News
Page 10
Street Roots • March 31 -
Randall McKee moved into his Multnomah County apartment in October. Central City Concern connected him to housing.
7 jum ped through the hoops’ to earn
BY JANE SALISBU RY
C O N T R IB U T IN G W R IT E R
andall McKee and I met to talk about
the vicissitudes of homelessness and
his new life after having been
homeless for decades. A tall man with a
deep voice, bright blue eyes and a full beard,
he was dressed in jeans, T-shirt and boots.
In his new, warm, neat-as-
a-pin apartment, he
offered me a comfortable
chair and a fresh cup of
coffee, both welcome on a
cold, windy day.
He told me that he had
A series o f stories about
spent most of his
people who have
homeless years right
there in Multnomah
experienced homelessness,
County, just a few miles
from Rockwood, where he
and fo u n d their way home
grew up.
“Alcohol played a major
Randall also lived at Dignity Village, where
role in my homelessness,”
he was the secretary of the council. The
Randall explained. “I
politics were difficult, in his opinion,
partied a lot. I worked 16
because he was required to be involved. So
years in the shipyards as
he went back to living on the streets, in
an onboard marine electrician, lived out in
communal camps or in a camper on a
Seaside for a while - I loved it there, and I’d friend’s property, for many years.
like to go back someday - worked on Coast
Camping, Randall learned the unwritten
Guard vessels.” In fact, he worked on
laws that develop naturally, away from the
whatever kind of ship was in port, solving
mainstream. One’s possessions are crucial
electrical problems.
to survival and a theft can threaten your
But eventually, unemployment and some
precarious balance. He learned to buy more
time in prison led Randall to a life lived
than he needed, and how to live with others
mostly outdoors, one period lasting for 15
in similar circumstances.
years. He stayed on one of the loading
“Homeless life is very difficult. If you’re
docks downtown near Blanchet House for a
not in a commune where there are others
while, and in various shelters. For a time,
who can protect your property, it’s very
R
RANDALL McKEE
After he lived most
o f his life outdoors, an
addiction treatment
program gave him a
fresh perspective that
led him to his new
apartment
hard. You learn to accommodate those who
don’t ask. For example, having had many
things missing or displaced, I’d buy four
propane canisters instead of two, per
month, so that someone would take two and
leave me some.”
Thinking about the severe weather we’ve
had this winter, I wondered how he could
survive in the cold.
“I’d be in my three-layer sleeping bag,
and I’d be just fine. Until it got burnt out -
someone came once and burned out my
campsite, which was far away from anyone
else.” After that, he said simply, “I walked
away. I’ve been to jail. It’s easier to walk
away.” He lived at Thousand Acres, the huge
semi-wild off-leash park in the Sandy River
delta near Troutdale, at one point, but there
were too many people there for him.
“Things have changed,” Randall said.
“When we were kids, we played out
anywhere. Now there are people living here
in those places, and it’s not so safe for
children.”
He went off by himself to camp under the
railroad bridge near Sandy Boulevard in
Wood Village. In the low space at one end of
the bridge, in a cave-like hollow, his home
was a nightmare of soot and diesel and the
bitter east wind. He stayed there for nine
months. The railroad bridge was a rough
place to live, but he was alone and preferred
it that way.
Even so, Randall had hope during those
years.
“It was always in the back of my mind to
See FINDING HOME, page 11