Meet Scott.

Every day, perhaps ten thousand (twenty thousand?) people drive by Scott's home. But none of them see it, because Scott lives underneath the expressway that they are driving on.

He told me he'd moved here from another location only recently, but later I learned that recently was five or six years ago. Scott's knee was badly hurt when he was stuck by a taxi cab, and even with his brace on he cannot walk very well. He uses a bicycle to get around, built from parts he scrounged, and the I-beams between which he lives are filled with other discarded bike parts that he hopes to straighten out and make useable.

Things are not like they were for the homeless, he told me. The younger ones have no respect for how things are done.