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Mar 17, 2024

A writer’s life on — and off — the streets

Vince Shumate rode the free downtown shuttle in the heat of mid-July to keep cool. A few days later, he spoke about his life on Charleston’s streets for much of the last four years. But by the end of

Vince Shumate rode the free downtown shuttle in the heat of mid-July to keep cool. A few days later, he spoke about his life on Charleston’s streets for much of the last four years. But by the end of the month, he had a home — a cell at the Sheriff Al Cannon Detention Center.

Shumate, a 61-year-old homeless writer, describes Charleston in prose like few people have, such as in this October 2022 blog entry:

“It’s not going to get super cold here in Charleston but having toes that are so cold you can’t even feel them is no fun. No fun at all,” he wrote in “My Attempt to Prepare for 44-Degree Weather.” His periodic blog, “I Am Vince,” details the joy and desolation of street life.

On the streets for decades, Shumate has been shot at with a paintball gun — “those things sting,” he said. He’s been stabbed twice, beaten countless times, robbed, mugged and run over by a car. He recently tripped, which led to falling on his face into a lamppost. “I woke up in an emergency room. It looked like somebody had used a belt sander down my face.”

Shumate’s injuries are a road map of the injured body. A titanium shoulder plate he got after being hit by a car has been bothering him. He’s got at least six recent broken ribs, severed orbital nerves, a skull fracture, two broken clavicles, a broken jaw and dozens of other wounds of a life lived without walls and comfort.

Around 8 p.m. July 31, Charleston police reportedly asked him to stop making a disturbance along Market Street. Police said he disregarded commands to stop and walked away. An officer tried to detain him, according to an incident report, but “Mr. Shumate swung his cane striking the door of 67 State St. (The Spectator Hotel).” He was arrested on a disorderly conduct charge, a misdemeanor with a bond of $257. He was in the county jail until Aug. 14, when he was released for “time served,” according to a county official.

Shumate spoke about his life on the streets in Charleston in three interviews with the Charleston City Paper. First, he spoke near the Charleston Visitor Center after riding the shuttle. Then came interviews at Joe Riley Waterfront Park and in a room at the jail.

Born in 1961 in Beckley, W.Va., Shumate is often seen wandering near the park in downtown’s French Quarter neighborhood. On one July day, he had 18 cents, a bruised face, a backpack of art and writing supplies and an empty bottle of liquor.

“I pick up odd jobs,” he said during one interview. “I have an echo-location like a bat — if I hear a chop saw or a circular saw or a hammer drill or anything like that, I’ll go to it and ask for work,” he said, adding that sometimes — when he has art supplies — he’ll also sell geometric drawings and paintings to pick up some cash. Sometimes, he dances.

Shumate said loneliness is the most harmful part of life on the street. He tends to keep to his own, avoiding the cliques of homeless people around town. Spending months alone at a time has left a heavy weight on his mind, he said. But writing helps with the isolation of homelessness. He said that it has saved him.

“I write because it is cheaper than drugs or a psychiatrist,” he said.

Shumate started writing with a daily list of gratitudes. His list evolved, he said, into an honest narrative of his life.

“It puts you in a better place,” he added.

He used to write on a laptop, which was stolen. A different one doesn’t work because he can’t authenticate it because he lost a phone. So Shumate has been writing on library computers when he can. In general, his writing illustrates his struggles with addiction and PTSD on a daily basis.

Every day, he finds a safe spot in a parking garage around midnight. He catches a few hours of sleep and is up as early as 4:30 a.m. “I’m gone before the birds are waking up,” he said. In another interview, he observed, “Early in the morning, there is a freedom here like you wouldn’t believe. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

He then searches for food and shelter, noting that his daily life isn’t extremely different from how the homeless of Charleston live their lives. The difference is that he writes about it.

For Shumate, a single day can be a story. He said he started writing after sending some thoughts to Speak Up magazine in Rock Hill. He described his style as trying to sound clear and powerful like the writing of Ernest Hemingway. Shumate said he uses declarative sentences that communicate his condition.

For example, Shumate described how, with chilled arthritic hands, he bounced to different resource centers, dreading the approaching cold. A woman who bought clothes for him brought “happy tears” to his eyes.

In “My Attempt to Prepare for 44-Degree Weather,” he asked the reader to consider keeping hand warmers in their glove compartments and to “toss one (or 10) to a homeless person standing on the street corner shivering and turning blue while you’re waiting for the light to turn green.”

He said he calls himself the “Voice of the Streets.” Shumate said he aims to be a mediator between the homeless and the more fortunate.

“I’d like to become some sort of liaison between the homeless and others who may be able and want to help,” Shumate said in a blog series, “One Week on the Streets.” “A lot of people, businesses and organizations either don’t know how to help, or even if they can.”

Another article, “In Search of Sleep,” began with gratitude for shelter during a “blasting” rainstorm.

Shumate often writes about the difficulty and joy of immediate things like a sleeping spot, a meal or the elements.

“It’s good to change locations often because if you sleep in one place 100% of the time, eventually the cops are going to come up and hassle you. Every night is a roll of the dice.”“In Search of Sleep” highlights his continuing struggle to find peace while ducking the police. He had two sleeping spots taken from him in one night. Even trying to sleep makes a story for Shumate.

“I’m homeless. No matter where I lay down the cops are going to tell me to leave,” Shumate said. “I was sober, exhausted, not in possession of any illegal drugs, and just needed sleep.”His writing also shows a side of Charleston that those who live in homes would find difficult to imagine.

“Walk a mile in my shoes and you’ll want yours back after the first 10 steps,” he said in one post.

Shumate said he has been to Paris, London, Puerto Rico, Asheville, California and “everywhere in the South or East Coast.” He said he has slept on a billboard in California and typed at Hemingway’s typewriter in Key West, Fla. He has now found himself in Charleston.

“Why did I come to Charleston? It is cold as shit in Asheville,” he said, later adding that he didn’t like how there was a lot of heroin and other drugs in the area.

Shumate recalled his high school graduation in West Virginia, where he said he graduated near the top of his class. For a while, Shumate said he had a successful business cleaning boats in Long Beach, Calif. At that point, he had a car and a roof over his head.

Then at age 24, he said, his back went out. Shumate said he was diagnosed with an unusually young case of osteoarthritis. After that, he said he spiraled. And that’s when he said alcoholism began tearing at his life and his path of homelessness started.

For the last 25 years, he said he’s had housing insecurity. He’s been in Charleston for about four years, but went to Key West for a few months for warmth when he had money from an insurance settlement.

Shumate said he believed a great way to help Charleston’s homeless would be for an organization to develop a “street sheet” — a guide to soup kitchens, shelters and rehabilitation centers.

“There would be a lot less suffering and confusion if there was one,” he said, “Some people don’t know where to sleep or eat when they get here.”

He said life on the city streets is just as difficult as one under a roof.

There are so many starvation wages and car payments. Right now I’ve gota spot where I sleep, and I look at the stars.”Vince Shumate

“There are so many starvation wages and car payments,” he said. “Right now I’ve got a spot where I sleep, and I look at the stars.”

A few days before Shumate was arrested for the umpteenth time, he had less than $10. His titanium shoulder plate hurts and sometimes feels like it’s going to pop out of his shoulder, he said.

When asked what he’d do next, Shumate reflected that his week in jail had been “great,” other than some mess he had to put up with from some younger inmates, “because I’ve been away from alcohol.”

He said he hoped to get into a free detox program.

“I’m really struggling with staying straight, staying sober,” he said, later adding that he yearned to get back to writing. “I need a laptop, a camera and a phone. In that way, I can get back to [typing] 42 words a minute. That’s about my top speed. …

“If I’m writing, it will take up enough of my time that I won’t be thinking about drinking. Idle hands are the devil’s workshop, right?”

Whether in jail or out, he expects to persevere as he has for 25 years.

“I live in the here and now. That’s the only place there is.”

You can find Shumate’s blog at vinceshumate.substack.com.

Editor Andy Brack contributed to this story.

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