Two years ago, Vern was a smiling face around the Street Roots office, but he only sold papers across the street at Starbucks. That’s because Vern hadn’t left the block on Northwest Davis Street, where he lives, since 2013.
Then one day, Street Roots Vendor Program Manager DeVon Pouncey suggested Vern take the regular post at the Trader Joe’s on Northwest Glisan Street.
“I was excited, I was anxious, I was petrified,” Vern said.
Vern lived on the streets for “25 solid years,” he said.
Even after he got housing, Vern lived in fear of the gangs, drugs and violence from his past.
“I built up a wall that I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to tear down,” he said.
So what gave him the confidence to finally leave his block? “DeVon said it would be worth it,” Vern said, “and I trusted him totally.”
And DeVon was right.
“From day one, I had a really good reception.” In a column in December 2019, Street Roots Executive Director Kaia Sand wrote about the love and support Vern found at his new sales location. Now he goes there most days and sells 20 to 40 papers each time.
Over the past year, Vern has had a lot of ups and downs and time sitting in his room. In February 2020, he had major surgery to correct spinal cervical fusion. Surgeons took three disks out of his spine and put in a plate and six screws. A couple weeks later, Vern popped his neck in his sleep — a lifelong habit that was impossible to break. He wore a neck brace for three months after that.
“It just hasn’t been right since,” he said. “But I have to maintain a positive attitude, or who knows where I’d be?”
He’d saved up some money from paper sales to take the bus to go meet his dad for the first time.
Then, the pandemic hit and those plans were put on hold. Vern started spending a lot more time in his room. He got internet.
Then, Street Roots made the difference in Vern’s life again.
“When we went into lockdown and they stopped selling papers,” he said, “Street Roots put money in our pockets every week. Without that little bit of income coming in for four, five, six months, a lot of people would have been way worse off.”
Vern worked in the Street Roots office for a time early on. He called out vendors for wearing masks hanging around their chin.
“I call them ‘chin diapers,’” he said. “We got into huge arguments about the mask thing. You cannot be afraid to speak up.”
But, he added cheerfully, “I’ve learned and I’m learning on a regular basis that sometimes you may say the wrong thing and you’ve got to listen to what’s being said back to you. So I’m working on that one big time.”
As the weeks dragged on, everyone got better at wearing masks. But Vern found it was better for him to get out of the office and into the camps providing supplies.
Today, Vern is back at his post at Trader Joe’s. Customers stop and talk. Staff come out and make it a point to tell him they’re glad he’s there.
“They’re really above and beyond nice,” he said. “They’re like family. And I never had that.”
He’s still hoping to meet his dad, perhaps in May if he can get vaccinated by then. And even with the continuing pain from his neck surgery, Vern’s life today, he said, is like “two different worlds.
“I don’t even look back at what it was before.”