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About Street roots. (Portland, OR) 1998-current | View Entire Issue (Feb. 17, 2017)
News Page 10 Street Roots • James Srp slept in his 1993 Buick LeSabre after he lost his apartment and, his job. After surgery and in-patient physical therapy - and 16 months without a permanent residence — Northwest Pilot Project helped him get into housing. BY ROBIN SCHAUFFLER CONTRIBUTING WRITER ust six years ago, James Srp was in his early 60s, relatively healthy, employed, and renting a house in Beaverton, where I lived for 15 years. He’s well-educated, an avid reader and comfortable around computers. His mobile, friendly face easily cracks into a smile. Sociable and articulate, he speaks in looping sentences with pauses to consider his words. He He lived in his car describes a long career in health care and for almost a year, but computer work. thanks to an invaluable “I think of myself as a person who works,” he support system, the says. “You know, takes care of himself.” former Beaverton In short, not the guy you’d expect to find resident now has an living in his car on the apartment in Portland streets of Beaverton. I JAMES SRP A series o f stories about people who have experienced homelessness, a n d fo u n d their way home “My story,” he says, “is part of a larger story.” When the 2008 recession hit, Srp saw a lot of people laid off, but he kept his job. Then one day in 2011, he collapsed at work. rp (pronounced Serp) meets me at the The doctors discovered he needed a door of the building where he now lives in downtown Portland, walking with a four- pacemaker. Returning home after the procedure, he found a foreclosure notice on point cane, in jeans and a heavy winter coat his front door. It was a shock, but he felt with a wool cap over his head, a little of his sorry for his landlady. graying hair peeking o u t “She was caught up in the recession, like “Between the weather and the so many people,” he says. pneumonia, and the fact I don’t know Looking back, he sees that sign on the Portland y e t... that covers why I haven’t had door as the first of “a series of cascading a haircut,” he says. It’s cold outside, but the small community events.” Next, Srp was laid off. In effect, he room where we talk is warm enough. S became retired, though not by choice. (“I don’t like being retired. It’s boring.”) And he developed intense arthritis pain in his hip. In November 2013, he took Social Security, but he kept looking for work. He recalls one interview: “I had the qualifications. Actually, I was kind of excited. I got there; it was this really neat old building. I literally could not walk. Propped myself up on the car, got to the wall, crept along the wall, and found that the office was on the second floor, and ... no elevator.” Although “the people were great,” they couldn’t hire him; he couldn’t use the stairs. (Oregon’s disabilities law exempts employers with fewer than six employees.) “So, two and a half years in pain, and I was losing the ability to basically take care of myself,” he says. A friend gave him a cane to use, and doctors told him he would need a hip replacement. The owner’s foreclosure finally went through, and Srp had to move. Nothing was affordable. He briefly rented a dilapidated 'double-wide mobile home, then moved into a motel, but knew he couldn’t afford it long term, even with help from friends. He had nowhere to go. He couldn’t picture being on the street. “I don’t have the right background,” he says. “I’m not a person who can say, ‘Hey, I’ve got a tent, I know how to build a fire, I can camp o u t’ I don’t have those skills.” ’ But Srp owned a car: a 1993 Buick LeSabre. “You can sleep in a car like that,” he says. See FINDING HOME, page 11
