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or second place I inquired at. Before I knew it, my meager savings had been depleted and I was still unemployed and beginning to panic.

I spent two frightening nights on the streets before a man saw me one day sitting despondently on a curb. He asked if I was homeless. I replied that I was and he told me to follow him just two short blocks away to a special shelter. I was checked in after showing proper identification. The rules were harsh. Curfew was 9:00 PM-no exceptions unless I was at work. Everyone was to be up and out of bed at 7:00 AM, off the property by 8:00 AM (to look for work) and not allowed to return until 4:30 PM. I had no car and no money so this was difficult for me. Within a week I found a job; but transportation restrictions and an injury sustained when I twisted my ankle in a pot hole at the shelter forced me to give it up. I began helping in the kitchen at the shelter.

About 30 men and women lived there. We were assigned a locker that couldn't be locked. We slept in bunks donated from a jail facility; very uncomfortable. The "mods" as our sleeping quarters were called, were not air tight or heated. Winter was swift and freezing. Everyone was constantly sick, recovering from illness, or suffering from lice infestation. We were fed twice a day, which was nice. But the man who found me was also "Head of security" which meant he ran the shelter under the Pastor of the church on the property.We had to attend church twice on Sunday and once on Wednesday evening; unless working or we were thrown out. One bathroom served 15 female residents and a few street people. Same for the men.

One day while I was alone in the kitchen preparing for the evening meal; *Jack came to check on my progress. And to assault me. I was shocked. I didn't know what to do. The atmosphere at the shelter was that of a jail and this man was the guard. He had the power to determine who stayed and who went. Period. I had seen him in action and it wasn't pretty. I tried to fend him off in a good-natured manner. It worked but I felt disgusted with myself and with the Pastor for putting such a deviant in charge of vulnerable people with no place Else to go. My mental state began to deteriorate. Soon after, other women began to step forward with accusations. He was reprimanded; but still continued to enjoy his privileged position at the top.

Shortly after the holidays, my daughter's boyfriend invited my daughter and me to come live with him and his room mates. It saved me. A week after moving in, a position opened up at his work so he offered it to me. I accepted. God knows what might have happened had I been resigned to staying at this shelter. Some of the residents had been there for as long as 10 years. Institutionalized by the rigorous routine and restrictions of the shelter, they had simply given up. And the number of vulnerable, frightened women taken advantage of beofre and since my stay there cannot be known. One thing is for sure; in these uncertain days in which we live, any one of us can find himself in the worst of circumstances; in the blink of an eye.

Learn more about this author, Stephanie Costello.
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