Shelter Soon May Find Itself Homeless Also

Amos Beck is a self-proclaimed down-and-outer.

He is “62, goin’ on 82,” an unemployed meat cutter looking hopefully to a retirement check and a chance to renew his self-esteem.

“I could never understand how a person could be homeless,” he said, “until I became homeless, too. Everybody thinks it can’t happen to them, but . . . “

He offered a snaggletoothed smile and finished the thought:

“But they’re wrong .”

Trouble of Their Own Making

Beck is one of 25 men between the ages of 18 and 82 receiving food, shelter and spiritual counseling from Emmanuel Church Homes, at 36th Street and Ocean View Boulevard in graffiti-scarred Southeast San Diego.

Emmanuel Church Homes is one of many small, private missions aiding the homeless in San Diego, and, like dozens of such homes, it’s in trouble--most of which, its leaders concede, is entirely of their making.

Home Federal, which holds one of three trust deeds to the property, is threatening to foreclose. The lot at 3583 Ocean View Blvd. will be sold at auction Feb. 14 unless Sharon Langley, owner of the property and founder of the home, raises $43,000, the amount owed to Home Federal.

“I’m not a businesswoman,” Langley said with a wry smile. “I’m a Christian.”

Frank Landerville, project director for the Regional Task Force on the Homeless, conceded Wednesday that Emmanuel Church Homes, like scores of small missions, provides a valuable social service: It keeps people off the streets. And, in San Diego, where the number of homeless now exceeds 6,000, such help is hardly unwelcome.

He pointed out, however, that many such homes are beset with problems that in some ways compound the tragedy of being homeless when tenants are then exiled to the streets. Landerville said he had received complaints from residents in the area that men living at Emmanuel frequently knock on doors, soliciting funds. He has heard that some of the men who collect donations for the home skip town, never returning to Langley’s home, leaving the coffers even further in arrears. And, he said, city officials harbor fears about such homes, because so many violate health and safety regulations.

Emmanuel Church Homes receives no funding from any agency. Its money comes from private donations, most of which are collected in buckets by Emmanuel residents every day of the week.

What would be the loss if such a place closed?

Landerville sighed and said: “It’s hard to quantify the toll such a loss would mean. The cold, hard truth is we would have 20 to 30 more people on the street. And there’s no way to get around that.”

Elizabeth Harris is manager of collections for Home Federal. She said the bank doesn’t welcome the prospect of shutting down a social-service agency, but noted that, to her surprise, the owners of Emmanuel Church Homes had not followed customary procedures in seeking to extend the date of foreclosure.

“They haven’t even presented us with a plea for forebearance,” she said. “In other words, they have not come in and said, ‘This is a service we’re providing, so please give us a little more time to get our money in order.’ That’s one step they could take. They haven’t done that.”

Harris said the home is delinquent on several monthly payments “and, in the meantime, has passed its all-due-and-payable date of Aug. 27.” She said it’s also delinquent on property taxes dating from 1985.

New Source Unlikely

In the meantime, Marathon Home Loans, the holder of the second and third trust deeds, recently declared bankruptcy. Harris said Marathon is using the money owed by Emmanuel as assets in the bankruptcy case, making it almost impossible for Emmanuel to secure a new source of financing for the second and third trust deeds.

Langley only looked perplexed when told about the plea for forebearance and said several times, “The Lord will take care of it.”

Langley, a large, matronly woman who describes herself as a recovering alcoholic and refugee of Chicago’s Skid Row, candidly acknowledges that, among the gifts God gave her, finance wasn’t one of them. Her bookkeeping is handled by Roger Moog, a once-homeless drifter who has lived at Emmanuel for eight years.

Langley said it costs $10,000 a month to run the home, but it’s hard to imagine where such money goes. The property consists of a small chapel, filled at the moment with stuffed animals earmarked for an orphanage in Tijuana; a primitive kitchen where Amos Beck, the cook, was dishing out chili on a recent misty evening, and the living quarters, which accommodate as many as 10 men to a bedroom--six in the room itself, four in the closet. The men sleep on stiff, prison-like beds.

Moog, the bookkeeper, grew up in the Bronx but never had the benefit of a mother or father. He was raised by relatives until he entered boarding school, which he left at 16 “to see the world.” He caught on with a Norwegian merchant ship and sailed to North Africa, India and other points before joining the Air Force for a two-year hitch. After that, life rapidly unraveled. Moog said the highlight of his 44 years was when the Norwegian ship landed--mistakenly--in an area controlled by China.

Land of Opportunity

He came to San Diego, having heard it was a land of opportunity. He could never make it work, he said, until he entered Emmanuel, which became his de facto home. At his age, Moog worries about “the rest of life.” Such fears are heightened, he said, not knowing what the future will bring if the home closes down.

Michael McCaskill, 28, came to San Diego from Memphis, Tenn., only two weeks ago. He wants any job he can find at this point, but, until he lands one, he said he can’t find a better place to eat, sleep and pray than Emmanuel Church Homes.

“It’s pretty dangerous out there on them mean streets for a homeless dude,” he said. “In a lot of ways, this is just a crazy, mixed-up town, nothin’ like what I thought it’d be. A lot of corners on them streets are rough places, man. And a lot of these so-called shelters have 75, 100 people standin’ in line, and they’re all arguin’. This is more like a family here. Under the circumstances, which are pretty lousy, you can’t beat it.”

McCaskill said Emmanuel has at least given him the feeling that he can reclaim self-esteem, “even if it’s all just a crazy notion.”

As for Amos Beck, he said he owes his life to the place.

Beck got laid off from a meat cutter’s job in his native Texas because he “got too old” and couldn’t keep up with younger, more aggressive co-workers, even though he had worked for the company 31 years.

Picking Oranges in Yuma

He ended up in Yuma, Ariz., picking oranges, and soon grew seriously ill. He said he peeled away to 105 pounds. In November, 1986, feeling a bit better, he hitchhiked to San Diego and, after a few days of misery, ended up at Emmanuel.

“When I came here, I was nothin’ but skin and bones,” he said.

“Amos, dear, you looked like death warmed over,” said Sharon Langley, who had joined her residents for the evening meal of chili and corn bread. “ ‘Course, my prayers were in there for you, Amos. You had the Lord watchin’ out for you.”

Come Feb. 3, Beck said, he’ll begin receiving a retirement check of $468 a month. He may return to Texas, although his feelings about the Lone Star State--and the people he left behind--are sadly mixed.

Beck said Emmanuel has helped restore his self-esteem. He said he’s a man “with a lot of pride,” which homelessness had battered in the way a typhoon batters a sail. He has a son who runs a furniture business near Dallas. He said the son earns about $115,000 a year and had offered to take care of his dad, to no avail.

“I don’t want any of my children to say, ‘I helped Dad out,’ ” Beck said with a bittersweet smile. “I’m happy they’re doing good. But I don’t need their help. I take pride in knowing I helped them get where they are.”

Langley, the owner of this home, which opened in 1974, claims not to worry about fate, saying the Lord will take care of things, as He always has.

“Absolutely,” she said. “I have one leader: God Almighty. When the time comes, He will know what to do, and then we’ll all have to listen.”