View from Cherry Hill, 2

This view from the top of the driveway was best left original emailed size. The camera phone actually has three image sizes and maybe some day I will figure out how to use the function.

The bit of palm trees on the right is where the bike path ends and picks up on the opposite side of the driveway. It is there on the right that I took the image of the stairs that was a bit too long distance and a decent shot of the parking meters mostly. Turning to the right is the photo I titled "Bluff" in prior post.

Doubt that I ever parked in the lot when I was still homed, but did skate past that driveway a good many times! Always enjoyed the walk down the road and back up again. It got old fast with the heavy backpack. As always every time I was here my mind raced backwards remembering when I loved the exercise and pull on my cafes going back uphill.

Bluff

A bit fuzzy from enlarging. View of bluff from Cherry Hill driveway; the bike bath and the rest room building barely visible. The little bit of blue on the left edge is the Life Guard Station.

There were a couple of concrete picnic tables in front of the rest room building. Often played cards with JD there or talked with the other homeless people that slept in the area of the bluff.

View From Cherry Hill, 1

Enlarging this image created those wavy blurs around stuff like the tall palm trees. Did no image enhancing because it was an overcast morning and rather expresses the gloomy way I would often feel during street living days.

As per prior post I have dubbed this image series Cherry Hill. If memory serves me I snapped this from a bench where I sat many a night waiting upon 10 PM when parks closed and I began a slow walk into town to sleep. Or alternatively would find an available bench along Ocean Blvd. and lay down to go to sleep. Or lay awake with my eyes closed for hours.

To the left center edge is the restroom building. In front of that is the bike path. The path ends at the driveway leading to the parking lot, and picks up on the other side as shown in prior image.

1/4 mile to the right of the building is where I spent many an hour when I lived on First Street and for 3 years on Broadway. The beach at this area was usually crowded with families and noisy kids. The other restroom was 1/4 mile past "my beach". I often picked up my keys, wallet and trotted to one or the other restrooms when I was spending a few hours at the beach. People had given me dire warnings about leaving stuff unattended at the beach: they will steal it.

My expression was: if they needed it more than I did they could have it. It took a while to trust leaving my library books at the beach towel while I used a restroom. I decided to risk it and pay the cost if they got stolen. Nothing was ever taken. Once I was homeless I became quite wild about keeping my stuff with me at all times. I did not trust anyone to watch my stuff when I went off to the GR office or even to the corner store. This is everything I own...

Other homeless peers were less worried; much like I once was. They were not attached to stuff; could get new (used) jeans or sweats or a toothbrush, even sleeping bags and coats from one of the places that provided such things. I was never robbed while homeless. Many others were and only had one real scare on that issue, when the kid was trying to get my wallet from my back pocket while I was asleep. I used to put it in my side pocket when I bedded down for the night.

Directly across from the building is the place I wrote about which the homeless called The Bluff.

Cherry Hill

Actually the long curved driveway from Ocean Blvd to the Cherry Street Parking Lot is nearer the corner of Junipero and it is Avenue, not street. I can not say if the parking lot is named by the city. Now that I am able to email the photos to myself, I will be sharing the images I took at the Safe Haven picnic~the views of the beach from Bixby Park.

This was my attempt to capture the stairs I often climbed. Why did I think I could capture the Alfredo/restroom building and a bit of the bike path also! On the right edge, if you can make out the tall pine tree (I guess it is a tree) that bit of blur is the building with the overhang and tree stump stool and bathroom stall images from prior post.

The curved sidewalk is the bike path that I skated upon many a happy day. I was standing at the edge of the driveway that leads to the parking lot from the street. That thing on the bottom edge of the photo about an inch from the right is a parking meter. Look to the left of the top of that parking meter; the beige line going up the hill is the stairs.

Those stairs would remind me of walking past them with Walter, watching a guy on skates run up them without holding onto the rail. I told Walter that long ago day: that is my goal to do that someday. He probably laughed at me or I laughed at myself. Yeah, right.

I had learned by watching Crazy Skater how to walk down them backwards in my skates. I would practice with just one hand lightly on the railing as I went up and down. I would pick up speed, but extremely cautious. I do not like pain and did all I could to avoid any accidents.

Every time I went down the Cherry street hill and looked at those stairs that is what I would think about: skating, my old days, my happy days, my future plans. And the anger would creep up or the opposite sadness and longing.

Restroom Stalls

The bike path restroom stalls basically all look like this. This is from the building where the overhang snapshot was taken.

Ladies like to go to that back stall so that other females entering will not be walking past them. It is embarrassing to walk past the people; looking straight ahead at the wall and out of the corner of one's eye to see if one is available. Short people, like me are not visible when sitting on the low toilets.

Quite a few times will come upon a homeless gal sleeping in that back corner; perhaps even in this particular restroom. Some of the crack cocaine users would sit in one of these stalls for hours on end. It was a big problem at the Alamitos restroom. One lady would constantly be rolling toilet paper and clog the toilets. It was hard to "roll" the roll which was on a square type metal roll holder. I learned early in my homeless days to always carry a roll of toilet paper with me.

These restrooms do not have paper towels; some do have blow dryers. So the roll was often used to dry hands, in addition to blow my nose and for all those times there was none in any of the stalls.

The Alamitos beach and Cherry Ave beach were the most busy on weekends. It amazed me that no one complained with the constant flow of people into the Alamitos restroom, especially when one of the homeless sleepers stretched out in the corner brought her shopping cart inside with her. I was horribly ashamed to go to the back stall there, sit on the floor, using my backpack as a pillow, curled up to take catnaps early in the AM just after the restroom opened for the day and very few people, if any would be using the restroom.

Did I already write about that Beach Maintenance guy? Dunno. Will do no now.

Freezing Cold & Wet

"I picked the rainiest winter season on record to be homeless", I often said. When I packed everything I owned in the old Honda to relocate to California, my thought was: If I am going to be homeless, I want it to be in a warm climate. Whoever thinks that poverty does not lead to homelessness has never lacked for money or affordable housing.

I love Long Beach in the summer; the constant cool breeze makes even the hottest days bearable. I came to hate that breeze and wind while living on the streets. Especially with all that rain. I was always freezing cold and wet. Having barely slept at night, one morning I crawled into that back corner, closed my eyes and was instantly asleep. As mentioned, I had seen many a homeless woman napping in the restrooms. "You are on the floor next to a toilet", I would tell myself. Shameful. But I was so tired. And cold. And wet.

I often took off the soaked coat, sweatpants and put on a dry pair of socks, hanging them over the stall walls; hoping they would dry a bit as I dozed. When I heard a maintenance truck I would jump instantly up and sit fully clothed on the toilet. As stated, I am short, but if the cleaner popped inside, I would stand to give the impression that I had not been caught sleeping in the bathroom.

The cleaners did not come until 9 or 10 usually, sometimes later. But some days one of the crew would hit all the restrooms to take out the trash and replace the bag. The man have to call out before entering. One of them did not do so. He was startled to find me there. Said he thought no one was up that early. Perhaps a little after 5AM. He was nice about it; told me I could stay there, he was only emptying the bag. Do not recall much after that, but vaguely recall complaining about him to Eddie, Shorty and the guys.

Wants to give me money

Did not do my early AM catnap at that restroom very often. Whatever that maintenance guy said had me worried. He had seemed quite understanding and compassionate as many of the Beach Patrol and other maintenance people are of the homeless. They overlook a lot. Perhaps he had mentioned that he was supposed to ask me to leave...dunno.

On one of those if I do not get some sleep I will keel over soaking wet cold mornings I did curl up for a nap. Along comes Harry. I do not remember his name anymore, so Harry will do. I had all my wet stuff hanging. He said he wanted to help me out; did I need any money. I used to tell everyone "no" when they asked. Du'oh, of course I needed money! I realized quickly just to say "yes". He wanted a favor in return for his help. I quickly put on my wet hooded sweatshirt and soaked coat, stuffed the other stuff in my backpack and was out the door.

It was pouring. I stood under the little overhang staring at the long walk across the parking lot, up the hill to the street trying to figure out where I could go. Fuming that I had just settled in for a bit of respite from the rain. That may have been the morning after the hurricane like or tornado winds. The water in the streets was so deep and wide at the curbs even trying to jump across them would land me in a puddle. The sidewalks were not much better.

He came out and apologized for insulting me. He handed me a $5.00 bill which I refused to take. No, no, he insisted, I am really sorry I said that to you, I want you to have it. I relented and took the bill and he promptly grabbed me to pull me back inside the rest room. I threw his bill on the ground and took off in the rain cussin' him as I went.

Eddie and the guys said I should report him. Yeah, right. His word against mine. Homeless lady sleeping illegally in the rest room...

That was my last catnap in pre-dawn restroom stalls. Doubt if I would recognize Harry if I saw him today. Back then I would see him now and then somewhere along the route. But even then I would confuse faces and never be sure (is he the one?).