The Longest Days & The Haze of Survival

The Experience: Part II

 

The Kids Are Alright

In the days since our displacement and being relegated to living in a motor-home since January, the one astonishing element that has been the highlight between the stress and strain of maintaining and dwelling within the RV, hunting for parking spaces at night and keeping it properly fueled for generator/hot water use coupled with attempting to get ourselves elevation via employment and public assistance, is our children's resulting adaptation to this transition..

They have been having the time of their lives.

In California, before you can register your children for school, you have to have a physical address in which to enroll them, which is kinda hard to do if your 'address' is on wheels that has to move periodically to avoid problems with law enforcement, residential-dwelling metro-sexual whiners who complain of your unsightly rig in their pristine and manicured neighborhoods, and avoiding other RV'ers who are known registered sex offenders parking near you (more on that one later). Making adjustments and readjustments as part of our learning curve for survival in this situation had become a full-time job in itself for my wife and I. The children have been the benefactors in one major way:

This has been one elongated camping trip, replete with day-trips to the beach to hunt  rock-dwelling  hermit crabs as temporary pets, ride bikes , make sand castles, explore local aquatic life , play with lizards and do the things they were never allowed in West Hollywood: just be kids. Because of delays, bureaucratic hiccups and a need to be more efficient with our situation, the children were allowed to roam a little farther and longer than they ever had, and have benefited also in one important aspect that neither public nor home-schooling could teach: the art of creativity and exploration of the world around them. It was also building character.

After settling in San Diego to regroup and re-plan our next course of action, my son said to me one day in February  'Dad, I notice when things get stressful with you and mom, you tend to get calm. I am going to start doing that' 

It was a comment out of nowhere..but made me stop and think. I had struggled with getting our generator working in the start of this chaos, but did so..knowing nothing of how it operates. I had to change the flare pipe on the propane tank so we could actually cook food utilizing the RV propane-driven stove. I also had to learn on the fly how the waste and water tanks on the vehicle can be regulated to determine when its time to fill or empty, and my wife and I had to learn where the dump sites were located. We also had to break the trend of augmenting our living arrangements by shopping for Hotels when these issues were being handled. It is a full-time operation to live in this manner: it is nothing romantic nor to be embellished upon. It is a one-day-at-a-time type of stasis, and is by no means mundane, especially for a family.
 
There are times I have been so aggravated at the limitations it presents that I grow quiet..and just deal with it as it comes. Things like weather, safe areas to park and dealing directly with life on the street are enhanced in as far as their impact on us daily. I have learned to just be calm, even in the face of being hassled by the police over complaints of our mere presence in a particular neighborhood, dealing with dodgy and nefarious people who want to get into your business either due from their insanity, loneliness, or both. My son has seen his Dad protect our 'home' from the elements , mechanical issues, and confronting (or dodging) people who are not 'all there.'
 
My son said further during this conversation

"I am going to be fearless, but cautious like you. It seems to be the best way when it gets stressful'' 

Conversely, my youngest Daughter made an observation around this time with regards to some ongoing disconnect between of ourselves and other family members whom have not been entirely understanding and morally supportive:

"Dad, it seems like nobody in the family is really acting like family. Nobody will help us except us."

"What do you mean, sweetie?" I asked.


"Well, I noticed you and Mom try to explain things to*(our older adult sister), but all she does is yell at us, or  try to tell us what to do, or tell you what you're doing wrong." 

This was honest disclosure and evaluation on her part, un-coached and non-partisan, as she had watched her mother and I receive some very harsh words from their eldest sister upon our arrival to San Diego permanently in January. It was unexpected, as this person had been our biggest unconditional advocate until the reality of the complexity of our current stasis literally visited her front door.

 It was too much for her to witness, and the eldest elected to pontificate her 'disapproval', rather than see the exact nature: she began the practice of 'telling', not 'asking': purporting her superior 'wisdom' of a situation she herself did not endure, being single with a steady government job with no one else to account for other than herself..


 "How do you feel about that?" I asked

"It hurts. We are on our own." She replied in matter-of-factly; with a hint of anger registering in her 10-year-old  tone. 

The anger being that purely of defense over her parents. When all this began, my children assumed roles driven by their innate characters: my son assisting with leading the 'exploration' and to help maintain the peace within or four-wheeled home, helping Dad with loading and unloading various things such as groceries to placement of clean clothes in assigned bags kept in limited interior closet space at the rear of the RV, and acting as co-pilot, being my eyes when I have to lane-change or exit off the roads, while my Daughter assume the role of assistant to the 'executive' in running day-to-day cooking, cleaning and organizing the space alongside her mother.


She also assume the role of the family defender, making us aware of any unsavory person or activity while out on the road that could pose a threat or problem. Even if the 'problem' was members in the family.

As her father, I had made it regular practice to allow our children to express themselves at will; allowing for honest perspective and expression of feelings irrespective of how it might possibly wound my wife and I's somewhat-fragile self image of ourselves, being homeless and jobless. My children's emotional well-being is first and foremost, beyond whatever inferiority, debasing self-imagery that was in my psyche, imposed or self-imposed, real or imagined. 

I'm grown; they're not. I still have set strong examples and facilitate healthy development  for them, whether we reside in a mansion, an apartment or an RV.

I'm still 'Dad', and 'Dad'  must come through. That never stops..and shouldn't


"Is that O.K. with you..that we just do this on our own, sweetie?" I asked, wanting truth, not comfort in her response


She paused, looked upward toward the car ceiling for a moment, as we were taking a break  in the parking lot from doing some much-needed linen cleaning  at the local laundromat, The Beast parked nearby;  a look of deep assessment came over her face ..


"Yeah, we need to take care of ourselves..Hey Dad, does that make her selfish?"


Now I paused; a response with an unanticipated question..the defender wanted answers.  The defender was making correlation between the ill treatment we've received and a 'character flaw' that might be associated with it.

My response had to be measured. It was not in me to attempt turning one child against another due to some unforeseeable events and behavior. I was still reeling from  our most recent falling out (late February), and some of the cruel diatribes that came from my daughters eldest sister. I had raised this eldest Daughter like my own unconditionally, and watching my wife, her Mother, be severely hurt by the her sudden lack of of discernible compassion was jarring. We were helping ourselves as best we could, and 'judgement' was being 'passed' at our expense, the reasons unknown to us at that time. I had absolutely disowned her for it..


The defender had bore witness to all of it


I responded: "Unfortunately..Yes. But do  you understand what I mean by that?"


Without  pause or prompting, she stated with great resonance and clarity, " Because she could help us, but doesn't want to. She doesn't ask us anything or check to see if we're O.K. She just gets angry and tells us what to do...

Yeah..that's selfish. Very selfish. I would never do that if my family needed help"

My wife and I have to be doing something right.

In  saying this, things get dicey out on the streets living in a 25 ft caravan...


Outliers in The Shadows of The Unknown

I woke up one morning and found our car's trunk had been broken into, my family's dirty laundry which was being temporarily stored in the trunk was scattered throughout the sidewalk, and we were fortunate nothing was taken. During this same time (March) I actually had two job interviews in one week..and  little money to get gas to attend both, but manage to pull it off...

Things like a simple shower, internet connection and charging up our only cellphone all become milestones of challenges when  your self-relying on an RV generator that takes it fuel directly from the main gas tank to operate the engine of the vehicle for your water  and internal electricity, and a separate propane tank which delivers hot-water and fuel for cooking: conservation of resources takes on a new meaning. 

Also, what you don't know sometimes, can absolutely shock you when you're ignorant of what is really in your environment.

In late January, I was stopped by the San Diego Police Department as my right break light was out while we were en route to another motel for a few days. After giving him the prerequisite ID and registration, the officer then asked my un-showered and sleepless personage to step out of the vehicle, and it wasn't to issue me a ticket or further check my registration..
 
"Excuse me for asking, Mr. Shoen, but are you and your family living out of this vehicle?" asked Officer  'Jay', a polite, young man who looked fresh from the academy.
 
"Yes" I answered, knowing at moment my instincts were confirmed: I wasn't going to be cited for anything. His approach suggested something above just a routine stop for him. he was going outside normal protocol. 

Jay then began, "I stopped you today, Mr. Shoen because I have been monitoring your RV for the last week. I did note you have your children with you and you've been staying along this street. I wanted to advise you that where you have been parking overnight,  is two blocks from a parole office, and there is no school within a 2,000  yard radius..."

He then paused slightly; as if finding the proper means to get his point as concise and direct without being startling,


"Where you're at has the highest rate of registered sex offenders in the County. There has been a recent crackdown on folks living in RV's either because  they're parolees violating the terms of their parole or tweekers getting high and dealing Crystal Meth. "

I just wanted to let you know its not safe to be here."

With that , he passed me some contact information where we could get assistance with food, gas and other subsidized services offered for homeless families. As he sped off and genuinely wished me good will, I was only not gobsmacked at what I had learned about what we had been surrounded by in the spot we chose as a consistent parking spot, but also came to the realization I had met, for the first time, a cop who was actually performing the job in the way that all officers are suppose to be:  public safety and security alongside straightforward law enforcement. Hence why they are called 'peace officers'. What Jay demonstrated was tactical public safety: observing a situation that was  outside his normal scope and protocol, performed surveillance as to ascertain what the exact nature of the situation is, and then act upon in context without needlessly causing further harm through over-zealous assumption and action.


That is proper law enforcement.


My wife and I being so grateful, took this information to heart and never returned to that seemingly quiet street. It did answer a curious question as to why their were so many RV's concentrated in one area, however. Sounds asinine, but when one is new to these circumstances, you don't to consider such dynamics at length: such outliers are not something we have been exposed to, so it was never focused upon nor considered.

It is impossible to get an 'answer' that is helpful, when you don't know enough to ask the right 'question.'


This dynamic revisited us, literally, during a routine shopping trip two weeks later in a Ralph's parking lot. My children had , several days before, buried one of their many arthropods they had collected in one of the planted islands in the parking lot and had place a marker so as to visit their deceased friend when ever we happened to stop there. On this visit they did just that while my wife and I began loading up the RV cabinets and fridge , having to go near a Winnebago parked nearby the grave. 

What seemed like two minutes, my wife and I were suddenly visited by a mid-sized man wearing all black, with a badge dangling from his neck on a silver chain standing at our open side door leading into the living area of the coach

"Hi-sorry to bother you. I'm Parole Officer Jameson. Uh.. Are you guys planning on staying here tonight ?"

"Uh no..just doing shopping", my wife quickly answered, startled by his sudden appearance

"Are you guys planning on leaving soon?" He asked, speaking in a lowered monotone approach, like a man trying to have a private conversation in a reverberating locker room, as to avoid opportunistic eavesdropping.


"What's going on, Officer?" I quickly asked

I was getting irritated: As part of our daily routine, timing had become essential. Living in an RV with children means coordination and movement have to be swift, as things like traffic, parking, and organizing your vehicle for continued habitability all have be done with planning, focus and deliberation: we still had to travel to the local RV dump sight, fill the water tank with fresh water, dump waste-water, get the kids fed and showered, and then finally obtain  safe parking for the eve, and this seemingly vague yet intrusive manner of this Officer was getting to me, as he was not being clear as to why he was inquiring of our intent in the first place.


"The reason I'm asking is I noticed that your kids were near that RV over there", The area where he pointed to was the near the 'grave sight' the kids had created the week before. I explained to to him this, to which the look on his face went from stark concern to relief. 

Jameson then continued "..I just want to you know that the guy in that Winnebago  over there is a convicted child molester.."

This the moment I knew that this all had to come to a close..and soon. We could not carry on this way, languishing and focused just on efficiency of survival anymore... it was time to take some major steps in elevation. The streets will not continue to provide these 'messages' of forewarning: moving up and beyond mere survival had to be enacted. Now

Within days of this encounter,  my wife had located a school specifically geared toward homeless children in San Diego and enrolled them, as to help continue their education on some semblance of normalcy; the homeschool dynamic needing elimination , so  my wife and I could start getting some form of plan enacted to get off this cycle...away from these dark outliers that could cause severe harm without warning if we stay out here too long..

And this also would begin with a phone call I would make to a VA assistance program that could aid in providing financial assistance with deposit for a place.. and a follow-up job interview I had to nail..

 

(Stay Tuned)