Faced with an eviction notice from the city of Fayetteville, a homeless couple from Michigan are trying to decide where to go next.
Rick and Bernice, who asked not to use their last name, said they are from a small town just north of Flint, Michigan.
They have been camped out on state-owned right-of-way next to the on-off ramp on southbound Gillespie Street and Martin Luther King Jr. Freeway. Until recently, state right-of-way property has offered a haven for homeless people to set up encampments because the North Carolina Department of Transportation had not given the city the authority to remove them from that property. That recently changed.
Rick and Bernice — who goes by Bernie — are among dozens of people who are homeless in Fayetteville. Rick, 64, and Bernie, 58, used to own a business that customized cars and trucks. But like many others in the Rust Belt, the business eventually faltered, and Rick retired, he said.
The couple moved in with their daughter because their manufactured home was in bad shape and could not be repaired. But when their grandson wanted his bedroom back in their daughter’s home, she asked her parents to leave.
“They knew we’d be homeless,” Rick said.
Rick and Bernie — along with their 17-year-old, toothless but feisty rescue Chihuahua named Coco — piled into their older compact SUV and drove to North Carolina.
“I have a friend in Calabash that we wanted to visit,” Rick said.
When they were preparing to go back to Michigan, Rick said he and his wife looked at each other and decided to stay in North Carolina.
According to Rick, his daughter is aware that they are here and without a home, but they have not told her that they are living in a tent off a busy road. Rick said if his daughter is interested in learning more, she can easily reach them by email or mobile phone.
‘Must be removed’
When asked if the state has granted the city the authority over its rights-of-way, city spokesman Loren Bymer responded by email.
“N.C. DOT and the city of Fayetteville are working together in a couple of areas of the city to ensure we provide a safe environment for residents and those staying in the camps,” Bymer said in the email. “This includes transitional housing for those in the camps and teams to clean the area for environmental safety.”
In short, that means the state has given the go-ahead. Just before noon on April 24, city officials placed a notice at the campground saying it is an illegal campsite that would be cleared after 72 hours.
“All shelters, bed-down locations, and personal property located at this illegal campsite must be removed,” the sign reads.
Rick and Bernie first lived in a room off Gillespie Street, he said, but they wanted out. Someone checked to see if there was room at one of the campsites at Gillespie Street and the MLK overpass, which is on DOT property.
They have been living in a two-sheltered setup: an enclosed tent for sleeping and privacy, and a day shelter with two lawn chairs and a table. It’s easy to find their space. The tent has a U.S. flag fluttering in the front, and he tacked a large NASCAR flag at the back wall of the lean-to shelter.
Asked if he needs anything, Rick hesitated.
“I’ve got everything I need. We just want to live a simple life,” he said.
Bernie nodded in agreement.
A moment later, Rick added: “Ice. We could use some ice. Other than that, we’re fine.”
As a veteran, Rick has access to benefits, and he also knows where to get food stamps.
Coping with ‘tent life’
Josh is Rick and Bernie’s neighbor at the homeless camp. He says he has tried to apply for services but was told he doesn’t qualify. Josh also preferred to use only his first name.
Slender and soft-spoken, though articulate, Josh appears to be in his late 20s. He has a braided ponytail, and a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm chronicles his life. He says he works long hours at construction jobs when they are available.
After his release from prison, Josh says he came to Fayetteville when his mother died here. Josh says he is on probation and on the state sex-offender registry, two issues that affect where he can live. He says he had to move once because he was living near an area that is off-limits to him.
Josh did not provide details about the crimes that put him on the registry.
Despite his young appearance among more than a dozen faces at the camp, Josh and his girlfriend, Nikki, appear to be caretakers of the camp. He and Nikki set up a communal kitchen and food pantry.
Josh is adept at “tent life,” as Nikki put it. He recently upgraded to a larger tent for better protection from rain. They said it has all the amenities he needs: a chair, bed, shower, fan, heater, and electronic equipment. Power comes from vehicle batteries.
Josh said he learned his survival skills from camping in the mountains as a boy.
Josh said the group has plenty of food, either self-provided or donated. He could use a water repellent, a large container with a spray applicator for both himself and others in the camp. Long exposure to the weather degrades the tent material and it becomes less water-resistant.
Drainage at the campsite is not adequate. After heavy rains over the Easter weekend, he woke up to an inch of water in his previous shelter. His neighbor, he said, had over 2 inches.
He is also concerned about the single portable toilet provided by the city, along with a rollout garbage container. Josh said the camp includes women who must use the same facility as men. The portable toilet is unclean and sometimes littered with used hypodermic needles. Multiple campers in the area use the toilet.
Josh said he knows that any day, the city could move them off the state-owned land. Looking across the street, he pointed to an unoccupied piece of commercial property.
“That would be a good place. It’s not being used for anything,” he said.
He says the camp is not harming anyone, and the people there — for whatever reason — have no other choice. He scoffed at the Cumberland County ordinance that allows an up to $150 fine for violating a similar camping ordinance.
“Where's a homeless guy going to get $150?” he asked.
He suggested that this story encourage officials to leave the campers alone. He fears that any notoriety will bring unwanted attention to the camp.
Already, people driving by, day or night, honk their car horns or scream obscenities, he said. Worse are the truckers who blare their horns late at night.
And sometimes, even the drivers of law enforcement vehicles will pass by and activate their sirens.
“I have nowhere else to go,” he said. “I don’t have a choice.”
