‘When you have nowhere to live and nothing to live for, you don’t want to live’

Lucy Richardson speaks to three men who have slept rough, but who are slowly rebuilding their lives.

ASHOP doorway and two pieces of cardboard were what Robert Shaffer called home for ten years. A homeless drunk, he filled his long days wandering aimlessly around Middlesbrough town centre.

Now he is off the streets and looking forward to starting a computer course at Middlesbrough College. And he loves his new life.

Originally from Newcastle, his downward spiral was triggered when his sister was murdered 20 years ago and two of his children were stillborn. Sleeping rough in Middlesbrough opened his eyes to an underworld of fear and violence. Although he was never hurt, he knew of people who were beaten up and had petrol poured over them by gangs.

“I didn’t sleep, I was on edge all the time,” he says. “Every day I would go and get washed at the railway station and then go straight to the off-licence to pick up a three-litre bottle of cider. I would buy two or three of those every single day.

“I would spend all my time just walking around the town centre. I got very depressed, I was at a low ebb, but I met some good people on the streets.”

The 51-year-old says he never resorted to begging or shoplifting, instead relying on dole money to survive. He says: “One morning I woke up and thought ‘I have got to do something with my life’ and decided to stop drinking.

I eased myself off it without medication. I shook and had cold sweats for six weeks, but it was worth it.”

Now living in a bedsit, he says he is hopeful for the future. At the Tickle the Tastebuds soup kitchen, on the Thorntree estate, in Middlesbrough, he proudly shows off a picture of his two young grandchildren, who live nearby and who he sees often. He says: “I want to have a life again. I want to meet someone nice, have a good job and own my own home. I feel 21 again, I love my life now.”

Thanks to Mr Shaffer, Paul Taylor is no longer destitute after he was told about a spare room in his bedsit block. “Living on the streets is terrifying,” says Mr Taylor. “Gangs of youths would beat you up. I was frightened all the time. You need to drink just to get to sleep.”

Mr Taylor, 24, ran away from home when he was 16 but was made homeless for six months after he separated from his partner.

“On the streets I was shoplifting and drinking.

Then I started fighting. I was locked up for possession of a knife and then spent nine months in prison for assault, but when I came out I was straight back out on the streets again.

“I was drinking heavily, partly due to my situation, but because it keeps you warm as well.

“When you have nowhere to live and nothing to live for, you don’t want to live. I have been arrested just to have a roof over my head for the night.”

Mr Taylor blames the death of his beloved grandfather and the breakdown of his relationship with his girlfriend for his demise.

“It’s all down to Robert that I’m starting a new job as a door-to-door salesman on Monday,”

he says with a smile. “I’ve got a new girlfriend and I’m going through a solicitor to get access to my two young children.”

Scooping up the last of his steamed pudding, he adds: “A couple of months ago I had lost everything, but I’m getting my life back on track. I’m happy.”

RESEARCH by Crisis, a national charity for single homeless people, reveals the reasons most men give for becoming homeless are relationship breakdown, substance misuse, and leaving an institution such as prison, care or hospital. For women, the most common causes are physical or mental health problems and escaping a violent relationship.

A Crisis spokesman says: “Rough sleepers have an average life expectancy of just 42 years, compared with the national average of 74 for men and 79 for women. People who sleep rough are 35 times more likely to commit suicide than the general population.”

The Government’s official estimate for June last year was that 464 people were sleeping rough each night in England, but the true figures could be much higher.

In Middlesbrough, a service to help homelessness people is delivered on behalf of Middlesbrough Council by Erimus Housing.

At a drop-in session for people living and working on the streets at St Mary’s Centre, in Middlesbrough, on Friday night, Sean Brady, nurses a cup of coffee while enjoying the relaxed banter.

Looking thin and unkempt, his eyes light up at the prospect of one day fulfilling his dream job of becoming a professional chef. After two years at catering college, he spent six years working at a hotel in Harrogate, followed by four years in a hotel at Heathrow Airport before he returned home to Middlesbrough when his father fell ill.

After he met a partner and had three children, the couple decided to have a role reversal and Mr Brady, 41, gave up his job as a kitchen porter to become a stay-at-home father.

When his wife went out to work and met someone else, Mr Brady said he found himself out of the family house. Living on the streets for 18 months, he was attacked several times.

“You feel that you don’t exist,” he says. “After a while, people do not notice you.”

Now he is living in a hostel where he helps cook the two meals served each day, and has launched legal action to gain access to his children, who he has not seen for two years.

He says: “I loved looking after my kids and I am desperate to see them again.

“I would love to get my own flat and get a job.

I hate being on the dole. I want a job even if it is just cleaning pots. When a relationship breaks down, dads are just left out on the doorstep – it’s no life.”

■ Advice is available on 0800-046-1600 and at erimushousing.co.uk. Alternatively, visit the Homechoice office in Corporation Road, Middlesbrough, from 9am to 5pm on Mondays, Tuesdays and Thursdays, from 10am to 5pm on Wednesdays and from 9am to 4.30pm on Fridays.

No appointment is needed.