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heather
eidson / staff photographer StreetWise founder Judd Lofchie
(right) laughs with Dr. Earl Lowry and five-year-old Austin Dickson as the youngster
donates money to the Salvation Army as the two men take part in the Aurora Rotary Club's
community-service project to collect funds on the busiest shopping day of the year Friday
in front of the Wal-Mart on West Galena Boulevard in Aurora Friday. |
By Heather Gillers
Staff
Writer
Judd Lofchie's dream came true on a summer day
13 years ago at the corner of
He was driving by the busy
Today that's a common occurrence.
Weary-looking men and women hawk the weekly broadsheet across the city. Stop to chat with
a vendor, and you may learn that she is homeless or that he is saving for a security
deposit on an apartment.
But that August day in 1992, the first issue
of StreetWise hit the streets. Lofchie remembers it vividly.
"It was just so wild to see the thing
that we worked on for easily two years ... the thousands of hours we put in actually
manifested," he said. "There's a guy selling our paper."
A slim, soft-spoken
His father, a restaurant owner, made a point
of hiring the disabled and the needy. Washing dishes side-by-side with his dad's employees
taught Lofchie a lesson that would become the philosophy of StreetWise.
"We, as a society, need to make it a
priority to hire people ... who need it really bad," he says, "because they need
a break, and sometimes, all they need is a break."
Every Wednesday morning, 150 people who need a
break congregate at the entrance to the StreetWise offices on a street lined with meat and
fish retailers about seven blocks west of
They are war veterans and ex-offenders, former
addicts and former college students. In Lofchie's words, "they're just people without
homes."
They buy a stack of papers at 35 cents apiece
and, then, rain or shine, snow or sleet, wind or gale, they fan out to assigned corners
around downtown, and in neighborhoods across the city to hawk their wares to commuters.
The paper's $1 retail price means vendors make
an average of $56 a day enough to afford an occasional room for the night and
eventually a security deposit on an apartment. Some vendors it's hard to say how
many are able to parlay the work experience into another job.
"You realize 'Hey, it's not just about
selling papers,'" says Greg Pritchett, StreetWise's distribution manager. "'I
can put together a resume.'"
Pritchett, himself a former vendor, carefully
keeps track of his past employees' successes. Some vendors get jobs with the Chicago
Transit Authority. Others go to work for Walgreens.
"I like to say God sent a message to Judd
Lofchie," Pritchett says.
A beggar for the beggars
Lofchie was a young lawyer in
When Lofchie moved to
"People have called me a beggar for the
beggars," he says, "because I'm always asking for money for the homeless."
Lofchie, usually articulate, grows silent when
asked why he helps the needy. To him the answer is obvious.
"People who can help other people
should," he says finally.
By the time Lofchie learned about a paper sold
by
He and Casey Covganka, a friend who sold
advertisements at a
Word travels fast among
A national model
"StreetWise has always been considered one of the model street newspapers," said
Michael Stoops, director the Washington, D.C.-based National Coalition for the Homeless.
Stoops runs the North American Street
Newspaper Association, an organization Lofchie helped start in
StreetWise gets calls "all the
time," Lofchie says, from people eager to start new ones. Editors there have learned
to tell callers that street papers flourish in cities where commuters use public
transportation and there is a healthy stream of foot traffic.
Business thrives, they've learned, when vendors are held to strict standards. At StreetWise, Pritchett runs a three- to six-person "quality assurance team"
Christian Science Monitor,
It's a common city scene:
Homeless men and women shuffle off ice-gripped streets into a downtown shelter and slump
down on a gritty floor to await handouts.
But this is no usual dole;
these needy have come to help themselves. Instead of nabbing a hot meal, they stuff
newspapers into their bags and head back into the cold.
These homeless are vendors
for the nonprofit newspaper StreetWise. For three years, hundreds of homeless have entered
the StreetWise office and come out taking their first steps back toward self-sufficiency.
Shouting pitches like,
"$1 keeps us employed, don't be annoyed," the paper's vendors -- at times as
many as 600 -- work the aisles of elevated trains and the curbsides outside restaurants,
department stores, and railway stations. They keep 75 cents out of every $1 paper they
sell, making on average $491 a month.
StreetWise is one of 109
street newspapers -- those sold by the homeless -- that have sprung up worldwide in the
past decade, according to the National Coalition for the Homeless in
The papers bristle with a
hard-nosed, curbside prose, a unique hybrid of social work and community newspapering.
Many of their names proclaim their spicy editorial mix of fire, wit, and angst: Mall Ratz
(
The homeless coalition is
also seeking funding for a conference on street newspapers in
But StreetWise, a biweekly
publication, is widely considered one of the leading street papers. It is the third
largest of any newspaper in
The resounding success of
StreetWise is unusual. Many such papers have folded because of mismanagement or local
opposition. Some have failed to adequately train vendors and defuse concerns that the
newspapers are just a cover for panhandling, says Michael Stoops at the homeless
coalition.
StreetWise founder Judd Lofchie says good management has been a
factor in the paper's success. But he also speculates that being in the
"People here are
generally more open and giving than people elsewhere," he says.
For vendors, street
newspapers offer a way to move from down-and-out despair toward hope and self-reliance.
"We give the homeless a way to get off a park bench and have some keys -- a place to
live and a real chance to change," Mr. Lofchie says.
For readers, the papers
open a window to life on the streets -- some of the articles are written by the homeless
-- and help tear down the barriers of mistrust and resentment between haves and
have-notes.
"Unlike most
newspapers, we have an extra pitch: By buying a newspaper, you are helping someone as well
as getting an editorial product," says editor John Ellis. "We build both
community and awareness about homelessness," he says.
Recent issues of Streetwise
carry news about public housing, holiday bargain shopping, and other topics for low- or
no-income readers. A supplement called "Street Scene" features art reviews,
cultural-event listings, and both poetry and short stories by homeless people.
Unlike commercial
newspapers, StreetWise seeks to cultivate its vendors as well as its readership. It
requires each would-be salesperson to complete a 12-session training program. Moreover, it
uses a sweeping referral service to shepherd vendors into programs for drug and alcohol
treatment, high school equivalency schooling, career counseling, and permanent housing.
"The whole thrust is
to help people get into other full-time jobs," says Mr. Ellis, situated in the
newspaper's offices at the former Looking Glass Theater.
But StreetWise recently
endured a setback. As part of an expansion drive, it teamed up last year with a social
group in the
But StreetWise measures its
success not just in new readers but in the turnabouts by its vendors. When William McBain
began selling the paper in 1993 after an eight-month prison term, he remained on the
street and used much of his income to buy liquor. Then an encounter with an elderly
customer buoyed his self-esteem.
The woman gave Mr. McBain
75 cents and dug in her pocketbook for more than a minute for the last quarter. "This
lady was so concerned about making sure that I had exactly what I deserved that I decided
it was time for me to start doing what was right," said McBain, lugging a thick stack
of StreetWise on his hip. He says he now rents a small room, seeks permanent work, and
spurns alcohol.