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final manuscript

"It was a cold and blustery Wednesday morning on February 9, 1972. The high temperature that day struggled to reach twenty-three degrees, and the relentless winds offered no retreat. It was on this very day that I was brought into the world. I have heard that I was born breech. I came into this world shoulder first. My umbilical cord was wrapped around my shoulder and my neck. When the nurses untangled me, I was still a shade of blue. I have never found out why, but I was born with no middle name. There were four people at the hospital that day. They were eagerly awaiting my arrival. One of these four people was my grandpa. When he saw me for the first time, he said, “Look at our brand new baby blue jay!” And just like that, I had my middle name. Little did I know then, the significance of this very name would later play a profound role in shaping my life's path. My grandparents were present that day because they had lovingly agreed to help raise me. My mother and father, of c...

In the beginning stages of becoming homeless

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"It was a cold and blustery Wednesday morning on February 9, 1972. The high temperature that day struggled to reach twenty-three degrees, and the relentless winds offered no retreat. It was on this very day that I was brought into the world. I have heard that I was born breech. I came into this world shoulder first. My umbilical cord was wrapped around my shoulder and my neck. When the nurses untangled me, I was still a shade of blue. I have never found out why, but I was born with no middle name. There were four people at the hospital that day. They were eagerly awaiting my arrival. One of these four people was my grandpa. When he saw me for the first time, he said, “Look at our brand new baby blue jay!” And just like that, I had my middle name. Little did I know then, the significance of this very name would later play a profound role in shaping my life's path. My grandparents were present that day because they had lovingly agreed to help raise me. My mother and father, of c...

Science.

A little science mixed with a little homelessness. Here's a little science mixed with some of my outside of the box thinking. When a human body becomes cold your brain instantly goes to work. Our brains release neurochemicals, neurotransmitters and hormones. The reason our brains do this is to help the body regulate the cold. Norepinephrine is a neurotransmitter acting as a hormone causing your body's flight or fight response to cold. Epinephrine is released as a stress reducer. A significant release of dopamine which is a pleasure chemical occurs. Serotonin is a neurotransmitter that regulates mood and is also released. Endorphins that are meant to reduce pain produced when you are cold. Your brain releases these chemicals to help relieve the body from the ankle symptoms of cold stress.  The same chemicals that are released are very similar to the chemicals that cause you to feel happy, reduce stress and feel an overall sense of comfort. An individual experiencing homelessne...

Outside the box thinking.

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"I wondered my whole life why I was given the mostly female name of Tracy. I would get made fun of in school for having such a name. It bothered me so much because of being made fun of that my teachers started to call me T.J. to help curb the bullying. This happened pretty much all throughout grade school. "Some of my early classmates would get to know me as T.J. Some who have moved away probably never even got to know my real name. "My grandpa told me a story. I am not sure if it was one of his tall tales or if it could possibly be the truth. "He told me that one night he was driving along the Platte River through a town called Tracy. He told me that he was very hungry and that he had hit a bullfrog on the highway with his car. He took this bullfrog into a local diner in the town of Tracy. "He was wondering if someone in that diner could cook the bullfrog for him. He told me as the cook came from the kitchen into the diner that he fell in love at first sight. ...

My unique gift.

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  "As I mentioned at the beginning, it was on that Wednesday afternoon in 1972 that I made my first appearance in this world. Beginning this new life, my first breath was taken as an incomplete baby. I was born with the name Tracy Gillespie. There was a man in that room awaiting my arrival. As soon as he laid eyes on me, the first words he ever spoke to me were, "Look at my new Baby Blue Jay!" That comment completed who I was to be known as. This man gave me my very first gift. He gave me my middle name. I became Tracy Jay Gillespie. This gift came from a man whom I would learn to love deeply, the man for whom I would have immense respect, the only man I would ever look up to – the man I would soon be calling my Grandpa. When I was born, I was breech. I was told that I came out shoulder first, and the umbilical cord was wrapped around my neck. I was blue when I was born, and that's why Grandpa called me a Baby Blue Jay. Not only was I born without a fully completed n...

Truth versus slang.

 1.) This first list is how some people like to address people who are experiencing homelessness.  Vagrants. Destitute. Itinerant. Outcasts. Vagabonds. Vagrants. Pillagers. Beach combers. Bums. Hobos. Beggars. Floater. Alms person. Gutter sleepers. Indigents. Bag man or lady. Dumpster divers. Winos. Street people. Backpackers. Loosers. Tree people. Invisible. Shadow creepers. 2.) This next list is who most of the people experiencing homelessness really are.  We are assaulted. We are abused.          We are neglected.   We are molested. We are raped. We are mistreated. We are left out. We are spit on. We are forgotten.  We are given away. We are Fathers. We are Mothers. We are left to die. We are hungry. We are cold. We are suffering. We are mentally ill.    We have trauma. We are ashamed. We are afraid. We are Veterans. We are addicted. We are alcoholics. We are Humans.  3.) This final list is how society makes a lot ...

988 campaign.

  St. Joseph man proposes a bill that would allow a national hotline to operate like 911. One St. Joseph man is finding ways to enhance a national resource. Tracy Gillespie, a mental health and homeless advocate in St. Joseph encountered an issue when he was trying to use the 988 hotline for a personal mental health issue. "I needed some help," said Gillespie. "My phone was deactivated because, you know, I was late on a bill, so I thought, well man, 988, you know, they can assist me." Because Gillespie's phone was deactivated for a short while, 988 wasn't a resource he could utilize, however 911 was accessible. From that point on, Gillespie realized he wanted to make the 988 hotline operate like 911. "I just emailed all the senators, the legislators, the representatives, congressmen, the governor," said Gillespie. "All of them have responded with positive responses. You know, they had no idea that 988 did not operate like 911." In an emai...

988 let down

  My name is Tracy Jay Gillespie. I live in St Joseph, Missouri. I am a mental health and homeless advocate. I've been working with individuals who are struggling for the past 6 years. I myself have struggled with mental health and homelessness. There are many resources available in my community to assist individuals in need. The mental health crisis hotline 988 is a great resource to utilize if you are experiencing a mental health crisis. With my lived experience, I have seen first hand a mental Health crisis turn into an emergency. I recently reached out to utilize this resource for myself. I was not having a mental Health crisis. However, I was quickly approaching one. I knew I needed someone to talk to about what I was experiencing. My phone had been deactivated due to late payment. I live a little over a mile away from my mental health treatment center. With no service plan on my phone I had no way to reach out to anyone. It was my understanding that the 988 clinician would...

Mental Health crisis

 Today in America, we're facing a mental health crisis. The need for mental health professionals has never been higher. Nationally, there are only 31,000 psychiatrists available to treat over 200 different mental health disorders. The state of Missouri has a population of 6.2 million, and 925,000 of those people are diagnosed with some sort of mental health disorder. A staggering 225,000 of the population suffers from a serious mental illness that affects their everyday quality of life. Over 50% of Missouri residents live with some form of untreated trauma in their lives. Even though there are 181 clinics and facilities in the state of Missouri that treat mental illness and provide trauma-informed care, unfortunately, there were 1,125 suicides recorded last year. I'm here as one of the 225,000 who has lived most of my life with an untreated serious mental illness and severe trauma. In 2024 there were 1,219 Missouri residents who took their own lives. That's one person for e...

I am going home!!

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"I was taken from the hospital as a baby to the basement of my grandparents' house on South 3rd Street. Whether it was a home or not, I will never know. My grandparents took me under their wings from day one. I am positive that my grandma introduced me to my first and only home here on earth, which was church, at a very early age. The Church began to teach me a lot about the Lord and who I am to Him. Now that I am 48 years old and I look back, this is also where I began my training. Love, fellowship, and basically family could be found at church. Learning of great leaders, learning of disciples, learning how to walk the way of the Lord impressed me. I wanted to become one of His angels. I had learned of great mansions built in heaven for those that God chooses to call home. God knows our plans even before we are born. I believe that God put me on a path of homelessness so that I would have the opportunity to be where I'm at today. Jesus said, 'Let the little children c...

1 year later.

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I apologize for not being very active the last few days and for not keeping up with the event schedule. However, I am ready to plug away again. I've already been on vacation from work for a week, and I have another week of vacation to go. I have been employed at NMPRC for one year, and I absolutely love it there. In the past year, I have been educating myself about mental illness, behaviors associated with certain diagnoses, and, of course, treatment plans, goals, objectives, and so forth. I have even been able to work on my own mental illness using some of the knowledge that I was gaining. I know that my new understanding will benefit everyone whenever I do street outreach. I started there as a technician and am now a rehabilitation associate and work therapy specialist. I am very well-liked by many at the hospital. When I went to work on my first day, I was homeless and staying in a cold weather shelter. For years, I've been able to hide my homelessness with my personality, m...

Circle

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  I  received my second COVID-19 vaccine shot, and I'd like to share my experience. The clinic was held at the Civic Arena here in St. Joseph. I went with my boss, the Executive Director of Community Missions Corporation. The clinic was designated for frontline healthcare workers, and honestly, I wasn't sure I truly belonged in that group. There were members of the Saint Joseph Fire Department, the St. Joseph Police Department, Buchanan County EMS, nurses, and many others. Over the past two years of working with the homeless, I've met quite a few people. The director of the health department was there, and I said hello after receiving my shot. I also greeted a couple of other people I recognized. Despite these connections, I still felt a bit out of place. After all, I'm just a former homeless veteran who does a lot of volunteer outreach work. However, that feeling was about to change. After getting your vaccine, you proceed to have your card scanned into the system. I t...

Last time?

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On Saturday, October 30th, 2021, I was evicted from my apartment. I had fallen two months behind on rent due to a layoff from work. Although I applied for unemployment, the funds were taking an excessively long time to be deposited into my account. Ironically, the only agency that could have potentially prevented my homelessness was my employer, but a conflict of interest prevented them from offering assistance. Having experienced homelessness for a significant portion of my life, I instinctively headed to the river. However, this time was different. I began to journal my experiences, partly as a coping mechanism and partly with the intention of sharing my reality with others, hoping to foster a better understanding of what homelessness truly entails. Would this prove too challenging even for someone as seemingly resilient and experienced as me? It is now Saturday morning, October 30th, and I sit by the river with my car packed with all my belongings. I struggle to comprehend how this ...

What a jerk?

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A few years ago, around 2015, I was homeless and walking down a street lined with older buildings. It was a fairly busy area. I noticed a man pulling grass from the foundation of one of these buildings, a building I happened to know something about. I struck up a conversation with him, asking if it was indeed the old gymnasium for Benton High School, the very school I had attended. He confirmed it was, mentioning that writings still remained on the locker room walls on the third floor. Curious, he asked how I knew this. I explained that learning the history of Saint Joseph was a hobby of mine and that I was a member of the National Museum Historical Society—which was true. I even mentioned having my own display at the Robidoux Row Museum. I also shared that I had found numerous artifacts along the Missouri River and enjoyed donating them to the museum. The man seemed quite impressed. He expressed interest in learning more about the building. I offered to use my connections to see if I ...

Thrown out!

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  My mom married her fourth husband when I was 12 years old. The man she married was an abusive alcoholic. He instantly disliked me and seemed a perfect fit for the house of hell I was living in. It appeared his main goal was to get me out of the house. His drunken verbal, mental, and emotional abuse quickly escalated into physical abuse. When we moved from that small house into a much larger house of horror, he really wanted me gone. When we first moved into the new, much larger house, my bedroom was in the basement. When I was 15 years old, he and my mother took me to the Missouri River. They told me to get out of the car, saying this is where bastards like me end up. As always, I was told how worthless I was. I remember the sun was just setting, and the temperature was really cold. I don't remember how I was dressed, but I didn't have any blankets. As they drove away, this was my very first experience being street homeless. I made my way down the rocky bank and sat there. Ev...

It had to stop!

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I was close to 16 years old. My friend Tyson and I were pretty good friends. Tyson and his brother Mike were both fighters. My stepdad Dick had been beating on me and abusing me. He was making my life pure hell. It wasn't just physical abuse but mental and emotional as well. No one really liked Dick. Even my grandmother, who was my earth angel, the most heavenly, soft-spoken, compassionate person in the world, didn't even like him. My grandma did say at one point, and I quote, "Someone needs to beat the shit out of Dick!" Now, Dick and my mom always accused me of just running the streets and doing drugs. Someone had to take the brunt of the abuse, and it was me. My friends Mike and Tyson invited me to the boxing gym. Back then, it was called the 6th Street Boxing Club. When I walked through the doors of that boxing club, it was the perfect place for me to be. The coaches were mesmerized. They wanted to know where I had boxed before. They said that no one comes into th...

A little experiment.

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Scenario One. You know someone who is about to become homeless. It is in our nature to hope and pray this person does not experience homelessness. We may even try to do what we can to prevent this from happening. Maybe we know of a resource that they haven't reached out to for assistance.  We  offer encouragement and support to someone about to experience homelessness. It is a sad situation. Scenario Two. You may know someone who has been experiencing homelessness. They are no longer homeless. You do not care how they made it out of homelessness. You may have a sense of happiness and relief that they are no longer experiencing homelessness.  We now perceive this person as a success. Certainly you would be curious as to what it was like being homeless. You may use their experience to encourage the person in scenario one. Scenario Three. You happen to see someone experiencing homelessness standing on the corner. This person appears to be dirty and is holding a sign. On thei...

News stories.

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https://www.newspressnow.com/news/local_news/social_services/man-campaigning-for-more-access-to-mental-health-hotline/article_c84d1228-924f-11ef-b84a-832e1953c75e.html https://www.newspressnow.com/news/local_news/memorial-service-honors-local-homeless-people-who-have-died/article_2b6f4296-62b9-11ec-9d73-ebed43d7f454.html https://www.newspressnow.com/news/local_news/northwest-health-ponders-next-step-with-its-downtown-location/article_bdc6721e-a66e-11ed-be86-53cdf0fc901e.html https://www.newspressnow.com/news/local_news/homeless-get-help-with-census-stimulus-funds/article_ac05ffca-99e9-11ea-876b-cb040fa92b86.html https://www.newspressnow.com/news/local_news/a-lonely-holiday-spreads-awareness/article_6abc19e4-30cc-11eb-b2d1-7bfa0183ba83.html https://www.newspressnow.com/news/local_news/path-to-homelessness-different-for-all/article_6ebaae68-d3bf-11e9-913d-d36626e6cdc0.html https://www.kq2.com/community/pay-it-forward-sheila-mendez/article_fa07291c-49b5-5183-b35d-3f31f7ffb277.html https:/...

Abuse never ends.

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  My mother abused me for as long as I can remember. Aside from being stung by hornets, my earliest memory is being switched for looking into a bird's nest. She then threw me into the shower and continued to beat me because company was coming over. This is essentially my first memory of life. My very first broken nose happened when my mother threw me backward around the age of ten. She would beat me with anything nearby. Blood and bruises were common occurrences. The abuse wasn't limited to the physical. One year, while we were walking through soybean fields chopping weeds with corn knives, my mother would beat me with a corn knife if I wasn't working fast enough. On one particular occasion, there was a farm cat I kept playing with. The soybean field was, naturally, next to a farm. My mother screamed at me for petting the cat and then hit it in the head with her corn knife. I remember watching the cat's head split open. We lived in a two-bedroom house with my mother and...