One thing that makes reddit better than other link portal sites is that it behaves more like a forums community with text-based content and replies. Saw this thread a few moments ago here:
My Encounter with a Homeless Marine, His Wife and 4 Year Old
Just experienced something that shook me to the core and I can’t explain why but it did as I’m known to the people that know me for being a semi life hardened kind of guy . I’ve seen homeless people before many times in my life, but never a couple with a child. Most of the time in San Francisco it’s easy to walk by as you can tell they’re drug addicts or just plain scammers with signs at intersections. This time was different. Much different. Life Changing Different.
On my way to the San Bruno Post Office Just outside of San Francisco to mail off some eBay boxes I saw this couple just sitting in the corner of the lot, not begging or panhandling but just looking over their belongings as a 3-4 year old boy came running around the corner right into me falling on the floor.
The mother came over and apologized and I noticed how dirty she was and could tell she had been on the streets for at least a couple of weeks. She looked to be mid twenties. In a typical mother fashion she pulled him along telling him to watch out and be careful.
The whole time I was in line at the Post Office I really wasn’t there mentally as I was trying to find any other logical explanation other than a 4 year old being a homeless kid. I just couldn’t comprehend it.
On the way out I made a beeline straight to my car in a hurry looking down at the parking lot the whole way out. As I backed out I couldn’t help it, I threw it back into park and walked over to them.
Found out the guy was a 27 year old former combat Marine that had served four tours and had been out 2 years. He had lost his job a few months ago working at a warehouse. He jokingly said, but was absolutely factual when he stated that “Unemployment insurance makes you a well funded homeless person in Cali”. Neither one had any family that could or would help.
He’s right, $700 a month really won’t do a whole lot for you in California. He said he tried to re-enlist but the Marines aren’t exactly hiring right now and are actually pushing people out. He wasn’t a poser as any of you Vets know it’s easy to spot. You can just tell.
When I tried to give them the last $10.00 in my pocket he wouldn’t take it but said if I wanted to help him out I could walk with him inside the Safeway so he could get his kid some juice. Every time he goes in there the managers run him out as his family had camped out behind the store a few times. He said he guessed a homeless family was bad for business as he said he never once did anything wrong in there except use the restroom too many times he guessed.
I took them down to Safeway and went inside with him. He paid for the juice and few groceries with a Wells Fargo debit card so I know he wasn’t lying about the source of a small income. Apparently he was indeed known to the crew at Safeway as the cashier told him he better hurry before he was spotted in there. I told her I was with him and she just smiled.
Getting back to the car the little boy was asleep. He woke them up and got their stroller out of the car with their back packs. He extended his hand and said thanks Sir, I appreciate the kindness and if you know of anyone looking for a hard worker let me know.
I told him I lived not far away and my wife and I wouldn’t mind if they cleaned up and took a hot shower. He declined and explained if your clean on the streets you’re a target as other homeless can sense when you have two cents more than them. Apparently you’re target also if you appear homeless at Safeway too.
Feeling totally helpless to help them I said “What are you going to do son”
I’m not ashamed to admit my eyes teared up when he said “Improvise, Overcome and Adapt Sir, Semper Fi”
I just stood there frozen in disbelief, anger and sadness as I watched them cross the street and fade into San Bruno National Cemetery. I’ll never forget this as long as I live. This definitely isn’t the same United States of America I grew up in. What in the hell has happened to this country?
A reddit reply:
As someone who was homeless in California before, let me go over this post, because it’s very interesting.
First:
I told her I was with him and she just smiled.
Translation: He will still be kicked out.
Apparently you’re target also if you appear homeless at Safeway too.
Let me fix this. If you appear homeless anywhere in Cali, you’re a target. You’re a target for cops, bum bashers, other homeless people (there is no honor among thieves), or anyone who just plain old doesn’t like the looks of a homeless person. That last one is not me just making stuff up; people will call on you just because you’re there and they don’t like how you look. They will make up stories about you aggressively panhandling, relieving yourself in public, or drinking in public to get a faster officer response. Once the cops are there, you’re going to have problems, because they will believe the affluent-sounding callers over you any old day of the week.
Most of the time in San Francisco it’s easy to walk by as you can tell they’re drug addicts or just plain scammers with signs at intersections.
They may be drug addicts, but they are still PEOPLE. People that need help. Also, there are a few professional homeless people you meet from time to time, but a lot of the dudes flying a sign are doing it so they don’t really have to interact with people. You might not think, but we try to have some modicum of dignity even when we’re homeless, and some folks just don’t want to walk up to someone else and ask them for anything, but will take help if it’s offered. Not everyone flying a sign is a scam artist.
Sure, some of them buy beer and cigarettes, drugs, whatever. You have to understand how desperate you are to forget about your situation when you’re homeless and have no real hope of ever getting out of it. When I was homeless, I asked a guy once why he drank so much. He was an older guy, and he told me “because it makes the pain go away.” I said: “What pain? War injury? Tooth pain? Old broken bone?” He goes: “No, man. Just the pain of being alive sometimes.” I didn’t get it back then, but after being on the streets for so long, I totally understood. I never drank a drop whilst homeless, but I never chagrined anyone who did.
I guess I am just sad that it took a dude who was a combat vet to make you see homeless people as people. I could be wrong about your views, but that’s how your story makes it sound.
Another reply:
This story hits very close to home with me. Though I am not homeless, my ex-husband is a homeless vet, suffering from PTSD. He served one tour in OEF, 15 months. They sent me back the body of my husband, but not the soul, heart or personality. He returned unbearable to be around, let alone live with. We have three kids, so I did not have the time or resources to figure out how to fix this violent/sad/angry/emotionally disturbed man. How do they compensate for ruining him? He receives around $800 a month is VA disability, and $0 goes to our three kids. Before he was deployed, he’d drink occasionally and within reason. In the two years he’s been back, he’s had 3 DUIs and received countless disorderly conduct charges and public intoxication charges. They give him his stipend each month, never once requiring any kind of rehabilitation program or offering my kids jack squat for ruining their daddy. God bless America.
And from account ‘randomrealitycheck‘
This definitely isn’t the same United States of America I grew up in. What in the hell has happened to this country?
Actually, this is the United States of America that you grew up in, you just never saw its seedy underside before.
You see, we used to do a better job keeping “those people” out of your sight, and we were damn good at it. In the early 1960s, Bobby Kennedy took a trip to West Virginia and brought the TV cameras with him to document exactly what poverty was like in rural America.
West Virginia was none too pleased at this, screaming that they were being singled out when this problem existed in every state – and they were right.
But you see, we didn’t go to those bad neighborhoods, we stayed out of them and as far as us comfortable people were concerned, there wasn’t a problem – as you yourself seemed to believe.
This isn’t “your generation’s Vietnam” and I take great exception to those who would say that it is, having known many Vietnam vets who were homeless, cast aside, and left to fend for themselves.
There is a reason why the Great Society was created – not because Americans don’t give to charity (we do) but because Americans were not giving enough to charity to make a difference.
Welfare didn’t cause this problem, the problem created welfare. And to those who would claim otherwise, I hold you in contempt for trying to paint this problem in any other light than admitting that our economic system has failed a large number of our fellow Americans – and has always done so.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go straighten out that Chinese made I Support Our Troops magnet on my car – so I can feel as though I did my part.
Oh and OP, welcome to reality, it’s nice that you decided to join us.
So much disturbing news over the past month and then I see this crazy pic on a friend’s facebook (which doesn’t really relate to anything). But things like this makes me think of when I was spooked: I can remember when I saw a disheveled homeless person walking the aisles of a grocery store years ago and I just followed him closely behind with my cart wanting to help or just examine how fragile the situation was. You can just naturally feel when things are way out of place, and out of balance: innate equilibrium. I wanted to offer him rooming at my apartment and thought of ways to generate some cash for him in some way because I felt so empathetic at that moment. Or there’s the times talking to the security guards at my apartment: one morbidly obese 400+lbs with World of Warcraft addictions, or one living in far to commute trailers at age 40 just getting by every month and telling me about their specific hospital problems their parents are undergoing (and they would just be downtrodden for the rest of the months), or when one guard was describing his Vietnam veteran experiences and recent stories where he would wake up in violent positions with his wife probably from his PTSD (he was older in his 70s and they still had to sleep in different beds). And he smoked cigarettes — at that point just not giving a hoot (and probably high cortisol) and you just can’t do anything about it to help them or improve in any way (all hope has exponentially spiraled toward rock bottom). And then… you never see them again: they are lost in your memory. It’s one of those surreal things you see and think about later in repose and simply cannot get out of your head.
Like an Everlast song (1998):
Watching the most helpless moments is the most vulnerable human aspect of life and like the ending of that music video it really makes you question all of the avarice greed and success on the opposite side of the spectrum. Reminds me of that John Carpenter movie TheyLive (1988) where all humans are perpetually down on their luck and subject to secret control and social conformity by an hidden underground, advanced alien race:
[@10min] I've got a wife and two kids back in Detroit. I haven't seen them in six months. The steel mills were laying people off. They finally went under. We gave the steel companies a break. They gave themselves pay raises. The golden rule: He who has the gold makes the rules. If they close one more factory, we should take a sledge to their foreign cars. - You should have more patience. I'm all out. The whole deal is some kind of crazy game. The name of the game is: Make it through life. Only everyone is out for themselves and looking to do you in. You do what you can, but I'm going to do my best to blow your ass away. So how are you going to make it? - My chance will come. - I believe in America. - I follow the rules. - Everybody has got - their own hard times, these days.
Watch beyond 10minutes until you get to Part 3 for the best part. It stars campy professional wrestler Rowdy Roddy Piper and that disturbed woman from 1985 Twilight Zone episode Dreams For Sale (with the eyes).
Edit: Reminds me of this story by TheSHOW (my favorite podcast at the moment) by JohnRambo discussing this homeless story in New York
(click pic below to see full comic… wanna make sure the original site gets its due hits)
Check out his other comics too… reminds me of extended versions of 
