Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Hard, Scary, Sad

I have been so ill for the past 48+ hours with violent migraines that today it was well after 4 pm before I could even stand up. The stress is literally killing me. It was 70 degree;s today, yet I couldn't stop shaking and shivering.

The paperwork for the sale of the land hasn't surfaced, my phone is due to be turned off for none payments tonight and until I sell the land everything is going backwards at the speed of light.

I'm not too sure what to do anymore. Confusion is literally engulfing me and my health cannot withstand more stress. I have become invisible on so many levels I don't even know how to cope anymore.

Being homeless trying to come up with the funds to get a home is one thing. You have goals and direction ~ you know what you are doing, even if the circumstances should never have been allowed. No man steals a woman's home and get's away with it, surely?
But being homeless unemployed and deathly ill is so different.

I have begged this family for such a long time ~ and I have been totally ignored in conditions most humane people wouldn't leave an animal in. I am starting to wonder if I was totally insane for expecting to appeal to any level of humanity, or honor-ability,

And while I am being emotionally, physically and financially destroyed the people responsible have all the comforts in the world and don't give a damned about anyone but themselves.

'Hard, scary, sad': life at a highway rest stop

Unaffordable rents, says a new national report, keep many Americans homeless. Some who are living in their cars at a rest stop off a major highway attest to the challenges.

Lisa lived in her car at a rest stop beside a highway near Seattle from May through early December of last year. With her was her 15-year-old son, a newbie among the more than 21,000 Washington state students who were homeless at that time. The boy and his mother would move into a motel room for two weeks to get clean and well-slept and recover some optimism, then return to the rest stop for two weeks to save money for gas and other necessities. “If I talk about it I get emotional,” she said. “My apologies if I start to cry. It was hard. It was scary. It was sad.”

Lisa had lost a job she loved, as manager of a 7-11 store in nearby Sea-Tac, when she was disabled by multiple sclerosis. After her landlord died and his heirs sold the home that she and her son had rented with housemates, she “fell short,” she said. She had no savings to cover what it would take to rent a new place: the background screening fees landlords demand, plus first-and-last months’ rent if her application was accepted, plus any deposit for cleaning or security. These requirements add up to a daunting total for poor people, even when they have jobs and the rent won’t gobble up well over half their income.

But too often the rent does exactly that in America, even to full-time workers, says a report published March 14 by the National Low Income Housing Coalition (NLIHC). The report, Out of Reach 2012: America’s Forgotten Housing Crisis, compares rental rates and working-wage levels across the country and finds that market pay for low- and median-level wage-earners simply can't cover market rents.

To pay for a modest, affordable two-bedroom apartment at fair market rental rates in an American city — “affordable” defined as costing no more than 30 percent of one’s income — a worker must earn what NLIHC calls a Housing Wage of $18.25 per hour. But wage-earners in urban areas average only $14.15 per hour. Outside metropolitan areas, where affordable rental units require an hourly Housing Wage of $12.21, wages average only $9.97.

When the recession sent homeownership rates down across the U.S., the resulting demand for rental housing pushed rents higher, according to Out of Reach 2012. And the supply of low-cost rental units shrank, with landlords either remodeling them into higher-priced units or letting properties decay. The most serious shortages of affordable, decent rental units confront the poorest of the working poor — those earning 30 percent or less of area median income. For every 100 workers in this category seeking to rent a home, only 30 units that they can afford are available, says the report.

Washington is the 16th most expensive state in the nation in terms of the Housing Wage required to pay for an affordable two-bedroom apartment, says the NLIHC report. A renter working here at the minimum wage of $9.04 per hour would have to put in 80 hours, 52 weeks a year (see chart at top right), and a renter earning the average Washington state wage of $14.62 would have to work 50 hours per week all year.

In short, says the report, even Washingtonians working full time at the state’s average wage can’t afford a very modest two-bedroom family apartment.

Lisa and her son found the rest stop where they lived for half of last year while driving along I-5 on one of their searches for low-cost housing. They turned off the highway to let the family dogs run around awhile, and Lisa saw a few people who seemed to be living in their vehicles. “It looked like a safe place to be,” she said. “With my ‘handicapped’ sticker I could park the car right across from the rest rooms and the kitchen area where there was coffee.”

When their laptop and cell phone needed charging, Lisa would take her son to McDonald’s, she said. For his sake “I tried to keep life as normal as possible.” He’d go to school as usual, and then afterward meet up with friends at a community center gym where they could shoot baskets together. When Lisa picked him up toward dinnertime, “he’d pretend to his friends he was going home,” she said. Her husband, from whom Lisa had been divorced many years, stayed connected with his son as best he could despite working as a long-haul truck driver all over the country, calling nearly every day.

“The longer my son and I lived at the rest area,” said Lisa, “instead of being scared and hiding I started to watch, and I’d see the same people. The woman who brought the old man food every day. The Oldsmobile with a cracked windshield that two gentlemen lived in. The woman in the bluish-gray station wagon — she would take things in and out of her vehicle, constantly rearranging, like keeping house. It’s like at home when you’re bored, you clean out a closet, you take things out and put things in. I caught myself doing it where I was parked.”

On a cold, sunny March morning after hearing Lisa’s story, I drove with boxes of miniature doughnuts and a big Thermos pump pot full of hot coffee to a rest area near Seattle, wondering whether people were living in their vehicles there. If so, would they talk to me? Were they caught in what some pundits like to call a reset? The word conveniently finesses personal and civic responsibility, as if homelessness, for instance, were the morally neutral product of a gigantic machine's automatic functioning instead of the brutal result of policy decisions made by human beings, which human beings can change.

Juggling coffee, cream, sugar, cups, and doughnuts I approached the window of a dented blue Ford sedan with its warped hood roped to its front bumper. Behind the steering wheel sat an elderly man reading a Bible printed in some kind of Asian calligraphy. A clean folded towel covered the dashboard, a blanket draped the man’s knees, and the back seat was neatly stacked with boxes. Cranking the window down, he accepted a doughnut and a cup of coffee stirred with several spoonfuls of sugar plus an inch or so of half-and-half. He nodded when I asked him if he was living in his car. When I asked what chapter he was reading, he replied, “Matthew,” with a polite smile, then turned away from further questions.

In a parking slot closer to the rest room area, the rumpled, gray-haired owner of a dusty van crammed with belongings said he’d been living there for a year. Rick had loaded and driven trucks most of his life, until a degenerative spinal disc disease ended those work options. Now he awaited a decision on his formal application for SSI. His hopes for relief were high, so I didn’t say that even people who receive the maximum $698 monthly from Social Security for disabilities can’t find rental housing at what would be an affordable $209 per month (based on the guideline of spending 30 percent of income on housing). Perhaps he planned on sharing a house like Lisa’s former home.

Meanwhile, Rick said, he’s grateful to have a relatively safe place where he can live in his van. Highway patrol officers regularly check on vehicles overstaying the 8-hour limit to make sure drivers don’t have outstanding arrest warrants and aren’t intoxicated or on drugs, he said. “Speaking of which, all those years I was working, I thought people living the way I live now were deadbeats or drunks. Now I know better.”
There has to be someone related to Robert & Sylve Huckins must have some means to reach them, if it be Michael Huckins, Dr.Kenneth Ogilvie ( Diana Huckins? Dominic Huckins? Malcolm Huckins? ) or Patricia Ogilvie-Huckins and get them to return ALL of the money they stole from us so that I can buy a home and get our lives back. I am begging anyone in this family for help.

I don't believe I have EVER witnessed any none vio
lent crime that can be as devastating as stealing someone's home. I am walking in Dorothy McKeevers footsteps, day by day, month by month, year by year.

Liam Griffin, I sat in your law office with two witnesses as you gave me your promise, your guarantee, that our money would be returned before harm came to us.

Patricia Ogilvie-Huckins you were present the day I signed contract with your son. You walked out of the kitchen with Sylve Huckins and your son introduced me to you. He told you that I was the British horse trainer he had told you about, the one he was going to build the home and barn for. Why didn't you say something? There may be a rational and reasonable explanation but I have spent over 3 years, homeless, not understanding it. I understand it even less knowing that though I was a total stranger, both Dorothy McKeever and Sally Canning you KNEW, and you knew what your son had done to them and others.

Dr. Kenneth Ogilvie, I contacted you and simply a
sked for a reference, not knowing that Robert Huckins was your cousin. Robert Huckins had just stolen over $30,000 from the domestic violence shelter, HEAL, yet everyone was trying to hide it. There was a history of stealing large amounts of money. $65,000 PLUS from Nancy Canning. $89,000 PLUS from Dorothy McKeever, $45,000 from Francis McKinney. The list just goes on and on and on.
Because of Robert Huckins I ended up paying
$140,000 to be homeless.. sat in the cold, emotionally, physically and financially broke. In the middle of a recession, with no way to recover the stolen funds.

Today Robert Huckins has his own home...
He also has OUR home.....
He also has a lot of people's money...
And his freedom.

Women are not banks or loan institutions. Women should not be the source of a retirement fund for people who don't want to do an honest day's work for an honest day's pay. Holding women hostage while playing with the judicial system, a horrendous game of cat and mouse extending YEARS, with the victims whose very homes, families and stability are in jeopardy is cruelty, as cruel as a physical beating. It is financial and emotional RAPE. Homelessness is not justice. It is a slow, painful death.
Please, I beg with everything I have within me, pl
ease convince Robert Huckins to stop this torture and return the building fund he stole from us so we too, can have a home.

Relevant pages:

hite-nothing-but-white.htmlInsanity is doing the same thing, over and over again, but expecting different results. ~ Albert Einstein