Homeless in Washington DC

Not long ago, Washington DC was considered a medium-sized city, free from many of the problems that plaque larger cities. Yet, that is not the case today. Like many other cities across the United States, Washington faces the challenge of a significant homeless population.

Recently, as Angie and I walked back to the hotel, we saw men bedding down for the evening outside the McPherson Square Metro Station, just one thousand feet from the White House. I was reminded of being in DC at a conference in the mid-1980s, when the homeless crisis in the city exploded. Walking around at night, I was with a group of fellow classmates from college. Donna was extremely excited about a shoe store we have come across and ran up to a window to survey shoes that were way beyond the means of our group collectively. Her squeals of glee turned to a scream of fright when she tripped over a previously unseen homeless man sleeping in the doorway for warmth. She ran down the street in horror at the encounter. I am not sure that the poor man even moved. The incident left an indelible mark on my memory. Donna was shaken by the experience, but I often think about the man whose sleep was interrupted. What of him?  Growing up in Louisville I was familiar with the occurrence and situation of homeless people. That was not the case for many of my college peers. We were but college kids, carefree, who had experienced an uncomfortable interaction. On the other hand, here was a man in desperate need of rest. In my imagination, I am fairly certain that the future of the man did not end well.

A confused man followed Angie and me for a few blocks near Federal Triangle. He intimated that President Trump had been snorting cocaine during the election (“he was always sniffing during speeches”). He rambled on, without much coherency about attending Liberty College and that he was a military general secretly working for the federal government for free. Later, he was upset that he could not get a job. There was a flash of a temptation to ask about the contradiction of having a secret job and being unable to secure employment, but I knew better than to ask that question or any others. His diatribe was interspersed with assurances that he was not going to harm us. At one point Angie assured him that we trusted him.

In one of his more evocative and bizarre claims, he related a story of how he advised “him,” it was unclear who this person of authority might be, that the government should plan to evacuate Montana and “take all the people” to Nova Scotia or, seemingly correcting himself after a pause of a few seconds, Vancouver. His paranoia was such that he was concerned about a group of people a continent away and moving them to another country. A confused plan for confused times.