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Meeting new people is one of the best parts of being out on the road. With no agenda other than photography, eating, and sleeping, it's easy and fun. Since I'm a big guy who can handle myself in most situations, I don't hesitate to meet a lot of different people. Even the ones most people try to avoid.
The furthest north I got on my most recent road trip was the small town of Yreka, California. There isn't much going on there. The acute labor shortage made finding a hotel room difficult. I ended up in the only "newish" hotel on the edge of town, a Holiday Inn. It would have been better to be downtown, near the funky old-west buildings. In this case, shelter was paramount, with a freeze warning in effect for that night.
As a seasoned traveler, I usually choose a room on the backside of a hotel, away from the road or, in this case, the freeway. Yea, well, lesson learned. On the backside of this hotel was a truck stop - a noisy all-night truck stop.
Another thing about truck stops, aside from the noise, is they are by far the cheapest place to buy gas these days. I'm not one to pass up an opportunity to fill up at a decent price. So I made good use of the opportunity the morning before leaving town.
After filling up and while pulling out of the truck stop, I notice a young woman sitting on the street's curb. She was applying sunscreen to her face, trying to take care of herself. She seemed unhoused ( a polite way of saying "homeless.") and could probably use some help. I circled around and pulled in next to her. Getting out of my truck, I asked if she needed some help. She asked, "What kind of help?" And I replied, "Like money." "Yes," was her immediate response as she rubbed in the last of the sunscreen.
What came next stunned me. As I handed her some money, she said, "What I could use most is a mailbox."
Wait, What? A mailbox?
She told me that if she had a way to get her mail, she could get her support checks and other benefits to get back on her feet.
You could have blown me over with a feather. She wasn't thinking about food, shelter, booze, or drugs. She wanted a mailbox, so she could get back on her feet. And remember, it most likely froze the night before. I can't imagine she slept in a shelter because we were on the edge of town, near a Holiday Inn and a truck stop.
I meet a lot of unhoused people when I travel. They stay in campgrounds, live in their cars, and ask for money at shopping centers. I take an attitude of not judging and feeling compassion for those people. It comes down to one thing. Nobody would choose to stand on a street corner and ask for handouts. It's humiliating, even for a drug addict. As for what they do with the money, I don't care as long as they get what they need to survive.
That young woman stayed on my mind. What did she need to survive? It's much, much harder for women on the street than it is for a man. I wish there were something more I could have done for her. At the very least, she knows someone cares enough to stop to say "hi" and offer some help. It's a little bit, not enough, I'm afraid.
Still, a mailbox. That's all she wanted - a mailbox.
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