Steller: Homeless life is complicated in Tucson summer

The problem is, this is their first summer in a new campsite on Tucson’s south side.

Forced out of their old familiar site last November, they set up their current site above last summer’s flood-debris line, under a tamarisk tree. But last summer was a relatively dry season, they know, so the test of their site will likely come soon.

“I been living in this river for 17 years,” McLeod told me in his Maine accent as the winds began whipping Tuesday morning. “When I hear water coming, we get ahead of it.”

“The only thing I’m gonna do is grab the dogs and go,” he said.

I wrote about Franco, 54, McLeod, 77, and their former camp-mate George Chandler, 68, in February. Today I’m updating their story and another I wrote last year.

The threesome that I described in February, emphasizing their ability to keep a neat home even living under a tamarisk tree, has become a twosome. Chandler left with a plan to head for Prescott with his beloved dog, Solo.

I was unable to reach Chandler this week, but McLeod said he had seen him in Tucson.

The split wasn’t entirely amicable, as is often the case when adults live together in difficult situations. Solo got in two fights with Puppy Boy, one of the throwaway dogs the trio had adopted, who was growing up and asserting himself. There were resulting personal conflicts, too, and Chandler moved out.

Surviving a Tucson summer in a homeless camp means rising early and planning carefully, McLeod and Franco told me.

“You got to get up early before this (heat) rises,” Franco said.

After getting up, they head out on their bikes for water, ice, food or whatever else is needed.

“Water is gold out here,” Franco said. “If somebody came out here with gallons of water and gold, we’d take the water.”

McLeod holes up under a shade tarp during the day and listens to talk radio while sipping cool water, but Franco has social obligations and connections she likes to keep up. On Monday, after taking care of a friend’s dogs and doing laundry at the house, she found herself biking home in the heat and wind carrying a laundry bag on each handlebar.

“The day-to-day survival is work,” she said.

If things go according to plan, this will be McLeod’s last summer in the river bottom. He’s been making payments on a used Winnebago and is on schedule to take possession this fall of the RV he plans to make his home.

Franco was hopeful this spring, as local momentum seemed to build toward a new approach to homelessness. She joined local supporter of the homeless Michele Ream and downtown advocate Michael Keith in meeting to work on a plan for homeless “huts,” a cheap, safe place to live that has proved cost-effective in Oregon and elsewhere.

But so far there has only been enough money to build a couple of huts as a pilot project. Franco’s thought now is that when McLeod gets the Winnebago, he can put it on a site where she, too, can camp or better yet, have a hut of her own.

Karen Seger passes away

In December, I wrote about my friend Karen Seger, who was suffering from cancer and nevertheless still hosting foreign visitors at her Tucson home, as she and her husband have for many years.

Karen, 74, died May 18 after what became a horrifying few months of chemotherapy for pancreatic cancer. I last saw her in early May and was struck by the dementialike state she was in. So sad.

Bob White, her husband, said Karen chose to undergo chemotherapy, although the prognosis was poor, because she hoped it would give her more time with her family. In the end, if any time was gained, the quality of life was so poor that it may not have been worth it, he said.

A memorial service is planned for July 19 at San Pedro Chapel, 5230 E. Fort Lowell Road. However, the time has not been firmly set yet.