faces of homelessness

Bend feels different now than it did two years ago for Joshua Hansen.

People and police officers are kinder to him than he remembers. There are parts of town — a specific convenience store, a certain hotel — which remind the 44-year-old of past traumatic experiences with his family, law enforcement and stints in psychiatric hospitals. But lately, Hansen’s been able to find a respite from those memories.

“I am hopeful. I don’t know the path forward, because I’ve never been here before, but I am hopeful. I suppose I shouldn’t be sometimes, but I am,” Hansen told The Bulletin from his spot on a couch at Bend’s Lighthouse Navigation Center.

“I’ve seen such kindness like out of so many people that it’s hard not to be hopeful.”

Homeless since a complex falling-out with his family two years ago, Hansen returned to Bend three weeks ago in hopes of reestablishing his connections.

After an unstable year spent living in homeless shelters across the country, he’s found a place to rest at the navigation center, which opened for daytime hours this summer and serves as a low-barrier shelter in the evenings.

“It’s been a go,” Hansen said. “It’s been an awful two years.”

His family told him he experienced a psychotic break, but some parts of what happened over those two years remain fuzzy in Hansen’s memory. Hansen, who moved to Bend in 2006 and says he sold real estate before he started farming hemp in 2019, remembers losing his marriage, family and home in the span of six months.

“I think (something) I wish people knew is it only takes a couple of bumps here and there,” Hansen said. “It’s the difference between being here and being in your house.

For Hansen, those bumps began in January 2020, when he began to notice his family doing things he didn’t, and still doesn’t, completely understand. He remembers them having conversations with each other about his mental health. He’s been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, but says he disagrees with that diagnosis and believes changes to his behavior have been the result of post traumatic stress disorder instead.

Hansen said he agreed to be committed to a mental health unit at a Portland hospital in early 2020. Once released, he returned to Deschutes County, but soon ended up in another behavioral health unit here.

Public court documents from Hansen’s divorce, finalized in December of that year, give some insight as to why he was committed. In them, Hansen’s then-wife told the court Hansen had been making threats against the family, and that he believed doctors and hospitals were trying to traffic their child.

After leaving the hospital, Hansen remembers another run-in with police, this time at a 7-11. He spent more time in the hospital, then spent about two weeks in the Deschutes County jail on three counts of contempt of court in December 2020, which he says were for having spent several nights at a hotel too close to a building he was prohibited from going near.

Soon after he got out of jail, Hansen decided he’d had enough. He left Bend, first by car and then by bus, traveling across the country. He slept in homeless shelters and on the street in major cities from here to Minneapolis, and made a point of asking those around him about their lives. He said he didn’t really understand homelessness until he was homeless himself.

“I’ve seen some of the nastiest things you can see,” Hansen said. “But I’ve also seen some of the most amazing, selfless acts that you could imagine. You learned to share — really share.”

Hansen’s family bought him a bus ticket back to Bend this spring, but returning to the city brought back memories of the past, making him anxious. He decided to leave again, and kept traveling.

But last month, his most recent return to Bend was different. He came back in hopes of mending his relationship with his child, whom Hansen is prohibited from being in contact with until a number of conditions about his stability are met, divorce documents show. He still faces what he calls “debilitating” traumatic memories when he walks around town, but the navigation center has become a safe place.

He has a case manager now, who’s helped him keep track of the legal documents he receives. He’s received help applying for public assistance, is scheduled to restart therapy next month and has become more hopeful about possible housing options in his future as he’s learned about tiny home villages being planned in Bend.

Above all, though, Hansen said he now has a place to rest after two years of instability.

“The reason that they’re here in various stages is they need to rest,” Hansen said, gesturing to the half-dozen others using the navigation center last week. “They need to rest because they’ve been through traumas that are equally as harsh as mine — harsher, most of them, to be honest. I think the contrast of what life that I came from created this really awful stuff.”

Who are the real people impacted by skyrocketing housing prices, decisions about homeless shelters or plans to sweep informal camps? The Bulletin wants to offer insight by telling their stories through the series Faces of Homelessness. Every two weeks this year, Bulletin reporters will introduce readers to a different homeless person. We are here to tell their stories.

For suggestions on how to help the region’s residents experiencing homelessness, contact the Homeless Leadership Coalition by email at info@cohomeless.org.