Living on the Edge
Published 7:04 pm Thursday, October 2, 2008
P>As the holidays approach and winter closes in, most of us turn
our thoughts to family get-togethers, Christmas shopping and snuggling
in warm homes on cold December nights. But for some Valley
residents, the holiday joy is tempered by harsh reality.
They do not live on the streets. They work steady jobs. They
raise children, pay their taxes and vote. Yet, these are families living on the
edge, who by a series of catastrophic or unforeseeable events end up living
one paycheck, brief illness, one swift stroke of fate from utter despair.
Living in campgrounds, on undeveloped land and, occasionally,
on government owned property, they survive day-to-day. Occupying
small travel trailers or shelters made from tarps, they separate themselves
from those who choose a nomadic lifestyle and from those with substance
abuse or legal problems.
Though eager to talk about their circumstances and the conditions
they live in, they share a fear that by doing so they risk eviction, job loss or
ridicule.
This is the story of one family willing to share their struggles. At
their request, we will not use their real names. But within their tale
emerges the common thread of hardship and hope typical to many families
living on the edge in the Valley and across the state.
John, Ann and their 14-year-old son live in an aged, tiny,
borrowed travel trailer at the Snoqualmie River Campground in Fall City.
Clustered amongst a few dozen others who call the campground home, they pay
almost $700 per month rent.
Their troubles started in 1992, when Ann was diagnosed with
breast cancer.
“Eventually she had to take radiation and chemotherapy
treatments,” John explained. “I would take her
to the hospital every day. I missed too much work during the treatment
and lost my job.”
Living in a rented mobile home, they began falling behind in their
bills. “I was late with the rent a couple of times,” John said, “but I always
paid it. Then I was short $100 one month, so we got evicted immediately.”
With Ann still sick and receiving chemotherapy, the family’s
options narrowed. They turned to the homeless shelters for help, but were told
that they would have to split up _ men go to one shelter, women to another.
“We weren’t willing to split up the family,” said John. “I couldn’t
believe a married couple would have to separate from each other. There was
no way we were going to do that. We needed each other.”
Unwilling to separate and with no relief in sight, the family pitched
a small tent in the campground, paying $415 per month for the site. John
secured a job at a gas station/convenience store to pay the rent and
feed the family.
Eventually a relative was able to loan John and Ann the old travel
trailer. While this allowed them the use of an outside plug-in for power and
water through a garden hose, their rent was increased to $680 each month.
In September the family received the news they had been praying for
_ Ann’s cancer was in remission.
“My wife is such a strong lady,” John said, adding that the trial of
near homelessness had doubled the burden of her struggle to survive the
cancer. “She is just amazing.”
In October John secured a second full-time job, working as a
custodian for the school district. “Things
are looking up,” he said. “But we still
can’t afford to move. Rent in the Valley is high and people want first, last and
a damage deposit. It costs $2,000 or more to move into even a cheap
place, and you still have to deal with
utilities and deposits there. In the meantime, we have to keep coming up with
rent here every week.”
To be continued next week.
