Dear SafeGround Friends,

I've been privileged to be appointed by the Loaves and Fishes Board of Directors and Sr. Libby Fernandez to be a liaison to SafeGround since July 1st, 2009.

The emphasis of my work has been three fold:

1. To help our Director, Steve Watters by focusing on the life of the SafeGround Camp. My main responsibility is to serve both the elders (elected by campers for month long terms) and individual campers in ways that make their life easier and promote a sense of safety and harmony.
2. To help communicate the needs and the reality of the SafeGround camp to its friends and supporters on the SafeGround Steering Committee and the Board of Directors, especially Loaves and Fishes, so that SafeGround can achieve its two goals: a) be able to use a piece of land to build a model transitional village (no tents!) and b) rescind the Sacramento anti camping ordinance which criminalizes homelessness.
3. To coordinate and grow a list of midtown churches willing to open their doors, their minds and their hearts to us for respite nights away from the outdoors in order to relieve SafeGround from the constant threat of harassment and the threat of bad weather.

The part of this calling that gives me the most pleasure and meaning has been the relationships I have been privileged to develop with SafeGrounders and the relationships that I have seen develop between SafeGrounders and the people in the churches who have opened their doors to us.

Including yourselves, our friends and supporters, there is no finer group of people on God's green earth than SafeGrounders and the laypeople serving them in the churches who have little or no resources of their own yet are working so diligently and faithfully with what they have and who they are to build a healing SafeGround community. By their efforts they are also building a better world not only for themselves but also for this ailing society of ours. They are a part of the living heart of love and compassion that makes our country great.

Every day of its existence since its inception on July1, 2009, the people of SafeGround, in each day, day after day, have built and are building a safe, clean, welcoming and self governing community that is one of the most culturally, racially, and ethnically diverse group of Americans (and I include our newly arrived latino brothers and sisters here too) that I have ever seen!

I am privileged to serve them as they strive for their dream, part of the American dream,  of a little village of modest transitional homes in a place they can someday call their own "Safe Ground."

David Leeper Moss

The hardest part about being homeless in America is accepting that one has not had success in this country - a country known for its success stories. Accepting the impermanence of having to move every morning. Not having a home and not being somewhere for awhile. Just the acceptance of feeling like a loser, a weakling. Whether it's true or not, this is how you're made to feel when you are homeless. We are cast aside. Fear makes people do that.

You're just minding your own business and here come the rangers again, forcing you to move. Then it rains and your little home is flooded.

In the first grade, at the age of 6, I was beaten severely by my teacher. I made up my mind that I would no longer go to school. I wandered in the woods for 3 months, and as long as I came home on time no one discovered this. I spent a lot of time as a child at my grandparents' house. I didn't exist. I was invisible to everyone. One thing I remember my grandfather used to say, "it's not the clothes the man is wearing, it's the man who's wearing them."

I've always been a little depressed. I didn't have the best coping skills. Before I became homeless, my sister warned me that it would happen if I wasn't careful, but I didn't want to think about it at the time - I became indifferent and allowed it to happen. I knew it was going to happen. I felt a combination of depression and apathy.

Once it happened, though, I thought I was going to die. I thought I would literally cease to be. I had episodes where I couldn't speak, and went through a stroke. I discovered I was all alone. My family members didn't care for me that much. They said, "Good luck." I shut down emotionally. You go into shock. I was dealing with my mother's illness and her passing away, trying to help, the grief, anger, and denial. The house I had grown up in was up for grabs. My personal property went to relatives. I didn't have any children. I'm the odd-ball, free spirit.

When I left, I had only a few friends left and was extremely isolated No one was hiring, everyone was paranoid and fearful. I worked for the Salvation Army ringing the bell at Christmas time, and made enough money to come out here. The idea of being homeless there and freezing - I thought, "If I'm going to be homeless, I have to get out of town." I knew I wouldn't freeze to death if I could at least come here where it's warmer.

I thought it was the end of the world when I came to Sacramento. I was uncertain what the next day would bring. I had one bicycle and three backpacks. I got off the train at 2:30 a.m. It was a foggy morning when I got here. I didn't have a plan. I jumped on the trainand went to San Francisco to meet a friend. That didn't work out, so I got a place at the mission, and finally came to Loaves and Fishes.

David Moss was so kind to me. He had gone to school where I'm from. David was so patient and sincere. Talking to him was like crawling onto a lifeboat after feeling as though I was going to drown. It didn't matter who I was - he was loving toward everyone. I had lost everything and had suffered so much psychic hurt - I think with my heart more than I do with my head - and I really needed someone to show me kindness.

At Safe Ground I met Sister Libby, Cat, Cowboy Bill, and a lady named Bernice Roberts. She was dark-skinned, wore a long black cape, and reminded me of my mother when she would sing. She was murdered by a man who said he did it because he knew he could. She didn't want to sleep out in the woods because she said that when she died she wanted to be found. She was so full of spirit. It makes me sad, but what I've learned is to discard what is hopeless and gather what is hopeful. All my contemporaries are dead: suicide, AIDS, murder. My partner was killed by a drunk driver. I've lasted this long. I now have peace of mind and faith. Life is an adventure. I have been given a second chance.

The greater lesson is that financial ruin is not so bad. I realize that life goes on. Being homeless hasn't been the end of the world. I'm not dead - I'm alive. I have courage to face what lies ahead. I have a new job opportunity - the possibility of a house manager position. I'm over the horrible depression I had when I first came here. I realize I'm worth having a better life, a hopeful life. Safe Ground got me out of my shell. Who would have an idea like Safe Ground and Loaves & Fishes? It's a beautiful thing. My depression is gone. I have friends. I am happy.

(Tim has since found housing and employment as a house monitor.)