A Homeless Panic: The Homeless Experience in America

By James Howard Lough

A gripping and powerful story about survival on the streets. This is a true account, in descriptive and sometimes graphic detail, of what it was like to survive homelessness. It is the story of one person’s struggle to come to terms with what can only be described as a real-life disaster. More than just a good read, A Homeless Panic provid

• Language: English
• Publisher: URLink Print & Media, LLC
• Release date: Feb 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9781643671086

James Howard Lough

JAMES LOUGH was born into a military family and traveled around the world the first nine years of his life. When his father got out the service, they settled in Baltimore. He enrolled in trade school and began his career in the heating ventilation and air conditioning field. Throughout his life, he has been passionately involved in writing and in composing and performing music.

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Copyright © 2018 by James Howard Lough. All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any way by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the author except as provided by USA copyright law.

The opinions expressed by the author are not necessarily those of URLink Print and Media.

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Published in the United States of America

ISBN 978-1-64367-118-5 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-64367-108-6 (Digital)

Non-fiction

21.11.18

Contents

Disclaimer

Foreword

Acknowledgments

Introduction

1. The Beginning

2. The Shelter

3. Mean Streets

4. The Homeless and the Living

5. Home Stretch

6. Final Thoughts

Author Biography

Disclaimer

This book is a work of nonfiction. Unless otherwise noted, the author and the publisher make no guarantees as to the accuracy of the information contained in this book. In some cases, names of people and places have been altered to protect their privacy.

Foreword

This book seeks to open the eyes of the fortunate to the plight of the less fortunate. It is very personal but also presents a broader look at what it means to be homeless in the United States. As more than just one man’s painful experience with homelessness, it provides a gripping picture of individuals living on the street and of their daily struggle to survive, doing the best they can in a desperate situation. The result is an unvarnished look at the culture of homelessness.

The gap is broad between mainstream society and the indigent. Too often, programs designed to assist homeless people serve only to alienate them. With millions of adults, teens, and children on the streets, it’s time we get an idea of what people encounter when they hit the streets.

The author provides a powerful look at what it means today to be living on the street.

—Randall Shaw

Editor and business executive who has been homeless

Acknowledgments

I would like to offer my special thanks to Randall Shaw, who did a masterful job helping me tell this story and editing it.

I wound also like to thank all the people and organizations that are involved in helping the homeless and raising awareness about this important issue.

Also my thanks go to Primosphoto.com for all the photo art in the book.

Introduction

The true story that you are about to experience takes you inside the mind of one man as he painfully encounters a world unlike any he’s ever been in before. This book is about a person thrown into utter chaos when he suddenly was without a place to live. Before this turn of events, he was oblivious to the homeless crisis. But he was about to be in the fight of his life.

This story paints a vivid picture of how one person struggled to deal with the psychological pain that homelessness threw at him. Not all homeless people are able to deal with the stigma and negativity that society puts on them.

This story describes a world with an immeasurable amount of misery and discontent. The impact on the main character was so great that it changed his life forever.

So open your heart and mind to a realization that can empower you to appreciate the good things in your life.

1

The Beginning

My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, and I wasn’t focusing on the road.

Oh my God, what’s happening to me?

I had no idea what I was going to do. It was like I was having an out-of-body experience of the worst kind. I’d never felt that way before. I knew I’d better pull over before I ran off the road. I needed a cup of coffee badly, but I was running very low on cash. There was a coffee shop up ahead, so I drove into the parking lot and parked in the most remote part.

I couldn’t get out of the car. I’d never had an anxiety attack, but knew I was having one. My legs were shaking underneath the steering wheel. I reached across the console, grabbed my cell phone, and sat there looking at my list of contacts, then looking up at the rear-view mirror. I was actually trembling. I couldn’t believe it.

Oh God, oh God! What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do?!

I had to get out of the car. People were going to start looking and wondering what I was sitting there for. When you pull into a parking lot, you’re expected to get out of the car and take care of your business, whatever that is—not just sit there.

But I couldn’t. I just sat there, my head filling with horrible thoughts, scaring myself.

As I walked across the parking lot, a barrage of ill feelings attacked me, reminding me of my very vulnerable situation. Yeah, it was entirely my own fault. I had made no attempt previously to develop a safety net to cushion the blow in the event that I would ever be without a place to live.

I went into the coffee shop, ordered my drink, and left.

Back in my car, I turned the ignition key to see how much gas I had in the tank. Oh, damn, less than half a tank. I sat back in my seat, rolling my head on the headrest, back and forth, back and forth. Then, looking up at the light pole in the parking lot, I noticed the lights had just come on.

It suddenly dawned on me that nighttime would soon be there. And for the first time in my life, there wasn’t a home for me to go to. For someone who was fifty-three years old and had never worried about having a roof over his head—well, this was a dramatic change in circumstances, to say the least.

Where in the hell was I going to go? Everybody else was going home, but I couldn’t.

Is this the point in my life when I fall through the cracks?

I never imagined that nighttime could be such a serious foe.

Where am I going to go? Where am I going to go? was screaming over and over in my head. Everybody was going home, but I couldn’t. I didn’t have a home to go to.

Still sitting there in the parking lot, I let myself get angry, cursing at people as if it were their fault. Why doesn’t someone come and rescue me? Look at those bastards. Why won’t they come and save me? (Now I see why some people lash out at society and end up on the five-o’clock news.)

But this wasn’t me. I knew better. The finger pointed at me. I was just a victim of some bad decision making coupled with some rotten luck. And let’s not forget arrogance. I wondered how many opportunities had passed me by, just because I wanted to be a stubborn bastard. Arrogance, that’s a character trait I could have done without.

I finally started my car and slowly pulled out of the parking lot, deciding to go east on Route 9, heading toward Boston, not sure where I was going. But one thing was certain: I would be sleeping in my car that night, wherever I ended up.

Desperation is not a state anyone chooses to be in, but I was desperate—and that’s the truth.

I knew someone in the town of Natick—my friend Ed—and I thought he may be able to put me up for a while. Ed and I had known each other for ten years or so. He also knew about the death of my best friend, which was the reason I ended up on the streets. I had done some work for Ed through the years: odd jobs, painting, yard work, and things like that. Instead of calling him I decided just to knock on his door.

As I pulled into his driveway, I noticed the lights were on. I was relieved to see this sign that he was probably home. Walking up to the door, I felt embarrassed to be in my predicament. But I was gonna come right out and say I needed a place to stay for a night.

I knocked on