Seattle architect giving voice, helping hand to area homeless
SEATTLE -- These days, Rex Hohlbein has a foot in two starkly different worlds.
In one world are the wealthy clients for whom the Seattle architect designs custom homes.
In the other world are those without homes who sleep in doorways and on park benches.
"It's kind of a strange back-and-forth," he said.
In the past year, Hohlbein has found himself increasingly drawn to the world of the homeless — so much so that the 53-year-old builder is determined to knock down the invisible wall that separates the two worlds.
A life-changing encounter
Hohlbein's latest journey began one early morning 10 months ago when a pair of shopping carts greeted him outside his Fremont office.
"One was just stacked with painting, canvasses. The other had supplies, and a man sleeping underneath," he said.
He brought the man a cup of coffee, and offered to let him use the bathroom in his office.
"So he did that, and went back out and started sweeping," he said. The man wanted to leave clean the space he had occupied.
Several hours later, the man returned.
"He told me he wanted to read a story he had written for a children's book he wants to publish," Hohlbein said.
The man then pulled out some 15 pages of crumpled paper and told a story about a boy who was frequently picked on. The boy retreated into a forest to hide from bullies, the story went, and found other boys who had also been targeted. Together, the boys formed a group that could stand tall.
"It got to a point where it made me cry," said Hohlbein. "Next thing you knew, I said if he helped me, we would clean up the storage shed next to my office."
For the next three months, the man, whom Hohlbein came to know as Chiaka, lived in the shed and spent his days painting.
"He would do art somewhere in the city, come back and check in," said Hohlbein. He eventually set up a Facebook page for the man who was fast becoming his friend.
It was that Facebook page, which featured Chiaka's paintings, that caught the eye of the man's daughters in Pittsburgh. They had not spoken in more than 10 years, but once Chiaka's family learned of his troubles, they bought him a plane ticket home.
"He's now living with his father," said Hohlbein.
'Baby steps. The next thing you know, you're there'
The unexpected friendship sparked something inside Hohlbein, who began opening himself — and his office — to the homeless around Fremont.
"(I) just tried to make eye contact and say hello," he said. "If you're out and about, you just get to meet people. The more you get to know somebody, the easier it is to talk to them the next time. And maybe you get to meet one of their friends."
Within weeks, Hohlbein's office became a resting stop for the homeless. Nowadays, visitors come by daily.
"Baby steps. The next thing you know, you're there," he said. "People come in, sleep on the floors, spend the day doing crossword puzzles in the library...use the bathroom regularly, computer, phone. People send mail here."
Hohlbein's new connections inspired him to create a Facebook page titled Homeless in Seattle. He began taking photographs of his visitors and posting snippets of their stories on the page.
"I started to know more about them, and out of those encounters came stories. And the stories, to me, were fascinating," he said. "The thing about meeting someone who's homeless or from a different country or of a much different age — I find myself hanging on every word, because their life experience is radically different from my life experience."
Hohlbein recently also set up a Twitter account — @homelessSeattle — to give his visitors a voice. He urges them to tweet about whatever their heart's desire, from their life struggles to reflections on daily life.
"Fremont / Randy Kennedy called about storing sheets of plywood, he is building some rain-protection for Dinkus, T-bone and himself," read one tweet.
"Fremont / Timothy Weisberg, also known as T-bone, is very cold, right now he is warming up in the office quietly reading the newspaper," read another.
'They're things that make you reflect on your life'
The stories so moved Hohlbein that he chose to spend an entire month living at the Tent City 3 homeless encampment. Every night for a whole month, he slept on milk crates inside one of the community tents, as all newcomers are required to do.
"They're asking these 95 people to live in harsh conditions and do it in a way that's functioning," he said. "The emotional drama, I think, would be too much for most people. There is a remarkable quality that comes out of people (in such conditions)."
It was cold, windy and trying, but Hohlbein said he eventually became used to the conditions: "Sleeping on upside-down milk crates with just a few blankets on top of them was surprisingly comfortable."
"I'm certainly entrenched in my little life, but it has made me question some things," he said. He added his views on the homeless have completely changed."
"Before I had any of those experiences — I think this is one of those things we've adopted to make it easier on ourselves — I used to say, 'Why don't they just sleep in a shelter?'"
Hohlbein said he has learned there are a number of factors that keep people away from shelters, including bedbugs, claustrophobia and a desire to avoid drugs and alcohol.
"The problem (of homelessness) is so big that we've created coping mechanisms," he said. "It's against human nature."
Hohlbein realizes staying voluntarily at Tent City isn't something most people would opt to do. But he hopes the stories he shares on the Homeless in Seattle page will compel others to take small steps.
"The point of the site is just to say, look, just start a conversation with somebody," he said. "Most people who are homeless feel invisible, you know. At a minimum, stop and say, 'Hello.' Look into their eyes, and say, 'Hello,' and, 'How are you?'
"And then if they ask you for money, you can say, 'I don't have any money I can give you, but I just wanted to see how you are.'"
The Homeless in Seattle page has sparked other endeavors for Hohlbein. With the help of The Town Theatre, Hohlbein is working to help homeless musicians play at venues to earn money. A grant writer is helping him develop a nonprofit group to serve the homeless. And Hohlbein runs a book club that aims to bridge the gap of understanding between its housed and homeless members.
But he says his work isn't just about giving; he has gained from his new friends as well.
"I certainly see the other end of the spectrum for the homeless," he said. "A lot of them are living in a freer way. They're suffering, for sure. The health care is horrendous, for example … But at the same time, they're playing music. There's a lot of discussion, communing.
"They're things that make you reflect on your life as you sit up in your office."
In one world are the wealthy clients for whom the Seattle architect designs custom homes.
In the other world are those without homes who sleep in doorways and on park benches.
"It's kind of a strange back-and-forth," he said.
In the past year, Hohlbein has found himself increasingly drawn to the world of the homeless — so much so that the 53-year-old builder is determined to knock down the invisible wall that separates the two worlds.
A life-changing encounter
Hohlbein's latest journey began one early morning 10 months ago when a pair of shopping carts greeted him outside his Fremont office.
"One was just stacked with painting, canvasses. The other had supplies, and a man sleeping underneath," he said.
He brought the man a cup of coffee, and offered to let him use the bathroom in his office.
"So he did that, and went back out and started sweeping," he said. The man wanted to leave clean the space he had occupied.
Several hours later, the man returned.
"He told me he wanted to read a story he had written for a children's book he wants to publish," Hohlbein said.
 Chiaka is seen sweeping in this photo taken by Rex Hohlbein. View more photos of Chiaka >>> |
"It got to a point where it made me cry," said Hohlbein. "Next thing you knew, I said if he helped me, we would clean up the storage shed next to my office."
For the next three months, the man, whom Hohlbein came to know as Chiaka, lived in the shed and spent his days painting.
"He would do art somewhere in the city, come back and check in," said Hohlbein. He eventually set up a Facebook page for the man who was fast becoming his friend.
It was that Facebook page, which featured Chiaka's paintings, that caught the eye of the man's daughters in Pittsburgh. They had not spoken in more than 10 years, but once Chiaka's family learned of his troubles, they bought him a plane ticket home.
"He's now living with his father," said Hohlbein.
'Baby steps. The next thing you know, you're there'
The unexpected friendship sparked something inside Hohlbein, who began opening himself — and his office — to the homeless around Fremont.
"(I) just tried to make eye contact and say hello," he said. "If you're out and about, you just get to meet people. The more you get to know somebody, the easier it is to talk to them the next time. And maybe you get to meet one of their friends."
Within weeks, Hohlbein's office became a resting stop for the homeless. Nowadays, visitors come by daily.
"Baby steps. The next thing you know, you're there," he said. "People come in, sleep on the floors, spend the day doing crossword puzzles in the library...use the bathroom regularly, computer, phone. People send mail here."
Hohlbein's new connections inspired him to create a Facebook page titled Homeless in Seattle. He began taking photographs of his visitors and posting snippets of their stories on the page.
"I started to know more about them, and out of those encounters came stories. And the stories, to me, were fascinating," he said. "The thing about meeting someone who's homeless or from a different country or of a much different age — I find myself hanging on every word, because their life experience is radically different from my life experience."
Hohlbein recently also set up a Twitter account — @homelessSeattle — to give his visitors a voice. He urges them to tweet about whatever their heart's desire, from their life struggles to reflections on daily life.
"Fremont / Randy Kennedy called about storing sheets of plywood, he is building some rain-protection for Dinkus, T-bone and himself," read one tweet.
"Fremont / Timothy Weisberg, also known as T-bone, is very cold, right now he is warming up in the office quietly reading the newspaper," read another.
'They're things that make you reflect on your life'
The stories so moved Hohlbein that he chose to spend an entire month living at the Tent City 3 homeless encampment. Every night for a whole month, he slept on milk crates inside one of the community tents, as all newcomers are required to do.
"They're asking these 95 people to live in harsh conditions and do it in a way that's functioning," he said. "The emotional drama, I think, would be too much for most people. There is a remarkable quality that comes out of people (in such conditions)."
"I'm certainly entrenched in my little life, but it has made me question some things," he said. He added his views on the homeless have completely changed."
"Before I had any of those experiences — I think this is one of those things we've adopted to make it easier on ourselves — I used to say, 'Why don't they just sleep in a shelter?'"
Hohlbein said he has learned there are a number of factors that keep people away from shelters, including bedbugs, claustrophobia and a desire to avoid drugs and alcohol.
"The problem (of homelessness) is so big that we've created coping mechanisms," he said. "It's against human nature."
Hohlbein realizes staying voluntarily at Tent City isn't something most people would opt to do. But he hopes the stories he shares on the Homeless in Seattle page will compel others to take small steps.
"The point of the site is just to say, look, just start a conversation with somebody," he said. "Most people who are homeless feel invisible, you know. At a minimum, stop and say, 'Hello.' Look into their eyes, and say, 'Hello,' and, 'How are you?'
"And then if they ask you for money, you can say, 'I don't have any money I can give you, but I just wanted to see how you are.'"
The Homeless in Seattle page has sparked other endeavors for Hohlbein. With the help of The Town Theatre, Hohlbein is working to help homeless musicians play at venues to earn money. A grant writer is helping him develop a nonprofit group to serve the homeless. And Hohlbein runs a book club that aims to bridge the gap of understanding between its housed and homeless members.
But he says his work isn't just about giving; he has gained from his new friends as well.
"I certainly see the other end of the spectrum for the homeless," he said. "A lot of them are living in a freer way. They're suffering, for sure. The health care is horrendous, for example … But at the same time, they're playing music. There's a lot of discussion, communing.
"They're things that make you reflect on your life as you sit up in your office."
