TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/123091/1230102.000

Text File | 1992-08-28 | 6.4 KB | 130 lines

                                                                                NATION, Page 22

NORTH CAROLINA

They're Home for Christmas


For one struggling family in Charlotte, fate, luck and hard
work all come together at the right time to make this a holiday
to remember

By MICHAEL RILEY/CHARLOTTE


    Brandon and Nicole Harden drew a poster together at
school that captures the rough journey they have taken together
this year. On one side is a picture of a skull with knives
stabbing through it. "This is bad," they wrote, "so never have
a bad holiday or a bad birthday or other bad days." On the flip
side is a heart, a promise of better days.

    A lot of good hearts have helped give the Harden children
a real Christmas this year. But six months ago, when their
mother Tamey left them in Poplar Bluff, Mo., to search for work
elsewhere, the children wondered if the holidays would ever come
again. When they joined her in Charlotte, N.C., Tamey had still
not found a home. At first the clan lived in cramped motel
rooms, then in a homeless shelter for families. But now Tamey,
her boyfriend Bobby Warren and the children, 7 and 10, have an
apartment, a tree ringed with presents, and a vision of their
lives that hard work and good luck delivered just in time for
Christmas.

    When Tamey and Bobby set out last spring for the
prosperous Sunbelt city, they hoped they could make a new life
for their family. Though Bobby found a job at a local cafeteria,
they lost their place to live and soon were out on the street.
For a while they slept in a parking lot in their 1978 Buick
LeSabre, until the police shooed them away. Then they spent some
nights in Park Road Park, sneaking in about midnight after the
park ranger left and departing by dawn before he returned. They
hid blankets and pillows in the bushes and slept on a picnic
table under a streetlight, where the mosquitoes weren't so bad.
They took showers with a five-gallon water jug and washed up in
the bathrooms, one standing guard for the other. Bobby shaved
using the car's broken rearview mirror, and they washed clothes
in the sink. "There's no reason you can't be clean if you can
find a bathroom," notes Tamey. But they could improvise for
only so long, and on the Fourth of July they finally hit
bottom. For two days they had not eaten: after the picnickers
left, they scavenged through the garbage cans for food, angry
that one large group had taken their trash with them.

    "You can get down," says Bobby, "but you don't have to
stay there." The next day Tamey found a job running a cash
register at Hardee's. Soon they had enough money to move into
some cheap motels on a seedy avenue of used-car dealerships,
pawn-shops and nightclubs. Within weeks they sent for the kids,
who showed up the day before Nicole's 10th birthday. As she
stepped out of the car at 5 a.m., Nicole took one look at the
decrepit motel and asked, "Where are we going to live, Mom?"
Tamey's response: "Here." Her daughter shrugged her shoulders,
thinking they would move to a house the next day. "But we
didn't," Nicole recalls, "because we didn't have one."

    Motel life might have soured their souls. The children
watched television all day, and slept on the floor or shared a
single bed. They ate lunch meat from a cooler, or cooked fried
chicken on some electric skillets and a hot plate they bought
from a street person. Brandon once tripped over a shoe and
burned his hand on hot oil in the skillet. He sobbed for an
hour, but Tamey did not think the burn was bad enough to justify
calling an ambulance. She was worried about the cost.

    Finally the family, unable to save enough money for a
deposit on an apartment, moved into Plaza Place, emergency
transitional housing for families in Charlotte. "A lot of things
run through your mind when you don't have a place to live," says
Tamey. "You wonder how did you get this way? How did this
happen?" The kids felt the pain too. Brandon, a bright child
with a sharp mind, hungered for attention and grew angry at
times. Without any peers, Nicole, a pretty girl with a sweet
smile and a quick wit, was adrift and alone. They had no
friends, no neighborhood, no grandmother and little reason for
hope.

    Then the year brought its first gift: Tamey learned about
A Child's Place, an innovative transitional school in downtown
Charlotte that offers homeless children stability and security
as well as a place to learn. The Hardens impressed executive
director Debbie McKone. "I'm amazed at the elasticity of their
existence," she says, "and how well they get by on what they
have to get by on."

    Then their good fortune multiplied. Last month an
anonymous donation from a local church gave the clan enough
money to rent a furnished apartment on Charlotte's southside.
Nicole and Brandon still share a bed, but this time it's a
double. They have enrolled at Montclaire Elementary, where
Nicole is turning into a math whiz. Brandon, who has befriended
every kid in class, is proud of his creative writing. But he is
proudest of his new home. "I have my own room, a dresser where
I keep my clothes," says he. "I got blinds and a teddy bear."

    The children's original Christmas tree, a dying cedar
sapling adorned with construction paper ornaments, sits on the
dining table. But there is a new tree in the room, an artificial
one that cost a hefty $13.99 and stands as the centerpiece of
the tiny living room. Bobby's rich tenor voice bounces off the
beige walls, bare except for a few Christmas decorations, in a
jazzy version of White Christmas. "We'll have Christmas anyway.
It'll be better next year," he says. The family is still only
a paycheck away from homelessness, but they have acquired some
valuable lessons. "I used to look at homeless people on the
street and think, `Man, what a drunk bum,' " says Bobby. "But
shoot, man, you never know." It's made Nicole want to stay in
school. "I should have a job," she says, "so I can grow up and
be what I want to be and have a house to live in."

    The Hardens, of course, are the rare exceptions to a hard
rule. They are safe and together, in a place of their own. Most
homeless children will spend this holiday watching TV in a
shelter or a rundown motel -- if they are even that lucky. When
Christmas is over, there will still be no end of work to be
done, and a crying need for miracles.