Johnny’s Story

I was driving through Chicago a month ago when my parents and I pulled into a parking lot. There, we saw a man clad in a dark blue shirt, long baggy jeans, and a baseball cap, sitting in the corner on a plastic milk crate. When he said good afternoon to us, in the voice of a man who still had hope, we sat down with him and introduced ourselves.

His name was Johnny Lloyd, and he had been homeless for 4 years. He was holding a sign that said, “homeless, in need of a prayer.” We spoke with Johnny about his life story and experiences on the streets. His story stemmed from a long history of abuse and depression; His father was heavily abusive when he was a child, and his high-school sweetheart had passed in 2017 on the delivery table, his mother the year after. At this point in our conversation, I could see the tears begin to well up in his eyes. We started talking about his experiences on the streets, and Johnny mentioned that his identification and belongings had all been stolen while he was away from his tent during the day. When we asked him about the resources the city offered him, he mentioned his reluctance to stay at a city-run shelter, mentioning bed bugs and overpopulation. He also mentioned the dehumanizing treatment the people of the city of Chicago have given him and others in similar circumstances. He cited people automatically assuming him to be a drug addict, not responding when he simply says hello, or dragging their kids off the sidewalk and into the street to actively get as physically far away from him as possible. Johnny’s story seems to parallel that of many unhoused people. Many conversations with the unhoused seem to produce the same notions of feeling invisible, unwanted, and unloved, and this is a major issue that often goes overlooked in the pursuit of a solution to the nationwide crisis of homelessness.