Emmy McLarty, 54, a cheerful redhead who builds websites for a living, went through most of the life-changing events that analysts say can lead to great depression, in the same year. First the father-in-law suffering from Parkinson’s she’d cared for for seven years died. Three months later she and her husband were both laid off their jobs. And when they decided to sell their house and move, her mother died of lung cancer. Her brothers didn’t include her in much of the end-of-life decisions, which broke her heart. She wandered the country for years before returning to San Diego, where she went through alcohol rehab, and suffered a stroke while living in an SRO downtown, which nearly killed her. And yet to talk with this smiling redhead, you would never imagine she lives in one of the downtown tent shelters.

Brittany has a degree in Early Childhood Education, a proud mother of a bright two-year-old, a boyfriend with skills in welding and tile work. She's cheerful and energetic. She's also addicted to heroin and meth. She battles with the two strong forces in her life: a desire to be a good mother to the son who loves to go with her on day trips to the beach or for ice cream, versus the desire to be with her boyfriend, who has trouble kicking the habit. While they have both been in and out of rehab programs, they are currently out. They know the street is no place for a family with small children and are grateful Brittany's mother has watch over their son for now. "This is coming to an end," she said of her life on the streets.

Lynette Gresham wishes people didn't treat the homeless like they don't exist. Sitting on a bed at the winter shelter run my the Alpha Project for the Homeless, searching for a nebulizer to help with her COPD, she said she wishes more people would try and understand the path to homelessness. Her own experience of child abuse, being in and out of foster care and being pregnant as a teenager set the stage for what followed: living on the streets, falling into a cycle of drugs and prostitution and severe enough health issues to eventually force her to seek shelter and assistance.  "I want to do something meaningful before I leave," she said.

April Sundance, 30, started life as a boy in Ukraine when it was part of the Soviet Union. In a classic tale of betrayal, mafia bosses and strong personalities in the family, Sundance fled Ukraine like her father had done, only she fled to the U.S. where she hoped to fulfill dreams of becoming a transgender person, learning about the drug culture and becoming a Hollywood movie producer. On the rainy streets of San Diego at the beginning of a new year, she is two-thirds of the way there. Having relapsed into using meth for the first time in four months, she is freshly released from a mental health facility, and has an appointment with a crisis house, in her effort to stay sober this time. "I want to be a producer. I need to be in Hollywood. First I need to sober up," she said.

Cat's real name is Etta, for Etta James. She is one of 13 children, all of whom spent their youth in foster care. She lived in 15 different homes in her first 15 years of life. After that she decided to find her own family on the street. She has an out loud personality, which makes it easy for her to attract friends, but also to stand out to law enforcement. That turned out to be a bad thing when someone recognized her skateboard from a residential burglary. She served one and a half years of a four year sentence and has two more years of parole. So she tries to stay out of trouble, calls her two daughters, age five and seven, living with their fathers, and contemplates how to change her situation. Not ready to go indoors, she feels she needs to earn that privilege herself, not through some program. She's working on a plan.