Sunk in an old armchair, Melvin Gries, a homeless 35-year-old, fixes his gaze on the old TV in front of him. A small plastic grocery bag containing four extra T-shirts rests on his lap; it is one of his few possessions.

“I’m a survivor. That’s what I keep telling myself every day,” he said. “That’s what it’s all about — survival and trying to figure out what I’m going to do next.”

Gries returned to Ames after losing his job at the Super Target in Mason City. He has turned to the Emergency Residence Project home, 225 S. Kellogg in Ames, for shelter until he receives his “disabilities.” Then he hopes to find somewhere to live.

“I wish I didn’t have to stay here [at the shelter], but I know it’s here and right now I need it,” he said.

Gries has received clean, washed clothes and has taken a shower since his arrival at the Emergency Residential home. “It’s only been a few days,” he said.

Gries is just one of many homeless people who live day to day. He said his main concern right now is the cold weather.

Vic Moss, a social worker who has spent the past 10 years working at the Emergency Residence Project home, said Gries is a typical picture of individuals who show up at the shelter.

There are 16 beds at the Emergency Residence Project, which is an old house used for temporary shelter. Moss, who spends about four to five nights a week at the home, said around 14 beds are filled each night.

“During my stay, I have seen over 3,000 homeless people at the shelter,” Moss said. “But I know that numbers have little meaning unless they’re put with faces.”

Gries said he first was placed into a foster home to escape his verbally, physically and sexually abusive parents. He said he endured verbal abuse and other mistreatments at 11 different foster homes before deciding to live on his own at the age of 17.

He said his past experiences erodes his faith in others.

“I trust a few people,” he said. “But I have a hard time, too.”

Gries said he tried to finish high school while working full time, but it proved to be too much. After eventually dropping out, life didn’t improve from there.

At the age of 19, Gries was living under a bridge in Des Moines.

“I had friends that I could have lived with, but they were into LSD and stuff or I would’ve stayed with them. I used their shower sometimes,” Gries said.

Moss’ research and statistics indicate that the average person entering the shelter home is a single, 37-year-old Caucasian male with a high school education. The age range of the homeless, however, extends from birth to 80 years.

“Last year we dealt with 1,155 people,” Moss said. “About 500 were homeless; the rest were facing evictions. It’s the grim story that really isn’t being addressed by our society.”

Moss estimated about half of these people were passing through town but said some who live in the Ames area are homeless. “The majority, by far, [of the people that come to the shelter] are people from Story County,” Moss said.

Moss said although he knows of homeless people, their existence often is overlooked. He said they live in abandoned houses and factories, in vehicles or along rivers.

“It’s hard to find them. It’s hard to count people who are homeless,” Moss said. “Most of them stay pretty well hidden.”

Moss said at least two families have lived in their vehicles and used the bathroom facilities at Bandshell Park in Ames. He also said a couple of families presently camp out beside the Boone River.

“A friend of mine saw them when he was hiking. He knew they were homeless because they had a clothesline strung out between two trees with laundry on it,” Moss said.

He added that at least two or three people have been living on Ames’ streets for the past few years.

Moss said he knows of one man who currently lives beneath a bridge near Save U More grocery store and that others make their homes beside Squaw Creek.

At the creek, Moss said, one man lives in a tent, and another has built himself a small shack lined with minimal scraps of insulation.

According to Moss’ statistics, there have been three homeless deaths in Ames. “It’s a life-and-death situation for these people — especially in this weather,” Moss said.

Homelessness clearly drains its victims.

Gries is bone thin at 6-feet tall and just 115 pounds. His skin is pulled tight against his cheekbones, and his bluish eyes are small and glassy. He rubs them a lot, nervously, with shaking hands.

“I’d like to settle down and not have to worry about where I’m going to stay tonight … I’d like to stay clean,” Gries said.

Gries said he suffers from alcoholism and depression.

Moss said about 10 percent of the people at the shelter are inflicted with some kind of severe disability.

“The majority of them don’t fall into that category, and yet they have some kind of disability,” Moss said. “They may not be diagnosable as mentally retarded, yet they have difficulties in functioning.”

Moss said most of the serious cases are paranoid schizophrenics. “It’s just a complete disassociation with reality. They have this belief that someone is after them or chasing them … or that someone is directing signals to their brain. It really gets pretty bizarre,” he said.

Some people who stay at the shelter have innate abilities and even extraordinary intelligence, Moss said.

“I have seen some people that are extremely gifted in some ways, but severely impaired in other ways,” he said.

He cited an example of one man who had been a psychiatrist and a respected professional until he became mentally ill following a traumatic experience.

Moss also mentioned a geophysicist who appeared to lead a normal, family-oriented life until uncontrollable voices took over his mind and body.

Some people like Gries grew up in institutions and did not receive proper guidance. Moss said he knew a man named Charlie, who was left on his own in the eighth grade after the death of his mother. He said Charlie lived under a U.S. Highway 30 bridge in Ames.

Moss said instances such as Charlie’s aren’t uncommon.

“There’s a lot of people that need more help than they’re getting; if they did have it, they might be quite productive,” Moss said.

He said Charlie appeared to have functional difficulties and had spent 10 years in jail for car theft. Since then, Moss said, Charlie seems to have turned over a new leaf.

“Charlie is a good example of a homeless person that, with a little bit of help, could get out of the situation,” he said.

Other disorders affecting the homeless include manic depression or mental disabilities, which often result in difficulty maintaining a job.

“I have alcohol problems,” Gries admitted. “I still relapse. I try my hardest. I know it doesn’t help my depression.”

Gries said his depression turned serious when his fianc‚e died less than a month before their wedding date. He has been hospitalized numerous times since.

“I pray for guidance,” Gries said, “I pray for all of the other people who are worse off than I am — some people are outside right now.”

“I pray for my family every day. I don’t know what good it does, but I do it anyway,” he added.

Although it is helpful, the home is not an answer to the homeless problem — it’s merely a symptom, Moss said.

“Some people just come overnight; others stay longer. We have a two-week limit that’s usually enforced for single people,” he said. “Families usually are allowed to stay longer. But on average, people usually stay about a week.”

Moss said society comprehends little about homelessness.

“There’s so much misunderstanding in the system about this issue,” he said.

Gries isn’t dangerous. He isn’t crazy or even scary; he appears to be a man with a huge heart, a nightmarish past and almost no one to turn to for help.

“Ninety percent of the guys here are nice guys,” Moss said. “There’s everything from saints to scoundrels, and most of them are somewhere in between. Most of them are not a threat to anybody but themselves.”