THE SLABS CONTINUED.

The "slabs" is called a city because it was one for about 5,000 people at one time. Now, it serves as home to about 200 people, and for them, it is their city. Amenities include a place of worship.


Services.


A few businesses. The Mechanic, Linda, the news editor, and solar Mike are old timers of 25 years or so.


Various clubs regularly meet and/or stop at the slabs. Loners On Wheels, Jim's former club, the WINS, Travel'n Pals. Leo, who we came to see, left early. He told us most of his friends from the Oasis Club are gone. In his early eighties, the newcomers and he don't have much in common.


There is a free shoe shop and a pile of free clothing should you be in need.


A coffee house, organic espresso near the library.


The library hasn't changed much.


I donated a couple of books. They have a two-seater cafe inside, now.


In the morning, after we learned that Leo was okay, we took a walk past the pet cemetery.


I didn't count them, but there is probably 150 graves here. And a lot of love.


We took the same walk we would have taken with Leo and his dogs, had he been here, out by the pits. The first time I visited the slabs, these huge cement bunkers were plain concrete, now all graffittied, and people live inside of them. There are three huge ones like this one.


Whoever lives here roofed over and has an outdoor toilet and septic system and a garden on the right nearby.


One thing Randy complained about and Jim, too, is that Slab City has failed to do something about trash. Gathering it and making trash art is not a complete solution.


But Sandi Andrews has built it into her mud wall. She is allowing it to dry thoroughly.


This is her mud oven where she cooks as much as she can without fuel.


This is her God phone. It helps to have a sense of humor.


She makes her living off of her art work. She has two signs, this one is an effigy of herself.


Her paintings are soft and flowing. She showed me her technique and how she works.


I liked her work and bought a painting. Her work can be described as happy. She worked as a gold miner for seven years before settling in at the slabs. She sells CD's of her mandolin and guitar music.


She has three painted vehicles out front. This is Sandi with "Hannah," mostly driven by her son. She says, I don't go much of anywhere. She invited us to share happy hour with her but when Leo wasn't there, we left early.

We stopped in at Solar Mike's to have him check our battery set-up.


He adjusted it and we decided not to get another panel. Jim had boondocked for six weeks straight and he was worried about the low voltage. All's well. Mike says about three people cause 99% of the trash, here. He calls them strippers. We pushed on and spent the night under a starry sky at The Overlook, near Borego Springs.

ON THE WAY TO SLAB CITY.

Our friend, Randy Vining was parked, along with us, at the Quechan Casino parking lot. I love his blog, that often includes his friends Wayne and Glen. I finally got to meet them. Glenn is a full timer at 44 years old, and produces music with his computer for Hollywood TV movies. Wayne writes a spiritual blog. These guys engaged in some serious philosophical discussions while here. We didn't see much of Randy, but he came to wish us farewell.

Headed for the Slabs, which I hadn't visited since 2008 or 9, we crossed a long stretch of desert. New, on the roadside, what looked like saw horses tied together, are barriers to protect ATV riders from accidentally jumping up onto the roadside and injuring themselves.


Pretty dunes mark our route on highway 8 West, and then later highway 115 West. We passed through the biggest town around here, Brawley, and then the smaller town of Calapatria, population about 7,000 if you include the 4,000 inmates in their prison.


Calapatria has a flagpole 184 feet tall. Their claim to fame, so to speak. The city is 180 feet  below sea level, so their flag will always fly above sea level. We tend to think of them being out in the middle of nowhere. But, high school girls were happily chatting about boys and school and seem very content with their place. Who are we to judge?


Just before you get to the slabs, or Slab City, is the famous Salvation Mountain built by Leonard Knight, who if I'm not mistaken, can no longer attend his mountain. The place is famous all over the world. Movies, books and television programs have been made about his place, but Leonard never changes. He was bullied in school and didn't get much education. His car broke down at this spot and he considered it a message from God and began building his message of love of God. Interesting guy. Couldn't find my pictures of him.


The last time we visited, Leonard was having trouble with vandals stealing his meager funds from him. He was sleeping, then, in one of his vehicles. He built a warren for himself since then.

He would paint over the same areas, over and over again because the desert sun fades the paint. The mountain can be walked on and is solid. The construction to the right was in the beginning phase on our last visit. Love IS universal, he has that right. He is a kind and gentle soul. The place was done with donated paint, much of it lead paint.


And, then, Slab City. This is an old military guard station at the entrance to the city, since it was once a military base. I was trying to explain Slab City to my brother on the phone. He has never been, nor heard about it. He is in a rest home because one of the side affects of open heart surgery is blindness. His vision is impaired; he can't read or even see television clearly. He is suffering from gout and can't go home. Misery city for him, but I can read to him about Slab City on the phone later today. 

The information kiosk is nearby. Randy loves the slabs, and speculates, "Can a random group of people organize themselves into a form of government?"  The answer is yes. They have rules, they live together and work together but do not trammel on another person's rights. An interesting experiment. Randy has found, in his travels, other places that work that way, none quite as big as the slabs.


The kiosk has a message board, and gives you the identification for their radio station.


Under plastic permanent announcements.


Travel N Pals have a sign. I wanted to buy a newspaper, now called a newsletter. It was once a one-pager for ten cents. Linda, the editor wasn't home, but I bought one from her neighbor, Sandi Andrews. A three-pager for $3. Maps, the zip code, where services are located, events at the slabs, dates and times, and the hot news, a guy bit by a rattle snake made it. A well done little paper.


You can hardly read this message from Linda, but live music under the stars at the Range, which is what you might call a night-club.  No music on Mondays, but the stars last night, with no light pollution?  Magnificent diamonds envelope you,  an experience you only get in places like this. Gorgeous.
We were supposed to meet Jim's friend, Leo Perth, but he was MIA. Jim called his cell and his home in Oregon and did not get an answer. Hopefully we will find out he is okay. More on the slabs tomorrow.

SOLUTIONS?

I introduced you to my homeless brother yesterday. His problems were self-caused. For him to regain a respectable place in society requires that he have access to a toilet, a shower and an address.  He can sleep under the shelter of a freeway without too much hassle from the law.

Hassle from the law is part of what prevents MEN like Norman from getting out of their situation. I emphasize men because homeless women and families with children are treated differently.
When he still had a trailer, he was parked on private property with permission of the owner. The police department of that city, which I will not name, banged on his door one night. A familiar problem. They know who the homeless are. They had arrested him for drunk on more than one occasion.  Without opening the door, he asked what they wanted. They ordered him out of the trailer. He refused and with a copy of the bill of rights on his door he quoted:  “I have a right to be secure in my own house with my papers and effects against  unreasonable searches and seizures. So, tell me what you want?” They demanded twice more that he come out. When he refused they threatened to break the door down, and did.
They towed his trailer. He didn’t have money to get it out of the storage yard.  He had no income.  He did odd jobs, cutting weeds, mostly, on the property where he was parked. He fed himself and his dog from dumpsters.

Money is power, with no power to fight the illegal arrest, his chances of changing his situation diminishes.  District Attorneys  routinely  recommend  “human refuse” to plead guilty and promise them probation. He refuses. He always demands a trial. His latest arrest, for trespassing was dismissed by the courts. Yet, his belongings that he carefully accumulates between arrests, is often trashed and he ends up with only the clothes on his back.  In this case they gave him three days to remove his belongings. There was no citizen complaint against him living in a brushy property owned by Cal Trans.  He had been secure there and invisible for eleven months.

The Sheriff’s Department called Cal Trans officials to register a complaint against him when they discovered him. Then, they went in and cut all the brush so no one else could seek shelter there.
He has had his social security for three years now, an income of $837 a month.  Yet, when they arrest him, even though the case was dismissed, they cut off his medical, his social security and he has to re-apply for all of those benefits he is entitled too, which sometimes takes months. The Social Security office told him you have to go back to the Sheriff and pay for a piece of paper that declares you are no longer in jail. It cost him $25.  It seems like a good safeguard for we the people. But, he is on a bike, he is crippled from his stroke. He is not very clean, normal people shun him. He is accosted by business people if he sits anywhere. His stroke prevents him from standing very long.  When he tried to rent a place in a cheapie trailer park, they took one look at him with a flowing beard,  and turned him away. He is fortunate that he has a friend who will allow him to use an address, where he can pick up his check. Without his friend, he would be unable to collect his social security.

There are many solutions proposed for homeless, getting them jobs, advocates that work to  get them many benefits, but without an address, a contact place, decent clothes, and transportation, he will most likely be stuck in an unrelenting shuffle from one illegal spot to another.  There is no written law that says so, but  it is illegal in this country to be homeless  if you are a man.

A community that remains stable and self-sufficient is Slab City in Southern California. The residents maintain a community without facilities and services and manage quite well with solar and a hot springs. They have successfully governed themselves for many years. In fact, I’ve offered to take my brother to Slab City, but, he worked construction for years and has many skin cancers. The relentless sun there is his enemy and he declined.  Couldn’t  a solution be a fenced area where the homeless can congregate and form their own society?  How much would it cost to level a campground, and put up porta- potties for the homeless. A solar, out-door shower fenced off for privacy. At least, they could rest their heads without being hunted by the police.

BACK ON SCHEDULE, SORT OF.

December 17th.
I’m learning the mottoes of the road warriors, such as All Who Wander Are Not Lost. And Go With The Flow. And IDAAT which means One-Day-At-A-Time; this same motto is the special license plate on Jim’s Bronco.
At the Slabs, Jim and I hiked each morning with his friend Leo, 77, who winters in Slab City and goes home to his lady in Oregon during summers. A loveable guy with a crusty personality and an affectionate doberman named Juno. We became instant friends. Juno found a dead body under a desert bush last year, Leo told us. Life in the desert is harsher, decidedly different than the city. Characters abound, here, a niche for wandering souls who care not for prescribed life in the fast or slow lane.
Took a Slab City Shower in the outdoors, a sort of rite of passage and very enjoyable.


On the way to Yuma, we crossed the Mighty Colorado River where it dwindles to a trickle, but explorers traveled to Yuma for this crossing because there were few places to get across the raging waterway. It was 1200 miles between crossings, then.
Nearby the Dunes Recreational Area, seven miles wide and 10 miles long, a vista of drifted sand. The modern bridge rises above the sand dunes for an easy crossing but the dunes were a difficult place to traverse in the "old days". The famous “Plank Road” was in view from the bridge, the only way to navigate the sand before the invention of dune buggies and fat wheel ATVs, other than on horse back, donkey or camel.
We arrived in Yuma, parked at the American Legion until we decide where to hook -up.
Yesterday, we crossed the border into Mexico at Algodones for my dental evaluation. It will take three weeks to get my teeth fixed. Arranged to rent a place for a month so we will move today. But, hey, if the rain, which is heavy right now, persists? We can move tomorrow. A smooth advantage associated with life on a “Magic Carpet”.
Christmas seems surreal on the road but we have a wreath on the Motor Home and another on the Bronco. A first for Jim. Several choices of where to spend Christmas and the New Year from an activities list in Yuma. In the new park we will have a mailing address, HOLY COW! Time to order some movies from Amazon.com. Don’t sweat the small stuff and life flows.
Hasta la vista.

HOME ON THE BACK FORTY, DOCTORS AND DRUM CIRCLE

Friends, may I tell you that a blog is a wonderful responsibility. Hey, you gotta be here and posting. The trouble is we ramblers (me a newbie) discovered that the wi fi signal on the laptop isn’t always available as we traipse about the country. At times we are without a cell signal as well.
Here’s the skim: I flew home to Murphys Dec. 7th for a Doctor’s appt. , then a second doctor’s appointment. Attended a fantastic Drum Circle/Christmas Potluck at Jan Stewart’s with neighbor’s Suzy and Karen. See the photos: Caught up by phone with Pam Quyle. In other words, stuffed a lot in the 4 days I was home. I will have shoulder surgery on Feb. 11th, so the Ramblin Man and I will be returning in the cold of winter to take care of me.(I told everybody this ramblin guy was a keeper.)
However, Christmas will be spent away from family as I’m having dental work in Mexico Dec. 16th that will stretch to …?? Who knows? My dentist in Murphys was understandably unhappy that I chose to bypass his expensive treatment for affordable repairs in Mexico. I intend to return home with a new smile.

I flew back to Jamul Dec. 11th. Packed up, and the "Magic Carpet" (Jim's name for his ever movin' motorhome) took us to "The Slabs." Brief history, was once a minor marine base by the name of Camp Dunlap. It was closed in 1946 and sold to a private owner. The building foundations still remain and the place has become known as Slab City, at one time home to 5,000 campers, some drifters, homeless, and retired and vacationing RV-ers. We see a population of about 500 now with tents and million dollar rigs sharing the same neighborhood. It is also home to Leonard Wright, named by Congress as a National Treasure for his painting of Salvation Mountain. I'm having some very unique experiences. Pictures will follow (when I locate my camera cord or buy a new one in Yuma.) There are no services as we normally know them at Slab City, but there is a concert every Saturday night, Church on Sundays, a library, pet cemetery with the admonition CAVA CANI (beware of the dog) written by a typical Slabbite by the singular name of Tom (last name unknown) who wrote The Damn Fool. There is an outdoor natural hot tub and a community pit shower. (The Japanese have nothing on Slabbites.) They have an Ad Hoc Mayor by the name of Linda who has lived here for 20 years. She also publishes the Slab City Newspaper and has a radio station. I'll post again in two days when we reach Yuma where we should have a steadier wi fi signal. For more on Slab City, type it into your search engine and you'll find much information.
Chaio.