In the course of a week, Talley, a caseworker for the program, checks in with most of his roughly 55 charges. Some need doctors, some need jobs, some need car repairs. On top of such daily concerns, Talley helps them through the laborious process of applying for low-income housing, though a few prefer a more-or-less permanent berth on the asphalt. "It's not my job to judge them because they might want to live in their vehicles," said Talley, who volunteers at a hospice during his off hours and plans to attend graduate school in social work next year. "I'm here to give them options."
Paraguay RPCV Shaw Talley works with Safe Parking program, which allows people to live -- sometimes for years -- in cars or RVs in about a dozen parking lots in Santa Barbara
Choosing their lots in life
A strict Santa Barbara program lets people live in their cars. For some it's transitional, but others are happy with their spot on the asphalt.
By Steve Chawkins, Los Angeles Times Staff Writer
December 31, 2007
Caption: ‘NOMADIC BY NATURE’: Harley Hill, 27, holds his son Theo in the RV he shares with his wife, Megan Connelly, 23, left, and daughter Anabelle Sophia. Last spring, Connelly gave birth to Theo in the RV, which they keep at the Santa Barbara County office complex as part of the city’s Safe Parking program. Hill has medical benefits, but he and Connelly both wanted the kind of privacy that’s rare in hospitals. Photo: Stephen Osman / Los Angeles Times
SANTA BARBARA -- Two or three nights a week, a 29-year-old ex-Peace Corps volunteer named Shaw Talley rolls through the parking lots in his old Volvo wagon, offering help where he can. In spaces where others see a handful of battered RVs and vans, Talley sees lives playing out, for better or worse.
[Excerpt]
Here, a Vietnam vet suffers from war wounds that keep him in constant pain. There, a man in a van plays classical music on his violin. Here, a diabetic gives himself an insulin shot under the dim glow of his dome light. There, a quiet middle-aged woman eases into her old Lincoln for the night, resting up for another day in customer service at a big-box store. In the glare of a street lamp, she relaxes with a book before closing her eyes.
All are beneficiaries of the city-sanctioned Safe Parking program, which allows people to live -- sometimes for years -- in cars or RVs in about a dozen parking lots that belong to the city, the county, churches, nonprofits and a few businesses in industrial areas.
In the course of a week, Talley, a caseworker for the program, checks in with most of his roughly 55 charges. Some need doctors, some need jobs, some need car repairs. On top of such daily concerns, Talley helps them through the laborious process of applying for low-income housing, though a few prefer a more-or-less permanent berth on the asphalt.
"It's not my job to judge them because they might want to live in their vehicles," said Talley, who volunteers at a hospice during his off hours and plans to attend graduate school in social work next year. "I'm here to give them options."
The five-year-old program, administered by the New Beginnings Counseling Center, is one of just a few across the United States. It is being considered as a possible model by neighborhood groups in the increasingly costly Venice area, where parking on congested blocks has been made even tougher by an influx of street campers.
"The streets aren't meant for living -- it's not acceptable," said Mike Newhouse, president of the Venice Neighborhood Council, which, with Los Angeles City Councilman Bill Rosendahl, is studying the Santa Barbara program. "And most folks here think it's not acceptable that anyone should be forced to live in a vehicle."
[Excerpt]
n the last couple of years, Talley figures that he has helped at least 35 people move from their vehicles into subsidized apartments. Even after the move, he checks in with them frequently, helping them deal with landlords, neighbors, monthly payments -- skills that can fall away with life on the streets.
Earlier this month, Linda Turner, 66, found a spot in a new low-income senior housing project. For eight years, she had lived in a van crammed with pillows, stuffed animals, self-help books and memories. A basket held the ashes of her cat. There were framed photos from happier times: Turner when she was a white-gloved flight attendant, and when she was in a Bavarian dance troupe. Another was of the son, now 37, whom she hasn't seen in years.
She's had dramatic ups and downs. One downward spiral was triggered, she said, by an attorney who was embezzling her life's savings. A choral singer, she likens her life to the powerful operatic work "Carmina Burana" because "it can be seen as musically confusing but also exciting."
Turner used to work in interior decorating but now gets by on Social Security and supplemental SSI payments -- a source of income she didn't have until Talley gave her the paperwork and helped her fill it out.
With a loan from New Beginnings, Turner recently headed for Washington to retrieve her great-grandmother's settee and other heirlooms. Over the years, she has paid $14,000 to store them.
"It's kept my hope going that one day I'd have a place," she said.
