Apr 02 2006

Sweet Home Alabama – reprise

Posted by J. Craig Canada in Alabama, Homeless

I had a good day today. It began with a small kindness which meant a great deal.

I woke up to find someone offering me some of their cannabis. And a wish of good luck. Quite a contrast to the hatefest I’ve encountered on the online forums.

And the fact is, if I hadn’t sold the land to my uncle, the government probably would have gotten it somewhere along the way, or lawyers. And that was the major reason I sold it to uncle Pat in the first place.

Of course, my treatment by uncle Taylor and uncle Bob didn’t help. Uncle Bob carted off my father’s desk and papers before I ever had a chance to go through his accounts and satisfy myself as to how much he actually had – or didn’t have.

And the fact is, I was truly surprised my father left me anything. I expected to learn of his death when the creditors came calling.

If I’d known I was to inherit the land, I probably would have lived my life differently, or at least thought about what to do with it and how to hold on to it – something I never really had a chance to do.

If he’d died only a few months earlier, I probably would never have been arrested and convicted of the felonies. Seems my life has been one long series of bad timings.

The friendliness of the people on the streets of Santa Cruz is a stark contrast to the abuse and derision I continue to receive in the Sentinel’s online forum. I’m amazed Valerie Corral accomplished anything at all in this town, and would love to know how she did it.

I’ve spent considerable time thinking about the previous blog entry, but the fact is everything I wrote is true. And there was a lot more I didn’t mention.

Today is the 2nd anniversary of the dismissal of the felony cultivation charges from Morongo Valley. I suppose I still have time to file a civil suit against Bonita, and perhaps I can still file a civil suit against San Bernardino County. I don’t know. I haven’t had time to research it. It’s pretty difficult to do that living out of a 3′ x 3′ locker and sleeping on a sidewalk.

People tell me, the homeless tell me, this is one of the best places in the country to be homeless. They tell me it’s much worse most anywhere else. I don’t know. I’ve never been homeless – not like this, and certainly not this long, a year now with no end in sight.

And I’ve never thought much about the homeless. I can remember walking through Golden Gate Park in San Francisco and stumbling across a homeless camp, and even being yelled at by some bundle of rags screaming, “This is my home”. I can remember wondering how anyone could live like that – and sink that low.

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