Day 168, January 16, 2012 MLK Day.

I will start by acknowledging this great American who certainly deserves having his birthday, his life and efforts to unite ALL of us celebrated.  In terms of MOMM I want to start by apologizing for being out of touch for so long.  I will admit that some of it was technical, some of it my laziness but there is a part of it that doesn’t want to admit or accept or actually believe that I just finished walking 1460+ miles pulling an 80 lb trailer from Missoula, MT to Los Angeles, CA.  There is a certain amount of me “not wanting or being able to let go”.  I walked the last 8+ miles with my old (relatively speaking) friend Benjamin Fitch and my new friend Bob Dixon (Dixon Roller Pack).  I enjoyed and relished the company.  Unfortunately in terms of PR I had chosen the official New Year’s Day holiday and Rose Bowl Monday to end my journey.  I remember observing that I had never seen downtown Los Angeles so empty.  Everybody in L.A. was at the Rose Bowl or at home watching the parade and game.   I am thankful that ABC 7 LA showed up to cover my finish and the people waiting from the LACW were there on their day off to welcome me and celibrate my finish.  I remember walking and talking down 6th avenue but when we got close I looked up and saw the street sign announcing “GLADYS” and it hit me.  I stopped in my tracks and looked at Ben.  Ben knew what had happened and with a nod he went ahead to the finish line in order to film it for me.  I turned to Bob and thanked him and then ceremoniously asked him to go ahead of me.  I wanted to finish the last block alone, by myself.  In the time I spent waiting for them to get their ahead of me I thought of Rachel, her Andy, my family and friends, my mom and all the “Road Angels” who helped me do this crazy thing.  The tears didn’t come easy because finishing was hard to accept on many levels but finishing the march as a way to memorialize Rachel’s life was foremost in my mind and heart.  I miss you Rachel Lynn.  I love you.  Please accept my “crazy march” as my way of showing  you how much you meant to all of us.

With all my love, from

“Crazy Uncle Stephen”

Stephen did it! He walked all 1,460 miles from the Poverello Center in Missoula, MT to the Hospitality Kitchen in LosAngeles in a whopping 5 months. Thanks to everyone who followed My One Man March!

Friends, Stephen is having computer troubles and we are trying to get him a new computer. Until then, please follow his progress through Facebook. We also update the News section of this website with M.O.M.M. articles as they appear in the press. Thanks for your continued support as we work through this.

DAY 125: DECEMBER 4, 2011, Salinas, CA mile 1169.

 Stream of Consciousness.

Are you familiar with the phrase “stream of consciousness”?  A lot of what I write in my journal contains eddies and whirlpools from my stream of consciousness. Please allow me to share. In the stream everything is simply flowing and moving and constantly changing but ever seeming to remain the same. Most of the stream is simply life sliding pass, mundane and unremarkable, gurgling, bouncing flipping but always flowing.  My observations, reactions and thoughts are similar in that they are what they are and I float with them.  I have floated with many different pains, physical and emotional, suffering and feeling hurt and defeated.  I have drifted slowly and gently with many gifts of goodness from the stream and I cling to these moments like a man who holds desperately onto a piece of drift wood to stay above the water, to stay alive.  I have been uplifted by hope and dejected by the actions of our collective human failings.  Not all moments in the stream are pleasant but some are extremely peaceful and beautiful but in the end all is fleeting and nothing appears permanent.

Arriving in Salinas, CA I effectively went under 300 miles left to go to finish the march but I can’t shake the feeling that the closer I get to the end of the march the further off the goal of success seems to be in the distance.  It is a hard fact to accept that even with any success, failure will still be present.  How can anyone accept that they are doing something good when failure will persists regardless of the effort?  I am extremely thankful for the love and support being given to me on this journey but at the same time I can escape at any time and be done with the isolation and sense of failure that living on the streets so cruelly delivers.  Obviously, I am struggling with something that feels like failure.  I know that as you read this blog entry your first instinct will be to reassure me and for that I am thankful.  However, I can’t escape how any success I achieve will be tainted by the fact that when the homeless hit this wall there will be too few available to reassure them.  The goal of raising $1 Million is secondary to raising awareness but more importantly, secondary to encouraging people to participate in finding a solution. This project is my one man march and a personal challenge to see if one man can make a difference. The only way for me to succeed is for me to fail.  One man can’t solve the problem of homelessness.  The social problem of homelessness can only be solved by the combined efforts of many individuals, coming together as a cohesive unit to tackle the problem of homelessness in their own community.  This solution applies to any city, any town, any state, any nation and the world.  The undeniable fact is that if you live in a community and elect to not participate in the solution of homelessness then you regrettably make you’re your inaction and indifference part of the problem.  Money is one thing but awareness and participation is the key.  At this moment I am reminded of the Tina Turner version of the CCR song, “Rolling on the River”. “Rolling, Rolling, Rolling on the River”.

DAY 120:  NOVEMBER 29, 2011. Santa Cruz, CA. 1141 miles.

Good Bye ANDY, we love you and say hello to RACHEL.

The sky is a crisp and clear blue.  Gentle breezes shake the multi colored leaves from their limbs sending them to lie to rest on asphalt and concrete.  The air is a comfortable autumn cool and the people of Santa Cruz are  wearing flip-flops, shorts and hoodies.  I left this morning to get a photograph taken for the Santa Cruz Sentinel who is doing a story on the M.O.M.M. project.  I was upbeat and hopeful.  After the photo shoot I was on my return trip to some friend’s house where I am staying when I met a homeless man who I am calling “Wizard”.  He wouldn’t give me his name but referred to himself as a hallucinogenic and cannabis wizard.

He is a self-described shaman who is persecuted by an indifferent, lying, fascist establishment and stalked by Christian cultists who call him a faggot and pedophile.  He believes that a wire has been implanted in his body between his cerebral cortex and voice box and that as soon as he left Eureka, CA in Humboldt County the voices started.  I spent almost an hour with this man.  He was obviously suffering from either a chemically induced or genetically active mental disorder producing paranoid and persecutory delusions.  He was very angry, suicidal and homicidal.  I listened and he was thankful that he had me to talk with and to vent.

His options are few.  He sees psychotropic medication as being forced control and the health care system refuses to see him.  He is carrying a heavy emotional load and during his screaming outbursts would get very red in the face, tear up and spittle would fly everywhere.  Given the amount of time he has spent on the streets without access to showers and disheveled hair and clothing he came across looking like a rabid dog frothing at the mouth and snapping at anything within reach.  This man needs help but the health care and legal systems in America can’t or won’t provide for him.  According to the judicial system, people have the right to be crazy and refuse medication and can only be forced into health care against their will when they become a threat to themselves or others.  Getting someone “committed” against their will is very difficult because of the rampant abuse perpetrated in the past against individuals by health care providers (think One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest).  I don’t recall all the specific circumstances but professionals working in the counseling and medical fields are bound by law to intervene in suicidal situations and report homicidal threats when a potential victim of violence can be established.  It is a judgment call and a difficult one.  Wizard didn’t have a knife to slit his throat with nor did he say that he possessed any guns to go on a shooting spree.  I was alarmed enough to consider calling the authorities and still might as of this posting but the system has a better chance of failing him then it does of helping him.  That was my morning.

I arrived back to the residence where I am staying feeling overwhelmed with how inadequate our system is when dealing with the homeless who suffer from mental health problems like Wizard’s.  I then received a phone call from my older brother Glenn.  Glenn doesn’t call people to chat.  Strangely enough, I had been expecting a call like this from Glenn ever since I left Missoula.  I answered the phone and with a question in my voice asked him, “What’s up?’’.  Glenn delivered the sad news that Rachel’s fiancé, Andy Norman had died that morning.  Andy was 32 years old and had valiantly been fighting a long battle against cancer.  Rachel and Andy were a happy young couple and good for one another as far as I could tell.  Rachel was killed in late February  by a drunk driver and here we are, 9 months later, having to say good bye to her fiancée.  His cancer had been in remission but it didn’t stay in remission and apparently Andy had recently decided to continue his fight and go back on chemo-therapy.  His battle is over.

I am sad that he is gone because he was part of our family as well.  Even more so after Rachel’s death because of how close they were and his presence gave us a piece of Rachel to hold onto.  I am glad that he won’t be in pain any longer and will remember him fondly.  He always struck me as a gentle loving young man who cared deeply for Rachel.  I wonder how Rachel’s untimely death impacted Andy’s ability to fight the cancer and it is question that need not be answered and as I continue on I will take solace in the fact that they had their love for each other.  I see them together now, embracing, with tears flowing but with joy and peace in their hearts.

DAY 116:  NOVEMBER 25, 2011. Santa Clara/San Jose area. 10:58am.

Last night’s experience was educational and cold.  In an alley off a street named Hemlock, we served not just food to the hungry and homeless but gave out blankets, socks, clothing, jackets and conversation.  Just up the alley were three people manning a needle-exchange table.  It was my conversation with the volunteers at the needle exchange table that was the most educational.  I learned about the variety of syringes offered, details related to chronic drug use with needles and the public health benefits of offering needle exchange programs.  Sometimes, even with all that I have seen I still feel like I just fell off the turnip truck.  It’s one thing to watch TV and hear about the war on drugs and all that goes along with it and then see it firsthand.  I would have to compare it seeing pictures of great art in an art history book versus the grand experience of standing face to face opposite a Monet, Rembrandt, Picasso or any great piece of art.  Of course, last night’s experience whould be the flip side of grand but important none the less.  My thanks to Rev. Father River Sims and the work he does for the hungry and homeless of San Francisco.  Short and sweet today because I am feeling pressured to move on to Santa Cruz. and all points south.

DAY 113:  NOVEMBER 22, 2011. Mountain View, CA, 9:27am.

I spent the night behind a sales building at an old auto sales lot that was no longer doing business.  I felt safe and secure but the ground was cold and it takes some time for my legs to relax enough for me to fall asleep.  I don’t know why my legs are feeling so wonky at the end of a day.  I am pretty sure it’s not long hard miles because I am not going very far in one stretch any longer and the terrain is flat for the most part.  My right knee is bothering me a bit and has been for a while.  If I wear my walking shoes I am able to make good time and the pain is minimal.  The pain comes later in the day and I switch to the cam boot.  However, by starting out in my walking shoes, I put my fractured left foot at higher risk of further damage.  If I wear the cam boot, my gait is all helter-skelter and it kills my shin and ankle and I wonder how it impacts my right knee and back.  I have to stuff foam rubber pieces into the spots where it impacts my shin and ankle just to make the pain bearable enough to walk.  The other day I had to wear my all weather boots and either they aren’t broken in yet or ill-fitting but they kill my ankles as well and I am wary of getting into the blister game again.

I didn’t make a lot of miles yesterday but it was an enjoyable walk because I am following CA route 82 known as El Camino Real (The King’s Highway).  It winds its way through many picturesque little towns.  I walked past the Stanford University Campus, was apparently two blocks away from Facebook headquarters and was surrounded by lots of slow traffic and had sidewalks to use most of the way.  I was already past the Stanford campus when I passed a gentleman and he called to me and asked if I was the guy he had heard about on KCBS radio.  I said I was and we started chatting and to my surprise he walked with me for almost a mile.  Most of the time I am stationary when I am explaining the MOMM project goals.  It was an enjoyable conversation and he gave me a donation to boot.  The money he donated will go to help the homeless but for me I want to thank him for spending some of his time just walking and talking.  It was the time he spent walking and talking with me that was uplifting and left me feeling hopeful.  Furthermore, it is this kind of human to human interaction that I too have experienced that feeds the soul of the homeless and it is this exact kind of human to human interaction that I want to encourage others do when they see the homeless.

Donation of money is important to sustain organizations committed to serving the poor and offering life changing opportunities to the homeless.  Unfortunately, giving your money directly to the homeless feels more like a guilt ridden nuisance and may go to feeding an addiction and enabling destructive individual behavior instead of for food or gas or whatever.  If you want to give money, give it to your local shelter, food bank or other organizations.  However, I would also encourage you to also consider learning about your local shelter or food bank.  Give them some of your time or when you see someone who is homeless give them some of your time and include your knowledge of local resources.  It doesn’t always have to be about money.  Don’t feel like you have to give the homeless money.  Be honest and tell them how you choose to give indirectly.  Tell them that you volunteer at the local shelter and give money to organizations that work with helping the homeless.  It is ok to draw a line at giving money directly to the homeless because you fear that they might be wasting it on alcohol or other drugs.  If they are hungry buy them food that can’t be exchanged and don’t include the receipt (too much of a temptation to exchange it for alcohol or other drugs).  If they look cold ask them if they need a blanket, a hoody or a pair of gloves and carry some extras in the trunk of your car.  If you see a particular person panhandling on a regular basis outside of a store and you give them some of your time once and set your boundaries (no money, maybe food or a blanket, a few minutes of your time) then your next encounter can be spent just chatting, asking how they are doing and you won’t have to deal with the awkward guilt trip of not giving them money.  Instead, you can just keep reinforcing where the resources are in your area and how those resources are available whenever they (the homeless) are ready to change their circumstances.  Be ready with addresses and phone numbers, ask if they are a veteran and have those resources ready to give them.  Ok, that is enough with the soapbox.  The sun is shining and I have miles to go.  I also want to thank you, the reader for listening and maybe, just maybe, trying to be more human in your interactions with other humans that are living homeless.  Thanks.

Sincerely,

stephen T! millhouse

DAY 112:  NOVEMBER 21, 2011, 6:49AM, San Carlos, CA.

I didn’t sleep well at all last night and am up early waiting for day break.  I found a spot to camp in an open field that is slated for development.  There were no signs warning people away and the area didn’t look like it got a lot of transient foot traffic.  The only down side was that it was next to some railroad tracks.  Not your normal railroad tracks but a commuter railroad track. I was up against a lengthy embankment covered with trees and bushes but the downdraft and noise of these passing behemoths scared the living daylights out of me.  I was sure these metal beasts were coming off the tracks and falling down the embankment and that I would be flattened and undiscovered for weeks, if at all.  It is a damp and chilly morning but there was no rain last night and that makes me happy.  I can hear the occasional seagull calling and see them cruising by looking for whatever humanity refuses.

Last night as I lay waiting for the sandman I actually saw a couple of stars and felt homesick for the big wide open of anywhere but here.  For a brief moment, very brief, I actually found myself longing for a frosty winter day up at our cabin with a toasty fire and a good book to keep me warm with the tea pot whistling a slow calming tune.

Yesterday I talked briefly about pondering the idea of humanity’s indifference toward the homeless.  I was on the road maybe 5 minutes when I stopped at a light and heard someone calling.  I turned and a woman came up and asked what I was “marching” for.  I explained the MOMM project and she gave me a donation.  Her name was Cynthia and as we talked discovered that she works at a VA facility and had actually seen something about my visit to the Martinez clinic and the MOMM project.  The reason I point this out is that she had given me the donation prior to us making the VA connection.  Throughout this trip whenever I start to feel down and start questioning why I am out here something happens to change my tune and reassure me that there are good people out there who do care about the homeless issue.

Cynthia thanked me for helping to generate awareness about the homeless and for my service in the Marine Corps and we went our separate ways.  I want to extend my thanks to Cynthia for the donation and for the reassurance in the good will of humanity.  I actually think I can see some sunlight and blue sky breaking through the fog and smog.  I am pretty sure that is my cue to get packing but part of me just wants to curl up under the warmth of my sleeping bag and take a little nap.  I will finish my coffee and hit the road on my way to the Palo Alto and Santa Clara area.

DAY 111: NOVEMBER 20, 2011. TOTAL MILES 1075.

I made it out of San Fran and all the way to Millbrae.  I found a wi-fi spot and then went searching for a place to pitch my tent.  There was a church nearby but it was locked down tight with warnings to trespassers everywhere.  Even the lawn is untouchable to parishioners as well as pagans.  I found a quiet little neighborhood park and pitched my tent back in the shadowed corners under some huge elm trees.  I wasn’t discovered or disturbed but come morning I could barely shake off the fog in my head and get excited about the day ahead.  Of course, it hasn’t started in earnest because I am presently getting my wi-fi fix and blogging but the rain seems to come in heaves and fits like a toddler separated from his mother. WAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! pause, big breath, shuddering smaller breath, slow build, WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!  Repeat.  I should thank my lucky stars it isn’t snow.  This kind of precipitation as snow would shut down whole cities.

I received a candy bar yesterday from a young man waiting at a park and ride who read the MOMM poster on my rig as I passed by and caught up to me to make the offer.  It was a very spontaneous and unselfish act.  We are taught and generally agree that humanity is capable of both good and evil and that the possibility of punishment deters most evil but why does it seem that most of humanity seems selfishly indifferent when it comes to doing good and forgoes the inherent reward?  I will ponder this problem as I splash through the puddles on my way to Palo Alto.

DAY 109:  NOVEMBER 18, 2011.  Downtown San Francisco.

When it decides to rain in San Francisco, it is like a tsunami.  I was soaked to the bone walking maybe 10 blocks back to the Hostel from my appointment with a gentleman from the San Francisco Homeless Coalition.  His meeting ran way late and when he was finally available he had multiple fires to put out and graciously gave me a few minutes of his time.  I had one question for this man who has spent many years working day in and day out as an advocate for the homeless people in San Francisco, “What does he believe will end homelessness?”  His answer, short and sweet was, “Housing” and he went on to explain that government funding for public housing since the 80’s has plummeted and the private sector has raised the cost of rent to the roof and beyond making affordable housing unreachable for the working poor.  American capitalism reigns supreme.  Also had the fortune to chat with a young woman who lived in community and worked at the “Hippie Kitchen” in L.A.  She is going to be visiting the people who run the “Hippie Kitchen” and will take them my card and let them know I am on my way there.  San Francisco is huge and the homeless problem is as well but they also have a lot of great people and organizations working for change.  I would be remiss if I didn’t also say thanks to one of my roommates at the local Hostel where I stayed, an 87 year old kindred spirit who shared many great stories and his life wisdom.  Thank you Arthur.  I am heading out for San Jose today and hope to find and stay at some Catholic Worker facilities along the way.  GO GRIZ, BEAT THE CATS!!!