5th Anniversary - Updated & Expanded Edition
With foreword by Francis Chan
Ever Wonder What it Would Be Like to Live Homeless?
Mike Yankoski did more than just wonder. By his own choice, Mike's life went from upper-middle class plush to scum-of-the-earth repulsive overnight. With only a backpack, a sleeping bag and a guitar, Mike and his traveling companion, Sam, set out to experience life on the streets in six different cities—from Washington D.C. to San Diego— and they put themselves to the test.
For more than five months the pair experienced firsthand the extreme pains of hunger, the constant uncertainty and danger of living on the streets, exhaustion, depression, and social rejection—and all of this by their own choice. They wanted to find out if their faith was real, if they could actually be the Christians they said they were apart from the comforts they’d always known…to discover first hand what it means to be homeless in America.
Mike and Sam's story is gritty, challenging, and utterly captivating. What you encounter in these pages will radically alter how you see your world—and may even change your life.
From the Trade Paperback edition.
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|Title of Religion eBook: Under the Overpass|
|Release Date: 01-21-2009|
|Allowed Countries (hover)|
|Publisher: The Doubleday Religious Publishing Group|
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|Parent title||Under the Overpass|
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Under the Overpass
Chapter OneTWENTY MINUTES PAST THE WORLD
Real punches aren't as sharp and clean as Hollywood makes them out to be. They're much deeper, thicker. If you happen to hear them from close-up, the sound doesn't give you a rush of adrenaline. It makes your stomach sink.
The punches, screams, cursing, and kicking we witnessed that night in the park were real. The blood was real, too. It was another cold night in San Francisco ...
I had walked against the wind over to where Sam was sitting, his back up to the concrete and brick wall that circles the planter at the Haight Street entrance to Golden Gate Park. All I'd had to eat that day was a ninety-nine-cent hamburger, and it sat uncomfortably in my stomach. I groaned, stretched, and sat down next to Sam, rubbing my hands together to try to get some feeling back in my fingers.
"You know you're cold when you're fingers are too stiff to play the guitar," Sam said.
He had laid his guitar carefully across some dead flowers in the planter behind us. Fog billowed high above us, and every now and then, a cold gust pushed trash and dust into our faces. The air was rank with the stench of alcohol, cigarettes, body odor, and joints. Even with the wind it was sickening.
Nearby, six street people played quarters, a game in which the person throwing a quarter closest to the wall but not touching it took everyone else's quarters. It was a good way to pass the time and make a little cash.
One of the girls threw a quarter that clanked sharply against the wall. A horrible throw. She let out...