John Stefan groans as he opens the hood of his old Mercedes.
Posted at 5:00 am.
It connects the two wires of a portable battery the size of a cookie jar to the car battery. Then he goes around the open door and turns the key in the ignition.
He repeats this sequence 10, 15 times a day. Roll down a window. To open the trunk. Dismantle the bench in the evening. Everything in the vehicle is electric. Practical in theory. Less if the battery no longer holds its charge.
PHOTO OLIVIER JEAN, THE PRESS
John Stephen
The other night I woke up every two hours because I was so cold. I had to go out every time to turn on the heater for five minutes.
John Stephen
There is nothing about the 48-year-old that suggests he is homeless. He is clean-shaven. Her hair is styled. His clothes are impeccable. With his cell phone constantly ringing – calls about the sale of Interac terminals and a radio project – he almost seems like a businessman.
Since May, however, John has been living full-time in his car with his dog Bow.
He has been stuck on a quiet street in Montreal’s Pointe-Saint-Charles neighborhood for 43 days. Because his car broke down exactly at this point. The brakes make a loud noise and he doesn’t dare drive more than a few meters.
Local residents disagree about the presence of this city. A couple lent him their garden hose for a while and allowed him to charge his portable battery, laptop and phone from an outdoor outlet. Another gave him his WiFi password and gave him a pillow.
There are also those who want him gone. The police often came after complaints were received. The Mercedes was almost towed away. John had so many unpaid traffic tickets that his driver’s license was no longer valid. One of his friends came to the rescue and transferred the money to him.
A long slope to climb
John Stefan is a drug addict. After studying psychology at McGill University, he got into cocaine and then crack 20 years ago.
In two decades he had never lived on the streets. Not close. He always worked, mostly on his own account. In telemarketing and brand image management, he says. He was married. He owned a house on the south shore of Montreal. After his divorce, he rented an apartment on Rue De Bleury.
He lost everything in the summer of 2022 when he relapsed after a romantic breakup. He had been sober for 22 months. In his spiral, he stopped working and wasted his money. His landlord showed him the door at the end of the lease.
He had fallen deeply before, but he always managed to get back up. Not this time.
This is the first time in my life that I don’t have the stability and security of a house, a roof over my head. It makes it very difficult to get out.
John Stephen
At first he lived here and there, with friends and acquaintances. “At our age it is more difficult to find accommodation. Everyone has their own life,” he says.
In May, he ran out of options and got in his car with Bow. Some of his furniture is in storage that he can’t pay for. He assumes they will be auctioned off.
Since then, John has been trying to pull himself together. He says he stopped using crack and fell back on cigarettes, which he continues to do.
John walks around the kiosks at the Share the Warmth food bank on Fortune Street, southwest. He chooses several canned goods, fruits and vegetables. A volunteer offers him hamburger meat pies. “I can’t. I don’t have a refrigerator or an oven. » He goes with cold cuts, which he will eat quickly. The same goes for the yoghurts he swallows little by little when he gets to his car. “I can only eat very limited amounts because I can’t cook. »
He is entitled to the food bank twice a month. He’s now a regular at Dollarama, where he buys Chef Boyardee, canned tuna, cookies and ramen noodles, which he eats raw. The front door compartment houses a salt shaker, a pepper shaker and a can opener.
Almost every morning he goes to the Maxi grocery store, where the employees have him washed and shaved. “I use wipes. Showering is an event. »
When he has enough money, he goes to the gas station to fill up a can of gasoline. He buys treats for Bow whenever he can.
But most of the $558 check he receives each month from welfare goes toward his car expenses. A check reduced by the state precisely because he owns a car that is overvalued.
I’m being punished for having an apartment. The irony is that even if I sold it, I wouldn’t get a dime. It is purchased with a loan. I owe the bank the money.
John Stephen
To make ends meet, John set up a GoFundMe page, which some friends contributed to.
He has also tried selling Interac terminals to dealers for a friend’s business, but without a working vehicle it’s complicated. “I have to visit people in person, but it takes a long time on public transport and I can’t afford a taxi. »
A few days ago he returned the laptop he bought at Costco last summer to work. He had no more money to eat.
In short, he goes in circles.
“If I had a bed, if I knew that I would have enough to eat today, tomorrow, next week, I could concentrate on work. I don’t know how to get out of this. »
Parking spaces
Parking spaces for people living in their cars are springing up almost everywhere in the United States, the New York Times revealed last week. People who don’t make enough to pay rent but too much to receive government assistance and who have turned their car into a form of affordable housing. John is building a similar project. He wants to recycle old cars into temporary housing for people like him. “We could install them in a city-approved parking lot and provide surveillance. This way people would have a kind of “home”. Many don’t want to go to emergency shelters. »
John’s monthly budget
income
- $558 in welfare
- Variable amount of donations and loans from friends
Cost
- $601.34 to the bank for a car loan
- $228.95 insurance
- $14.28 at CAA
- Bank fees of $16.95
- $51.75 in cell phone charges
- $142 worth of medication for the dog
- $25 for laundry
- $150 gas
- $300 for food
- $10 for a PO box
Total: $1240