Homeless People

A theatrical performance devoted to the experiences of the homeless - acted out by homeless people themselves - sounds like it could be a very grim portrayal. But within the daily lives of the homeless are moments of fierce anger and biting humor - emotions brought out by the Los Angeles Poverty Department, a troupe of homeless people who create theater out of their own lives. The LAPD is appearing at the Painted Bride Arts Center tomorrow at 8 p.m. as part of a weekend conference on "The Arts of Social Change.

North Broad Street could hardly have been less inviting yesterday afternoon: overcast, just above freezing, and wind gusts that set street signs clattering against utility poles. Perfect for organizers of the third annual Project Homeless Connect, a one-stop outreach program where homeless people could drop by and get warm food, a haircut, and a chance to meet an assembly of social service, housing and treatment agencies. The weather - a taste of what's to come for people who live on the streets - undoubtedly helped persuade many of the hundreds who crowded into the gymnasium behind the Salvation Army headquarters at Broad Street and Fairmount Avenue between noon and 5 p.m. By about 3 p.m., roughly 320 homeless people had visited the program, said David Zega, an aide to Dainette M. Mintz, director of the city's main homeless agency, the Office of Supportive Housing.

Jerome Fleming is not a soccer mom or a NASCAR dad or a Reagan Democrat. But the 40-year-old comes from a group that some advocates say could be as crucial to this year's election as any of the poll-tested demographics hyped by political pros: Philadelphia's homeless population. Fleming, who said he has been sleeping on the streets, filled out a voter-registration form yesterday as part of a campaign designed to sign up shelter residents, soup-kitchen visitors, and health-center consumers ahead of November's closely fought election.

Using ham and turkey sandwiches and razors and soap as incentives, social-service workers in New Jersey yesterday conducted the first statewide census of the homeless, a population estimated to be 20,000. More than 750 surveyors - social-service employees, politicians, and homeless people themselves - endured 10-degree weather as they searched shelters and soup kitchens, scanned the streets, and peered into abandoned buildings in 20 of New Jersey's 21 counties. Only Hunterdon County, one of the nation's wealthiest, did not participate.

You can't always tell who among the 3,000 daily patrons of the Free Library of Philadelphia's main branch lives in a home or on a park bench. Dress is not always a giveaway; nor is demeanor. But in the restrooms of the library, too often, you could tell. Homeless people sometimes used the bathrooms to bathe. Or to wash their socks. Or just to rest for a spell. The library reached out to Project HOME, a nonprofit agency that works with homeless individuals and families, about what to do. Brainstorming led to an innovative idea: Why not hire formerly homeless people as restroom attendants?

Police Officer Stacey LaMondue got to use her new skills the very first time she was summoned to a scene of a public disturbance. The Memphis, Tenn., officer had received intensive training in handling mentally ill people. She recognized that a man causing the disturbance was ill. She stopped fellow officers who wanted to cart the man to jail and took him to his home instead. Today, she still stops by his house, has gotten to know his family - and considers him a client in need of mental health services, not a criminal.

There's another group of people that may join the Disenchanted Voters' Club this year. It's not made up of moral Democrats mad at Bill Clinton or moderate Republicans morose over the domestic policies of George Bush. And though Ross Perot is popular among angry voters, this group doesn't much identify with billionaires. The potential new bloc on the block is the homeless. At least that's the dream of two national homeless-advocacy groups that took to the streets of Philadelphia and other cities yesterday in the nation's first coast-to-coast drive to register homeless people to vote.

Five of the six major candidates for mayor promised yesterday that the homeless would not be rousted from city streets to pretty up Philadelphia for next year's Republican National Convention. Speaking to 300 to 400 advocates for the homeless and their supporters, Democrat Marty Weinberg said that "every single individual's rights will be protected" during the GOP convention. "The Constitution protects all citizens from the kind of things you're talking about," he added. Sam Katz, the lone Republican, said that a controversial sidewalk-behavior ordinance passed in June should not be used as "a license to harass people.

Within a few blocks of the State Office Building where homeless activists camped out in protest this week, a nonprofit organization has plans to build a 48-bed, YMCA-style residence for single adults trying to put their lives back together. The project represents real progress, while the homeless protesters' hope of greater government assistance is still a dream. The residence will be one of the new breed of low-rent hotels known as SROs, or single-room-occupancy. Its residents will pay what they can afford for the subsidized rooms, and in return they'll receive intensive social services to help them overcome personal problems, find employment and achieve their potential, however modest that may be. Philadelphia desperately needs facilities like this one, which will be developed by Project HOME, an organization founded by the widely respected homeless advocate Sister Mary Scullion.

Jerome put a lot of work into his new home, so he was kind of upset when he was awakened one recent morning by the noise of construction workers. They were bricking up his windows. But Jerome didn't protest or ask any questions. He didn't even take the time to pack up his books and art work, and forget about the furniture. He just walked out the door, not long before that got bricked up too. Jerome, homeless for eight years, was forced to leave his abandominium at 13th and Decatur Streets.