Mariella Gattini

A young man died two days ago. Or maybe he had passed away days before. The thing is, they found him unresponsive inside of his car right there in front of my apartment window in Los Angeles, California. I realized he wasn’t alive when I saw the coroner’s van coming.

He had a cat. After putting his body inside the van, it took them around an hour to get the kitty cat out alive, because the car was packed with things, among them four duffle bags they had to take out to have access to it. It was a beautiful black cat with yellow eyes, maybe six years old, that they put inside a crate. In the car there was a litter box, too.

You didn’t know because it wasn’t in the news, but I saw it with my own eyes. My heart broke. Particularly when I saw the young man’s bare, dirty, white feet, his extremely red calves, cargo pants, and yellowish forearms and hands. That’s all I could see of him from the fourth floor.

A young lady was there to process the entire thing. His wallet contained an identity card, another credit or debit card, and a few dollar bills. I don’t want to pass judgement of any sort. This is not about that. This is about him and his last minutes in the little territory of him that was his car, which couldn’t protect him anymore.

I want to scream at the top of my lungs, but this is not about me and the way I feel either, although I feel awful.

In every corner, underpass, around buildings, and rivers I see them. They come here because this is supposed to be a good neighborhood, so it gives them some peace of mind. I can only imagine.

Most people don’t see them, or if they do, they judge them or simply ignore them. The ones trying to survive with their own little resources have to because they can’t take anymore burden on their shoulders.

According to an article (dated April 23^rd, 2019) in U.S. News and World Report, based on an analysis made by Kaiser Health News, 918 homeless people died last year in Los Angeles County alone. 4 in 5 were men. The coroner has reported 3,612 deaths of homeless people between 2014 and 2018 in the same county. The article also states that people who live outside age more rapidly, exposed to every kind of disease, infection, and violence.

As you see this is not an isolated incident. They are the ones at the bottom of the trickled down, speculative housing market.

Even people with good jobs and good salaries can’t really afford a decent house or apartment around here. The ones who want to have a family make the sacrifice and get into debt to only buy places that are dubiously remodeled, or are falling apart, because it’s all they can afford. So they live to put the place up, and every dollar goes only to their survival from then on. The ones who don’t want to sacrifice their salaries, and are in a relationship, have to postpone having children, or they have to put them out of their minds altogether. In any case, they have to adapt to small, low quality apartments with a steep rent cost, that, in the majority of cases, goes up every year.

The well-to-do minority in Los Angeles and its surroundings is closed off to the reality of others. Physically, I mean. Out of sight, out of mind.

Homelessness in Los Angeles is not just a tragedy anymore, it’s a palpitating, urgent case of public health. Every minute counts. They are not just numbers, they are human beings who deserve a better life.

The green car had been parked for who knows how long in front my apartment building. A neighbor, walking her dog, spotted the young man in the car and called 911. I immediately passed judgement on her, thinking: Another “concerned citizen” meddling in the business of others. I was wrong, I misjudged her. The paramedics came immediately, but they couldn’t do anything. It was too late. The police arrived a minute later, and after them the young lady in charge of the entire process appeared. I couldn’t stop looking, I waited until they took the kitty cat away and the tow truck took the car with it. Everyone involved was courteous with one another, and gave the lifeless young man’s body the most respectful and humane treatment possible. It took them around an hour to get the kitty cat out because it was obvious they didn’t want to harm it. Everyone helped in its rescue, the young lady, one of the policemen, and the guy who finally took the kitty with him in a crate.

Since then, other cars have parked on his spot during the day, unaware of the tragedy occurred. At night, his spot is mostly empty and there is only silence, as if we all used these pockets of silence to pay our collective and tacit respects for the departed.

This town is not for the unprepared. Don’t believe the irresponsible fiction and non fiction you read, listen to, or watch. This is a tough environment, having the courage to come here is not enough. If you decide to come anyway, you need a support system of some sort, a plan, and a job! Even with all that, this still is a tough place to live, especially because you are witness to such income disparity that breaks your heart.

Be aware. Even if you feel you can not do anything for the ones hurting right now, awareness is very important—it’s what makes us human beings.

Inside the gated apartment building complex where I live, there is a swimming pool, a gym, and different indoor and outdoor spaces where you can socialize. Once a week a different food truck has permission to get in to offer all kinds of exotic foods. There are many luxury cars, different nationalities, and a majority of young-adult residents.

Outside, on the street, a young man died two days ago, or maybe he had passed away days before. The thing is, they found him unresponsive inside his packed green car, with four duffle bags, a wallet with a few dollar bills in it, and a live black kitty cat. Homeless.

UPDATE (June 6, 2019): On NBC4 at 6 from Los Angeles, in a section called Streets of Shame, they stated that only 30% of the homeless population suffer from mental illness or drug addiction. A black young man said that he has two degrees, but can't get a job. In another occasion this week, they said that there is the will and the money to build housing for them, but the neighbors don't want them around.

UPDATE (March 15, 2021): British musician Holly Humberstone in her recent single Falling Asleep at the Wheel illustrates very well the content of this piece.