Jake Karraker speaks calmly and with care. His tone is patient, he's articulate and direct. He's doesn't want to be seen as self-promotional, and he has no wish to seem preachy. But his story, he agrees, is one of hope, so he's willing to tell it.
After years living on the street, Karraker has made drastic changes to get off it. He's stopped drinking. He has a job. He knows it's more than a first step, but he also knows he still has a way to go.
His childhood and youth are the stuff of horror movies. Karraker, now 27, was born in Arizona and raised both there and in Alaska. He does not go into great detail when discussing his family, pausing only to say "it was really dysfunctional." By his count he's been living on his own for 16 years and living on the streets on and off for about the last 10. He's been in foster care and been incarcerated in a juvenile detention facility at age 13 for what he terms "a violent crime."
He adds that he hasn't spoken to any of his relatives in 11 years.
Coming to the Northwest about 10 years ago was the result of wanting to try something different; it was, he said "just someplace else." He lived first in the Bremerton area and came across the Sound in 2000. He considers himself officially homeless for the entirety of his time in the Seattle area. He stayed wherever he could; "couch surfing," because, he said, he was too scared to live on the street at first.
"I kind of migrated to Seattle," he said. "It seems a lot of us did as we got older. We sort of graduated to Seattle."
In Seattle, Karraker started living on the streets, spending most of his time on or around Broadway:
"As I got older and wiser I realized I could pretty much sleep anywhere as long as you stay out of sight. I slept under benches, alleys - anywhere that's dark and hidden. The only rule was to try not and sleep alone. There is safety in numbers."
Much of the last few years is something of a blur. While Karraker said that he's tried pretty much every substance you can think of, heroin or other narcotics was not his particular demon. In his case it was alcohol. If he slept in a dumpster during the winter he wouldn't even feel the cold until he become nominally sober in the morning.
"I had a really bad drinking problem," he said. "I couldn't handle any responsibilities. It didn't get bad until about four or five years ago. But it was pretty nonstop after that."
During summer and fall of last year, Karraker found himself in the hospital on a number of occasions. Usually these visits were related to the sometimes violent seizures he would experience when he wasn't drinking. He'd get some medical attention, spend time in detox and then repeat the cycle. After so many trips to the hospital a nurse asked him if he'd like to go to treatment. There was a bed available at that moment.
"In the past I was convinced I would drink heavily for the rest of my life. I used to think treatment was some kind of punishment. But when they offered it I practically jumped out of my bed," he said. His program began on Oct. 21, 2004.
"I've always known that I wanted to have a life, to be stable. I just didn't know how to get off the street and I didn't think it was possible," he said. "I was never a hard criminal. I'm not a dishonest guy. I have pretty good heart. But it was a rough time."
His treatment program ended on Jan. 22; sobriety is still a new experience for him. He now lives in a clean and sober halfway house. It provides some structure but is basically a group living situation with people who are in a similar stage of recovery. There is a zero tolerance policy regarding alcohol use or showing up drunk. Karraker expects to live there through the year. He likes the stability it provides. When he does get his own apartment, it will be the for the first time. Also on a to-do list: get his first bank account.
Finding a job
Prior to completing his treatment program, Karraker learned about a possible job that was becoming available.
Before Christmas, he had phoned Peace for the Streets by Kids from the Streets (PSKS), the homeless youth advocacy organization on Summit Avenue. He'd been stopping by for years, usually for something to eat or perhaps a few supplies. PSKS Executive Director Elaine Simons, PKSK said there was great relief when the call came in.
"No one had heard from Jake for awhile and we were really worried about him," she said. "He'd been in pretty bad shape when we last saw him. We called hospitals, even the morgue, and hadn't been able to find him. "
Karraker's call turned out to be more than a little fortuitous. Courtesy of a grant from the city's Office of Economic Development, PSKS was entering into a partnership with Clean-scapes, a local nonprofit that works on graffiti removal throughout the city.
Through the grant, Clean-scapes would employ a PSKS member. Simons recommended Karraker. He interviewed with founder Chris Martin, was hired and started working at the end of January. The position is Karraker's first job.
"These kids live in this community, so it's good if they can work in the community as well," said Simons. "Plus we've always wanted to tackle cleaning up the pocket park."
The Cleanscapes job is a good start for Karraker. Originally meant to be eight hours a week to clean the small pocket park at the northwest corner of Broadway and East Harrison Street, the job was soon expanded to 20 hours a week. Karraker works on other Cleanscapes projects throughout the city when he's not cleaning up the pocket park.
The grant runs through April and there is a good chance that it will be extended. It's also possible that Karraker could stay on at Cleanscapes and train the person who replaces him. "It's been a great place to work. They've been really supportive of me. They just wanted people who work hard and have a positive attitude," he said.
With Simons' encouragement, Karraker has been telling his story to community groups and with social services providers. He hopes his story is helpful.
Karraker still sees a lot of the people he used to hang out with before he went to treatment. He finds it a little ironic that he's working at a place where he used to hang out.
He also thought his street friends would consider him a sellout if they saw him working; instead they've been supportive, if somewhat surprised, and a little curious. He doesn't want to make his friends on the street uncomfortable.
He hopes he can present himself as a positive example, both to other homeless youths and to anyone in the neighborhood who regard homeless youths with contempt. He said he doesn't want to be a burden to the community or the police, which, he acknowledges, is a dramatic change from his previous life.
It's quite a challenge. Karraker knows he's still in the early stages of recovery. It's a fresh start, and he knows he has a long way to go.
"I know I'm being watched," he said. "I don't want to live on the street. Right now I just want to stay with my program and move forward."
Doug Schwartz is the editor of the Capitol Hill Times. He can be reached at editor@capitolhilltimes.com or 461-1308.
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