Alone in the City's Darkest Hour: Bunks on the Hill
James Henry, an art and science student from Pomona, California, felt he was ready to take on the world at a young age. In an attempt to gain quick money, he began selling narcotics. After serving several years of incarceration for his drug dealing, Henry found himself using the drugs he once sold. He now travels with a Sac of clothing, a pen, and a half-bare notebook.
Between the 60's and 70's the area of Downtown Los Angeles began expanding its transportation and industrial uses. The area became a hub for entertainment, business, and those looking for opportunity. When the Great Depression hit, a heavy influx of displaced people found their way to the area, some looking for shelter within smaller hotels with sympathetic owners, others looking for job opportunity, and others addicted to substances that could easily be obtained in a metropolitan area. By World War II the area gave way to many soldiers, some suffering from PTSD and other complications, but all without a home to return to.
As the United States economy has grown and fallen, the amount of people living on the streets has fluctuated from time to time, but has consistently remained high. The Los Angeles Chamber of Commerce has estimated that there are more than 91,000 homeless living in the LA County.
Jackie Brown spoke of an unspoken stigma against engaging with homeless individuals on the streets. Many of their voices have gone unheard and they seem to share a sense of loneliness. When I met Jackie, all she carried with her were her few belongings and a story. She was eager to share her story. I watched walk across the dark, wet, asphalt street stepping in puddles of urine, debris and rainwater, until she found a vacant bench. She spread her belongings across the bench, creating a bed from her mattress pad, and waved to a nearby restaurant security guard for assurance and safekeeping. This was her first month on the streets but she showed no apparent signs of fear.
Jackie was a brave woman. Jackie played her jigsaw puzzle every night before bed, and then rested for the night in the most public setting she could find. "The people who walk by here only want to give to people in the worst shape. They see me, I act normal, I don't squirm, I don't do drugs, I mind my own business, but they give money to the drunk man or the one screaming and ripping off his clothes". Jackie 's discontent of the disparities in the treatment amongst homeless was mutually felt on her street. Her sentiments were echoed by three others on the street at the time. None of them had interacted with one another prior, they all minded their own. James Henry stood a street over and not once had he spoken to his new neighbor Jackie.
James held his head low, he rarely looked up to peek between the follicles of is rusty grey hair. His nail beds were filled with dirt and he seemed uneasy. He explained his challenges with drug abuse and what he had lost throughout his life in response to his decisions. James' favorite spot to sleep is in the high-rises, he said. "I've been using heroine for a while now, but my art is better. Now I use speed, it gives me a rush. It makes me feel sexual but I don't like myself very much- that is because of the drugs." "What did you do before you came here", I asked James. "I used to talk to ladies. I was smart and good at conversation, I had many girlfriends. Now I don't like talking to anyone much at all, I don't like them to see me. I think it's the drugs."
While James and Jackie lead separate lives, and have not yet met one another, they roam, rest, and bunk in the same neighborhood. Of the 91,000 plus homeless, every single one has a different story. As for Jackie and James, their current circumstances were not what they had imagined years ago, but they still held on to their true identities and their favorite belongings. They were alone in the darkest hours of Los Angeles, and by morning they would wake up hoping to make it to those late hours again.