The parks outside the Soldiers Memorial Military Museum fill with people walking in the sun, eating lunch with friends or just passing through; almost all of them are experiencing homelessness. Kevin, a 33 year old St. Louis native, uses the park to meet up with other people and friends. After a bit of talking someone hands Kevin a bag of spice, a synthetic cannabinoid. He sits on the sidewalk to roll it into a joint and starts smoking it. As he smoked the already smaller man shrunk into himself forming a poorly shaped ball, leaning away from the park and his friends. 

“You name five pills, and over my [lifetime], I’ve taken probably half of them,” Kevin said. 

But his addiction didn’t start here.  

“When I was a kid, my mom took me down to [Barnes Jewish Hospital], because I was getting in trouble,” Kevin said. “They started me on all kinds of pills. They started my life of addiction.” 

Kevin was prescribed a variety of addictive medications despite his young age in hopes that it would control his ‘bad behavior.’ It didn’t. He got addicted to his medications and eventually his tolerance increased and his medications didn’t get him high enough. So, he turned to stealing to buy drugs. 

His addiction led him to his first felony charges at 18: stealing a controlled substance, second-degree burglary and theft of over $500. His lawyer was able to get his sentence down to two years for each charge served concurrently, but the damage was done.

“When I was in prison I used to be around the old heads, and they used to [say] the best thing you’re ever gonna [experienced in life] is shooting meth,” Kevin said. “I ended up shooting meth after [that], and it was. It was like going down a hill on a roller coaster. I can’t not get high. It’s like pulling teeth to try to stop. I can’t do it.”

He was released from prison before he served his full two years but returned just a few years later for another charge.  

“Every time I’d get out, they’d drop me back off downtown at the bus station,” Kevin said. “I’ve always been homeless when I’d get back out. I don’t have anything because it’ll get stolen. I got a blanket over there, but I don’t know if it’s going to be there by tonight and there ain’t nothing I can do about it.”

Systems designed to help homeless people, such as shelters and low-cost housing often exclude Kevin because of his criminal record, not to mention employers who won’t hire him.

“I gave up on trying to find a job,” Kevin said. “Everyone said absolutely no because they do everything online now. I went to all the restaurants on Washington [Ave.] and went up to Clayton [road] and still couldn’t get any job. I went to at least 15 restaurants and didn’t even get one ‘possible.’”