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