless, I sometimes felt a tremor of fear.

I wonder how much that fear would escalate if I were sleeping on the shivery pavement of a downtown roadway, cars racing by me constantly, ruffians jabbing me with insults, drug dealers stepping by me to converse with their consumers.

So no, we did not represent the homeless to perfection. And if that stopped you from bringing by blankets, clothes or canned food, I’m sorry - not for our actions, but for yours.

All in all, we brought in about 500 cans of food, 60 blankets and three refrigerator boxes loaded with toys and clothes. To all those who helped out, we ASB officers (Dave Schruth, Lisa Heyamoto, Lea Ruhl, Brooks Lasalle, Nathan Hainsworth and I) thank you dearly. It was great to see so many great types of people drop by.

Some of the “bad” teenagers from Ferris brought the most goods, disproving the stereotype that they don’t care. I’m proud of all the donations we received, and to see members of the community come together to help those in need.

But when I sat in that parking lot, shivering and counting the number of cars passing down Regal Street, I couldn’t help feeling there should have been more.