by D.O. Foreman

Created on: May 30, 2007

Last night I was able to jimmy the cheap padlock on the back entrance to an abandoned gas station. My sixteen year old son and I were able to sleep under a roof last night. Hopefully the rain will stop soon and summer will finally take hold. This morning I am writing this on a public library computer.
Just a few months ago we were still 'normal' people. Then I fell ill. I worked for a small company that paid a descent wage, but couldn't afford to offer health care benefits. The cheapest health care I found on my own came with a thousand dollar deductible. I was a regular blue collar guy. A thousand dollars?

We coasted on savings for a while, but the continual rise of the cost of living and medical bills in the thousands of dollars, our middle-class life quickly disappeared. Public assistance is not set up to help people who truly need it. It is formatted to break people down and weed out any situation it can to save the government money.
I finally wound up at the 'free' clinic, run by the county. They want twenty dollars every appointment. That's not cheap when you have no income and are homeless. Public assistance won't accept the fact that I can't work because the nurse practitioner (not doctor) at the clinic doesn't have the experience or knowledge to figure out what is wrong with me. Because of a non diagnosis, I am required to job search to get benefits. On a good day, I can stay on my feet maybe two hours.
I've lost my job, my home, my vehicle, all of my possessions, my dignity and self respect. I am getting sicker by the day. My son is living on the streets with me. Now I have a social worker telling me that she thinks I'm trying to get over on the program. If I qualify, my son and I get $400.00 a month. That's right, everyone. I gave up my life and put my son's future in jeopardy just so I can collect a measly $400.
The biggest disappointment? Nobody cares. I mean nobody. America is ignoring a tragedy in it's own backyard while sending tens of millions of dollars in aid overseas. If this can happen to me, it can happen to anyone.
On a small town street in America right now, a sixteen year old boy has no choice but to watch his father slowly slip away. And the father? He thinks about all the taxes he has paid over the years, all the social security funds he has paid into out of all his paychecks and wonders where he and his son will sleep tonight.

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