Getting up close and personal to photograph homeless people is the focus of Long Beach man’s advocacy
Eye contact. A smile. A hand extended for a shake.
David Freeman is making contact with two homeless women at a busy street corner in Anaheim. A Nikon d500 camera hangs from his neck, but he won’t take their photographs without asking first.
“Hi,” he says, “my name’s Dave.”
When they share their names, Freeman tells them why he’s there: “I’m an activist.”
Expand
It’s only after listening to their story and getting permission to take their photographs that Freeman takes up his camera.
Retired at 76 from a lucrative business marketing and selling Apple computers and other PCs, Freeman has spent the past two years photographing homeless people.
He’s found his subjects in his hometown of Long Beach, on Skid Row in Los Angeles, at the Santa Ana River Trail in Orange County, near a vacation home on Maui, and in dozens of other places from Southern California to the Midwest.
Local churches have been receptive to his work. They’ve opened their doors about a half-dozen times to his photography.
Starting Sunday, Sept. 23, and continuing through Oct. 9, First Congregational Church of Long Beach will host Freeman’s largest and longest display yet of the people he says remain invisible to those who pass them by without eye contact, a smile, or asking their names.
David Freeman’s portraits of homeless people will be on display at First Congregational Church in Long Beach from Sept. 23 to Oct. 9. (Photo by David Freeman)
The church, at 241 Cedar Ave., Long Beach, will display 40 of Freeman’s portraits in striking fashion, using images that measure 20-by-30 inches. One will be life-size.
He calls the exhibit “Homeless Faces and Places.”
“They’re really poignant pictures,” says church member Dr. Robert Kalayjian, a friend of Freeman’s. “Hopefully, it will move people.”
On the 23rd, for the church’s annual “Outreach Sunday” to highlight a social justice issue, Freeman also will be part of a panel of speakers discussing homelessness.
The hour-long forum begins at 11:30 a.m. and the photos can be viewed until about 2 p.m. After that, appointments must be made to see the photos during church office hours, 9 a.m. to 4 p.m., by calling 562-436-2256.
Street corner advocacy
While the images he captures can be shocking and disturbing, Freeman explains on his website, whoisthenexthomeless.com, what he is after:
“I look for hope not despair. Taking photos of the homeless is in itself a work of art. Each one is different.”
Freeman grew up in Long Beach and graduated from Cal State Long Beach in 1965. His colorful working life included owning a bar in Spain and getting in on the ground floor of the personal computer revolution. He’s always loved photography. A photo book on homeless people and their advocates is forthcoming.
“I look for hope not despair”
He spends an hour on the sidewalk, chatting with Julie Hannon and Robin Wilson as cars roar by the intersection of Lincoln Avenue and Beach Boulevard in Anaheim. During the encounter, one man grills a hot dog with a butane torch then dips it in Tostitos salsa.
Freeman listens with chin in hand to the story of the two women, both in their mid-50s. He nods and asks polite questions as they describe how they’ve been on the street for five years and have applied to 47 programs.
The only help they are getting is food stamps, they say.
“We don’t have any advocate, no legal help, no resources,” says Hannon, who tells him they both worked and had an apartment for decades but ended up on the street when they lost their jobs and couldn’t pay bills.
“Once you get behind,” Wilson adds, “there’s no catching up.”
Hand up, not a handout
In exchange for letting him take their photographs, Freeman passes out a few dollar bills to the homeless people, along with coupons for a free McDonald’s Big Mac.
He also promises to look into what possible resources there might be for the two women and come back again.
Not all encounters with homeless people go so well.
Twice, people have spit in his face at point blank range. Others have thrown things at him.
Demanding crowds have surrounded him after spotting those dollar bills. He’ll still offer help to those who decline to be photographed.
He knows, too, that there are people with jobs and homes and businesses who view the homeless population he advocates for in a negative light, and would consider activists like him “enablers” who help vagrants avoid taking responsibility for their own lives.
But Freeman’s parting words to Hannon and Wilson convey his own disappointment over homeless people who don’t follow through on available resources.
“No promises,” Freeman tells the women. “But if I find something, you’ve got to help yourselves. That’s how it works.”