Reedsport

At 6:42 on a Sunday morning I decided to take a walk on a dike along a creek that runs through Reedsport and empties into the Umpqua River. I had stayed overnight in this strange, gritty half ghost town and thoroughly enjoyed myself. I bet you didn't know Reedsport has a socialist golf course, bowling alley and more wooden carvings of Donald Trump than any town in Oregon.

After my walk, I would head back to Portland.

Light was just coming up as I approached the dike. I saw a man walking toward me. He was bearded with long hair, carrying a backpack and bedroll, anywhere between 40 and 70 and obviously homeless.

In Reedsport at 6:42 on a Sunday morning.

It was hardly surprising because I see similar sights in every rural place I visit.

Right as we were about to meet, the man cut through a parking lot. Where was he going? What would he do all day in Reedsport? How was he surviving?

I walked along the dike and admired a snowy egret and a derelict fishing boat, half sunk and wedged in between rotting pilings. I also turned my gaze to a packed mobile home park of the kind they don't or can't build anymore. Affordable housing right here in Reedsport and some of it was very neatly maintained. You wonder why the government doesn't return to this model and subsidize rural seniors in this way. The land is certainly available. So are better quality manufactured homes.

The trail on the dike ended and I found myself wandering through a Reedsport neighborhood where several houses were listed for sale and cost under $200,000. They needed work but it was an affordable home. If I didn't have responsibilities in Portland, I might consider buying one myself and assist in a mini renaissance of Reedsport.

I walked several streets and found myself in front of a Safeway. There was the homeless man I'd encountered, sitting on a sidewalk charging his phone. I said hello and he said hello back.

What would he do with that phone once it was charged. Would it help him survive?