Raymond Caldwell

Raymond Caldwell, 58, was born in New Zealand. His nine sisters and four brothers were all born there as well, and some have moved back there. But when he was four, the family moved to Arkansas. They put down roots, fit right into the community. It was a good childhood, he said, until he was 18. Both his parents died that year of lung cancer. They were heavy smokers.

He thinks about them every day, he said. “My mom, she was my heart. I was so depressed when she died, I started getting into fights.” In fact he got into so many fights he lost a few teeth. Since he couldn’t afford getting false teeth, he decided to have them all pulled. Unfortunately think he’s a crack addict because he has no teeth. But that doesn’t stop him from smiling anyway.

The siblings put their energy and resources together to keep a roof over their collective heads, and neighbors helped them find work that would sustain them. Caldwell was working as a cashier in a grocery store in neighboring Louisiana, it was good work, but he was bored. So when a friend said she was moving to San Diego, he tagged along. At first he stayed in an SRO hotel downtown. But he ended up in a fight with another tenant and they were both thrown out. Thus began his on again off again relationship with San Diego’s streets.

In 1981 Caldwell quit smoking for fear he would end up getting cancer like his parents. He has some disabilities, which keep employers from giving him a chance at a real job. Nevertheless, the soft-spoken full-bodied Caldwell smiles at people who make eye contact with him, and offers his seat to the ladies balancing trays of food at a church meal for the homeless. Caldwell said he isn’t on a housing list because he doesn’t know how to sign up. He stays with a friend from time to time, and when he gets his monthly SSI check, he uses it for food and staying indoors at a downtown hotel. When he has access to a refrigerator he can save up extra soup and bread and fruit from church meals so he doesn't have to live on fast food from 7-11. “One day at a time,” he said. “That’s all I can do.”