What Happens When the Big Tent Folds?
Chris seems like the guy next door. Thirtysomething, well-built, clean-shaven, quick with conversation. He’s spent most of his life in South Florida, making a living working in restaurants near the beach. But Chris doesn’t live next door to anyone. He’s been out of housing and on the streets for three years. It’s his choice, he says, because rents are too high. And he’s tired of buying things only to have them stolen or repossessed. He has a regular place to sleep in a nook off Oakland Park Boulevard and carries his meager belongings with him in a tan bag. Chris isn’t his real name. He wouldn’t give it. But his story is real and typical of hundreds of Broward County’s homeless. In the county’s current multimillion-dollar plan to solve its homeless problem, people like Chris will likely be ignored. Chris steers clear of Fort Lauderdale’s homeless encampment in a downtown parking lot, known as Tent City. A group of middle-aged men having a meal at the beach on Thanksgiving eve said they
