Edith & Dewayne
After working the overnight shift at a local restaurant, Edith makes her way to the Harry Tompson Center to take a shower and follow up on her housing application status. The day I interview her, she is in pain, trying to find a comfortable sitting position that won’t hurt her broken ribs. Her feet are tired from standing throughout the long, eleven-hour shift, and as we talk, she clasps the patron saint charms strung onto her necklace, which she’s collected from the Sisters who pray with her at our Center. A kind woman, Edith’s blue eyes are arresting. In her slight southern accent, she tells me that her charms are her warpaint, something to reinforce her faith and keep her strong in the face of incomprehensible adversity.
When most people are waking up, Edith is coming off the night shift with many hours to go before she rests.
Born a ward of the state in Covington, Louisiana, thirty-six-year-old Edith has had a difficult life from the start. By the time she aged out of foster care at nineteen, she was left to fend for herself with no family to call her own. Edith worked odd jobs, trying her best to make ends meet, but minimum wage positions left her with little money to build a life. She longed for security and a family to call her own. When she met a man who took interest in her, Edith believed that love could be her ticket to the life she’d always wanted. She soon found herself pregnant, but the relationship wouldn’t last long. Money problems and drug use led the couple to separate. Eventually, her ex-partner was granted custody of their daughter, Destiny. Now, fifteen years later, Destiny lives with her father in the Midwest, and Edith is homeless in New Orleans.
Edith’s journey through houselessness began a couple of years ago. Like many of our guests, living on the streets didn’t happen all at once. In fact, she and her current partner, Dewayne, had an apartment of their own in early 2020. Dewayne had used his tax return to secure an place and get the lights turned on. They both had jobs and things were starting to look up when the first wave of the pandemic hit. Suddenly, people were being told to practice social distancing and shelter in place. Dewayne couldn’t rely on coworkers to pick him up, and after a few missed shifts, he was let go. Edith was lucky enough to keep her position but the little money they could pull together did not cover their rent, and they soon found themselves evicted with no one to turn to.
Edith’s warpaint: a collection of patron saint charms acquired from the Sisters who visit our Center.
“I don’t remember much about what we did with our things. Left most of it, I think. We took what we could: cushions, blankets, food, our cat - and we went to live in an abandoned building. There was black mold and used needles everywhere, and even though it was March it got so hot. We were there for a little while. Long enough to find out we could apply for unemployment. The cat didn’t make it.” Dewayne gazes past me, his mind working over the memory of those days as he gently thumbs the blue dragon tattoo on his bicep. “Anyway, we had to get out of there.” he continues.
Dewayne and Edith were able to scrape together enough on unemployment and through Edith’s job to purchase nightly rooms at motels on the outskirts of the city for a few months. By the time August came around, the extra $600 on each unemployment check afforded by the CARES Act ended, and once again, the couple could not afford to make ends meet. Dewayne looked for work, but nothing stuck more than a few weeks. They started living outside more than inside and by mid-December, the couple was on the streets for good.
Because Edith works in food service, she was usually able to eat for a small ration of her paycheck and sometimes she could bring food back for Dewayne.
Edith and Dewayne pose together after visiting the HTC’s sunrise shower service.
“Most of the time it was Spaghettios, Spaghettios, Spaghettios. Lots of canned goods. And nothing hot. Some days we didn’t eat at all.” reflected Dewayne when asked about the scarce winter months.
“The worst thing about being homeless is … well, all of it. But if you’re sleeping in a tent, everything will mildew and mold. We couldn’t keep our mattress because it wouldn’t have fit in the tent and it would’ve gotten moldy. I always watch for people throwing out their couches. I try to get the cushions. Sleeping on the ground is hard.” Edith and Dewayne exchange a knowing look.
I ask them how long they were out on the streets before finding our Center. Dewayne tells me it wasn’t long, that he’d heard of the Rebuild Center (a partnership between 4 agencies including ours assisting with issues related to homelessness) before, but it wasn’t until a bus driver recommended it to him that he came to check us out.
“Tears come to my eyes when I think about this place. It really is a place that makes you feel physically and mentally better. Ms. Eva (Assistant Director for HTC) was my entry point. I walked up for a snack, and I found out everything about the Rebuild, and it’s just wonderful here. It’s everything you would need, everything you can’t get out on the streets. I feel like I’m individually supported here and that’s massive. That’s really big. To feel like that when I’m not individually supported otherwise. You guys call my name and everything happens.”
I can hear the sincerity and gratitude in Dewayne’s voice when he says this. By everything happens here, he is referring to the myriad of services offered at the Rebuild Center through us and our partner agencies. At present, our Senior Case Manager, Kip, is working with Dewayne and Edith to navigate the housing process. They are on track to be placed into stable housing within the next few months.
Still, the couple has a long road ahead. Former opioid addicts, the two rely on the local methadone clinic to help each other stay sober. They admit that they’ve had slip ups, but they are working hard to stay on the right path. Dewayne stays up at night reading the Bible while Edith goes to work, her dream of seeing her daughter again propelling her forward.
HTC Case Manager, Kip Barard, helps navigate Dewayne and Edith through the housing process
“My daughter knows I’m doing everything I can to see her when she turns 18 and be there for her high school graduation. I have hope that this time I’m going to make it.” she says.
I ask Dewayne and Edith if there’s anything they’d like our readers to know. They ask for compassion and to refrain from passing judgement.
“So many people hate us for being in this position. It hurts. I wish that was different. I wish people could see that we would never want this to happen to ourselves or anyone else. I wish they would talk to us, to hear what we’ve been through. Thank you for letting us share.” says Edith.
As our interview wraps up, I feel myself wishing we had more time, wanting to know so many more things about their lives and how they ended up here. I want to know more about their love story (they met over a slice of pizza), their favorite movies, their hopes and dreams. And even in this thought, I see the flaw in my logic. Right now, the only thing Dewayne and Edith have is each other and this moment. None of that other stuff really matters. They are living their story, one day at a time. And one thing is for certain, it takes a lot of courage to keep going, and they’re going to make it.
