I was raised by a single parent, my mother, in Brooklyn. I went to school, got married, had children. Now, I’m homeless. I was injured on my job for the post office. I fell on the concrete floor and broke my knee; I was denied my claim for workmen’s compensation. That’s why I’m here. I couldn’t afford to pay my rent. I am up for surgery. If the surgery comes out ok I can work again, get back up on my feet and get my own place.

I’m 56. My children are grown up, in Georgia and North Carolina. We talk once in a while.

This isn’t the best place to be. I have no place to go to. You have to live somewhere. You can’t live on the streets. It’s very rough, so I advise people; try get yourself together, get on your own. A shelter’s not a good life.