The Homeless Neighbor
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Over the past few months I have spent time with and talked to many homeless men and women around Seattle. I have learned their stories, future goals and aspirations. If this project has taught me anything, it is that everyone has a story and you can not stereotype Homelessness. This film is part of a Multimedia project produced for Next Door Media and the CLP. It is an inside look at Ballard's Homeless Population.
Produced and Edited by Ryan McNamee Pictures by Elena Hansen Ryan McNamee |
Film Published on:
Multimedia Story Published on:
Awards:
2010 Department of Communication Excellence in Communication Award
- Pioneer Newspaper Journalism Award - 2010
- Pioneer Newspaper Journalism Award - 2010
Reviews:
Doug Alder, Next Door Media's Network Editor - "Incredibly well done and very poignant."
Behind the Scenes - Pictures and Blog post
(Click image to enlarge)
People
Delon aka De
De has been homeless his entire life. Recently his van was towed and auctioned off at Lincoln Towing in North Seattle and he is now forced to sleep under the 15th Street Bridge in Ballard with his dog Pepper, and his wife. For a man who knows nothing other then this hard life, he is very positive and in his words, "a survivor". Over the past few months De has shown me around Ballard, introduced me to his friends, told me about his life and protected me from the dangers of being around it. Although De is a little camera shy, I was able to take a few pictures of him. If it was not for this man, I would not have been able to obtain the footage I have or the stories that helped create the first film and articles.
Rich
Rich became homeless not to long ago and like De, he lives around the 15th Street Bridge. Last time I talked to him he told me stories of his past. Rich toured with well known bands around the world, helping them with set-ups, meetings, publicity etc. With the down turn in the economy and a few personal problems, he found himself on the streets. When we talked last February, he was planning on traveling to Haiti or Africa to help in humanitarian efforts. Like many other homeless men and women, he believes that just because he has nothing does not mean others should be neglected.
James Wlos
James is a homeless man who lives in Queen Ann. He currently works with the King County Coalition on Homeless to bring awareness to this issue. Like De, he recently had his van towed and sold at public auction because he was unable to pay the $135 + storage fees to get his van and all of his belonging out of impound. I have been talking with him about creating a short doc about the parking and impound issues.
Other People:
Traveling around Seattle working on this project, I have met a lot of people and each one has their own story. The pictures below are of some of the people I have met, or seen helping Seattle's Homeless Population.
Vans
It took me almost 2 months to be able to take pictures of inside a van. I have found that the homeless population likes their privacy, and like many of us, do not let just anyone into their home. I must state that not every van is as bad as the one below and some homeless people live in shelters, transitional homes or on the streets. As Jennifer Adams told me, "regardless of its condition, a van is a whole lot better then sleeping in a shelter or on the cold concrete." The van you see below is the home to three large men and is smaller than a Volkswagen Bus. After some negotiation between De and one of the owners, I was able to take these pictures as long as I did not give the location or show the owners in any of the shots. The smell of the van was not as bad as others I had seen inside but smelt like smoke, stale beer, rotten food, and urine. The last two pictures are of a different van and truck I saw during this project.
Other
These eight pictures are some of the ones I took and thought should be posted. The number 44 bus is the main way to get from Ballard to the Sunday lunch in the University District. When De and I took it, I had met about ten of his friends who all have no shelter. When we passed the House for Rent; 8 bedrooms, one of them made a comment about how if the city opened a few of the abandoned, foreclosed or for rent homes up to the homeless population, they would be off of the streets and out of sight.
Under the 15th street bridge there are two signs, one says No Parking 2-5am and the other has a list of 8 rules. Three of which I found interesting; No lying down or sleeping, No feeding the birds, and No leaving personal items unattended. As you can see the last one is not upheld but many of the homeless are written tickets for sleeping under the bridge, something I do not understand. I also do not understand the No Parking between 2-5am. After a little investigation, I found these signs all over Ballard; in gravel lots by the train tracks, other parking lots, industrial streets, etc. What happens in these places that is so important that people (the homeless) can not park there?
Under the 15th street bridge there are two signs, one says No Parking 2-5am and the other has a list of 8 rules. Three of which I found interesting; No lying down or sleeping, No feeding the birds, and No leaving personal items unattended. As you can see the last one is not upheld but many of the homeless are written tickets for sleeping under the bridge, something I do not understand. I also do not understand the No Parking between 2-5am. After a little investigation, I found these signs all over Ballard; in gravel lots by the train tracks, other parking lots, industrial streets, etc. What happens in these places that is so important that people (the homeless) can not park there?
Behind the Scenes blog post for The Homeless Neighbor
"Just Another Day"
- by Ryan McNamee
Lying on the cold concrete under the 15th street Bridge to get the perfect shot, I heard a familiar voice, “Could you do that all night?” As I looked up, I saw De, a 280 pound homeless man approaching. “It would be hard,” I replied with a chuckle.
Over the course of the past month, De and I had spent some time together under that bridge. He had introduced me to his friends and told me about his life. However, today we were not just going to sit there, he was going to show me around Ballard and the University District. Around 11:30am we made our way to the Dominican Fathers church for the Sunday lunch. “It’s the best lunch in town,” Mark, a homeless man told me while waiting in line. And he was right.
Since I was not allowed to film during lunch, De and I made our way outside after we had eaten to set up my video equipment and conduct a few interviews. During one, I managed to step in a puddle, filling my shoe with mud. Catching his breath from laughter De said, “That shit happens when you’re homeless.” An onlooker added, “Yeah, you can always tell us homeless people apart just by looking at the color of our shoe laces… never white.” Forcing a smile, I just shook my head and laughed along with them. I could not express how pissed I really was. No one else could run home and change shoes and De was right, this shit does happen.
After a few interviews, we made our way back to the bridge. On our way a man, De later told me was crazy and homeless, began to approach us, eyeing my camera equipment. Stepping in front of me, De began to forcefully walk towards him. Although the man quickly changed directions, seeing De protect me like that was indescribable. I don’t know if I could have done that for someone I hardly knew.
Back at the bridge, De and I met up with his friend Rich. Although you couldn’t tell, Rich had recently become homeless. Holding a can of steel reserve, he began to tell us long stories about his past and his hopes of a better future. Rich wants to travel overseas and help out in humanitarian efforts in Haiti or Africa.
Deciding we should tour around Ballard before it got too late, De and I set out down Leary Way. “That’s where I think my friend passed away,” he said softly pointing to an empty ally way, “and over there is where that fire was.” Asking if he was okay, De replied, “yeah it’s a hard life, but I am a survivor.”
A few blocks later, we came up to a dark blue van I had passed many times. De turned and said, “You want a tour right? Wait here; they are crack addicts, a little jumpy.” After a few minutes I was beckoned over. Although no pictures were allowed, seeing a van where two people laid in trash as high as the window line and smelt like a dirty litter box was more than I could handle.
“They have lived there for as long as I can remember,” De said as we walked away, “I couldn’t live like that.”
After a few more failed attempts to get in vans and trailers for a tour, De managed to talk one of his friends into letting us in. The van was filled with blankets, trash and belongings, but for three dollars a day, it was in a safe place. The van was smaller than a Volkswagen bus and was the home to three large men. It smelt like rotten food, cigarettes, and sweat
After taking a few pictures, we headed back towards the bridge De now sleeps under. Saying our good byes and thanking him for the day, I left De with a full stomach from lunch, mud filled shoes, a few hundred pictures and memories to last a life time. This was an experience that has made me realize how lucky I am and one I will never forget. But for De, it was just another day.
Over the course of the past month, De and I had spent some time together under that bridge. He had introduced me to his friends and told me about his life. However, today we were not just going to sit there, he was going to show me around Ballard and the University District. Around 11:30am we made our way to the Dominican Fathers church for the Sunday lunch. “It’s the best lunch in town,” Mark, a homeless man told me while waiting in line. And he was right.
Since I was not allowed to film during lunch, De and I made our way outside after we had eaten to set up my video equipment and conduct a few interviews. During one, I managed to step in a puddle, filling my shoe with mud. Catching his breath from laughter De said, “That shit happens when you’re homeless.” An onlooker added, “Yeah, you can always tell us homeless people apart just by looking at the color of our shoe laces… never white.” Forcing a smile, I just shook my head and laughed along with them. I could not express how pissed I really was. No one else could run home and change shoes and De was right, this shit does happen.
After a few interviews, we made our way back to the bridge. On our way a man, De later told me was crazy and homeless, began to approach us, eyeing my camera equipment. Stepping in front of me, De began to forcefully walk towards him. Although the man quickly changed directions, seeing De protect me like that was indescribable. I don’t know if I could have done that for someone I hardly knew.
Back at the bridge, De and I met up with his friend Rich. Although you couldn’t tell, Rich had recently become homeless. Holding a can of steel reserve, he began to tell us long stories about his past and his hopes of a better future. Rich wants to travel overseas and help out in humanitarian efforts in Haiti or Africa.
Deciding we should tour around Ballard before it got too late, De and I set out down Leary Way. “That’s where I think my friend passed away,” he said softly pointing to an empty ally way, “and over there is where that fire was.” Asking if he was okay, De replied, “yeah it’s a hard life, but I am a survivor.”
A few blocks later, we came up to a dark blue van I had passed many times. De turned and said, “You want a tour right? Wait here; they are crack addicts, a little jumpy.” After a few minutes I was beckoned over. Although no pictures were allowed, seeing a van where two people laid in trash as high as the window line and smelt like a dirty litter box was more than I could handle.
“They have lived there for as long as I can remember,” De said as we walked away, “I couldn’t live like that.”
After a few more failed attempts to get in vans and trailers for a tour, De managed to talk one of his friends into letting us in. The van was filled with blankets, trash and belongings, but for three dollars a day, it was in a safe place. The van was smaller than a Volkswagen bus and was the home to three large men. It smelt like rotten food, cigarettes, and sweat
After taking a few pictures, we headed back towards the bridge De now sleeps under. Saying our good byes and thanking him for the day, I left De with a full stomach from lunch, mud filled shoes, a few hundred pictures and memories to last a life time. This was an experience that has made me realize how lucky I am and one I will never forget. But for De, it was just another day.
