The danger of living in a tent

While Sue was having her colonoscopy today, I sat by this window and saw someone's home go up in flames. Before she went in, she made a photo with her phone, appreciating all the activity on roads and tracks outside the hospital window, and in her photo, a big tent is peacefully ensconced under the tree that is filled with black smoke in my photo. A little further to the left in my photo, there's another tent, fortunately not burning. 

It is obscene that hundreds of thousands of Americans are living in tents, cars, and doorways, while billionaires hoard money and cut services for the poor. Fortunately the person or persons who lived in the tent that caught fire escaped with their lives, but they lost everything they owned.

Her colonoscopy over, Sue will not ever have to suffer through another one. Nor will I. Hooray for that. Hooray for us that we are old enough to qualify for medicare, and I was able to move into subsidized housing eleven years ago, before the number of houseless people expanded as it has now.  A new neighbor just moved into my building this week. I asked her how long she was on the waiting list. Three years. 

I watched from this distance, grieving for the person who was losing everything they had, grieving for all the people who are houseless in this supposedly wealthy country. Wealthy for the few.