CTRL+ALT+DEL: My Life & Being Homeless
Donation protected
Trouble was already brewing, but then Papa died...
My grandfather passed away very suddenly. My mother and myself were blindsided, in a way, because it was almost like it wasn't real. We had the funeral and it was lovely. Then came the task of dealing with his 'estate' - a 2 bedroom apartment that had been used by my Gramma and Papa when they were alive. My mother also had an 'estate' within the same apartment complex which lived and shared for eleven years. No sooner than my Papa was in the ground did the management evict a dead man. They had to because we were taking too long to pack up the house. Or something... They were mad. They liked my Papa but us? Ha...
Fast forward and it's time to renew the lease. We'd planned to move, pending finding a place, but weren't so lucky. My mother, a disabled woman of 51 who was also on Section 8, asked to pay for an extra month's rent to cover the time it took to move. Management refused the payment. They also filed an eviction notice which would cause my mom to lose her Section 8 voucher. They came. They put everything my mother had into thick garbage bags and they moved us out. Fifty-two years worth of stuff was strewn about the front lot. We loaded what we could into a uhaul, 70% of the things we couldn't get. When we left for the evening, everyone, including management, swarmed in and took whatever they could find. The rest? They threw it away. In Alabama you have 48 hours to get your property. Management felt like 27 was good enough.
We moved into a hotel and in this one room my mom and I have stayed for the past 7 months. My car broke down (and then was stolen) so I ride the bus. I don't mind it but my job, even though I've given them 6 years of my life, decided they can only give me 20 hours a week because I ride the bus. We don't have much of anything left.
My grandfather passed away very suddenly. My mother and myself were blindsided, in a way, because it was almost like it wasn't real. We had the funeral and it was lovely. Then came the task of dealing with his 'estate' - a 2 bedroom apartment that had been used by my Gramma and Papa when they were alive. My mother also had an 'estate' within the same apartment complex which lived and shared for eleven years. No sooner than my Papa was in the ground did the management evict a dead man. They had to because we were taking too long to pack up the house. Or something... They were mad. They liked my Papa but us? Ha...
Fast forward and it's time to renew the lease. We'd planned to move, pending finding a place, but weren't so lucky. My mother, a disabled woman of 51 who was also on Section 8, asked to pay for an extra month's rent to cover the time it took to move. Management refused the payment. They also filed an eviction notice which would cause my mom to lose her Section 8 voucher. They came. They put everything my mother had into thick garbage bags and they moved us out. Fifty-two years worth of stuff was strewn about the front lot. We loaded what we could into a uhaul, 70% of the things we couldn't get. When we left for the evening, everyone, including management, swarmed in and took whatever they could find. The rest? They threw it away. In Alabama you have 48 hours to get your property. Management felt like 27 was good enough.
We moved into a hotel and in this one room my mom and I have stayed for the past 7 months. My car broke down (and then was stolen) so I ride the bus. I don't mind it but my job, even though I've given them 6 years of my life, decided they can only give me 20 hours a week because I ride the bus. We don't have much of anything left.
Organiser
Velveteen Clarke
Organiser
Birmingham, AL
