When I started writing about homelessness for the Los Angeles Times editorial board, a service provider shared a piece of wisdom with me: “If you meet one homeless person, you’ve met one homeless person.” Those words have guided me ever since. While I dug into policies and housing debates, I also made it a point to listen to the personal stories of individuals I came across in the city and my own neighborhood.
There was a well-groomed man living in an RV outside my condo, accompanied by his fluffy white dog. I encouraged my worried neighbors not to have his vehicle towed, but to help him find services instead. One neighbor, a lawyer, even offered free legal advice. After some time, the man drove away and I haven’t seen him since.
Then there was Michelle, whom I met one evening just before the Fourth of July in 2019. She was sitting on a sidewalk outside a wine store on Cotner Avenue, fresh out of the hospital, with her ID bracelet still on. Michelle, in her 50s, no longer had a phone because her ex-fiancé had destroyed it. When I called the 211 hotline to find her a shelter, all they could offer was a bed far away in Antelope Valley. Defeated, Michelle said she wanted to return to the hospital. Unexpectedly, the wine store owner and a staffer came out, not to complain, but to help. I booked an Uber to take her back to the hospital. As the vehicle arrived, the store owner discreetly handed the driver some cash, with a plea to look after her. Michelle later left a voicemail at my office, expressing her gratitude and letting me know she was safe. We lost touch soon after.
Fast forward, the Los Angeles Homeless Services Authority has since introduced a system that tracks shelter vacancies across the county, which went live for service providers this month and will incorporate into the 211 hotline by July.
I met another man, James, outside a Whole Foods in Santa Monica. In his mid-50s, he had been a retail worker until unemployment dried up, leading to his homelessness. All James wanted was a room to rent. As flashy cars zoomed past, he remarked that surely someone had a spare room. Eventually, a service provider found him a room in a shared apartment near USC. I dropped by once with groceries. As we sat, we overheard an argument from another resident — eliciting from James a resigned, “People here are crazy.” This wasn’t his ideal home. I lost contact with him after that.
Another story is of Joshua, a man I have stayed connected with over the years. I first encountered him as the foreperson of a jury convicting him on a misdemeanor charge related to a train incident in 2019. Our conversations post-trial uncovered the challenges in his life. As he moved through the justice system and tried getting an education, life didn’t get easier. A trade school course in computers was beyond his preparedness, and he couldn’t make up the gap in knowledge. Today, he relies on General Relief and CalFresh benefits to survive, often sleeping on buses and trains, thanks to compassionate drivers.
Despite my encouragement, Joshua refuses shelters, citing safety concerns. “I know you want better for me, Miss Hall,” he once said, sensing my frustration. “It won’t always be like this.”
I wish for all of them — the ones I’ve met and those I haven’t — a better life. Isn’t that a wish we all share? Housing should be a fundamental right, not reserved for the heroic or unfaltering. While some may have inconvenienced others in their desperation, such instances highlight our societal duty to provide everyone the dignity of meeting their basic needs.
Living without a home often spirals from poverty, sometimes compounded by mental health or addiction challenges. Meanwhile, housing has become a commodity, unobtainable to many in Los Angeles given its swelling value and scarcity. With 75,000 unhoused individuals in the county — 45,000 within the city — it’s clear we need permanent solutions.
I once spoke at a private school with Emily Martiniuk, who shared her own path from homelessness. As she engaged the students in thinking about their futures, she asked the sobering question: “How many of you want to be homeless?” Her own journey was shaped by health and personal crises, yet with support, she found stable housing and now advocates widely on the issue.
I’ve consistently championed for increased resources for homeless services and housing solutions. It’s bewildering when people oppose such housing in their communities, even if they supported the funding measures initially. Anti-camping ordinances are not a fix; they merely relocate the problem.
The term “homeless housing” is misleading. As soon as someone steps into it, they’re no longer homeless. While it doesn’t mean an end to all struggles, having a safe place to rest each night is crucial. Reflect on a hardship you’ve faced — imagine tackling it without a place to return to.
As I conclude my tenure with this editorial board deeply committed to people’s well-being, I urge you to support housing initiatives. Welcome new affordable housing designs in your area because you see firsthand the lives such housing could transform, even save. Pressure city leaders not to shut out these efforts but to promote them in all neighborhoods.
For Los Angeles to truly thrive, we must ensure everyone has a place to call home.
