SPIRAL TOWARD DESPAIR

For some, being homeless is the result of misfortune, loss of a job,
marital problems, etc., but for others, it is self-imposed.

This is a true story that begins with a seventh-grader in middle
school who is introduced to marijuana -- you know, that harmless drug
that some want legalized. Subsequently, his interest in school and
sports trails off.

In high school, his attention span is diminished, and he is frequently
truant. Due to truancy, he is placed in a youth "boot camp" in Santa
Barbara County for six months. He later is held in custody at a youth
corrections facility at Camarillo Airport.

As this young man ages (I can't say matures), he creates problems at
home by stealing money and/or items to sell. With two young siblings
in the house, his parents establish rules of behavior, which he
frequently violates. By the time he reaches the age of 18, his
relationship with his parents is in tatters. He has no interest in
getting a job, and his parents refuse to allow him to sleep or lie
around the house all day. They finally find themselves out of choices,
and they change the locks on the house, forcing the young man out on
the street.

Family members plead with him to join the military in order to put his
life together and get a fresh start, but he rejects that suggestion.
There is no guarantee that he would have made a success of the
military had he again turned to drugs.

At 18, he now joins the ranks of the homeless. How he survives without
a job, car or money is a story by itself. Apparently rotating among
friends, he finds a place to sleep or a meal, but, after several
years, those friends have moved on, and meals are few and far between.

Still indulging in illegal drugs, he is arrested for being under the
influence of a controlled substance. He goes to court and is placed on
probation. Without a mailing address, notices to appear in court are
not received, and the court issues a warrant for failure to appear.
For each court appearance, there is a financial charge attached. Even
in the event he knew of a court date, he has no means of
transportation to get there and no money for public transportation. A
part-time job allowed him to acquire $200, with which he bought a
junker of a car that provided a place to sleep, but, unable to obtain
insurance or register it, he gets cited for a Department of Motor
Vehicles violation. Without money to pay the fine, the DMV lifts his
license. The car is impounded, and the cost makes retrieval
impractical.

This, of course, is the downward spiral. Without a valid license, he
loses his part-time job because he can't drive the company vehicle.
With more violations of probation or failure to appear, he enters the
revolving door of the courts and county jail. The court costs mount
into the thousands of dollars. The DMV fines remain unpaid. Without a
mailing address or telephone, obtaining a job is virtually impossible,
since prospective employers have no way to contact him if they want to
hire him. With no home, no money, no transportation and few
possessions in the way of clothing, the climb out of this deep hole
appears to be nearly impossible, thus despair.

To put this young man on his feet financially would require a
substantial investment and the trust that he would not spend any gift
of money on drugs. It would require loaning him a car with the
necessary insurance and, again, trust that he would not drive under
the influence of drugs. It would require paying all outstanding court
costs and fines to preclude further warrants for his arrest. It would
take an advance for rent of a room, never mind an apartment. It
requires an employer willing to take a chance on him.

As he spends his days walking across the city of Thousand Oaks, going
from winter shelter to shelter, he has little for which to give thanks
or hope of the future. It will now be up to society, the taxpayers, to
continue paying for his incarceration, public defender, food stamps,
public healthcare, etc.

My grandson, now 21, needs help. Does anyone have any
suggestions?