Colorado Springs Longest Night vigil remembers lives lost to homelessness

One man, known for his wide-brimmed black hat and 8-inch cross necklace ever-present on his chest, died just a few days ago.

Two others perished several weeks ago along West Colorado Avenue, having possibly succumbed to the cold.

And one woman died a month after starting her own street newspaper despite being homeless herself.

To each name, scores of people on Thursday chanted, "We remember."

Holding vigil on a frigid 19-degree night, roughly 75 mourners lit candles and remembered about 30 people whose lives were cut short due to homelessness. As is tradition, they did so on the longest night of the year - when the wait for dawn is longest, and when the fight for survival can be its most trying.

They typically died in lonely anonymity - their deaths unannounced, and their final breaths often alone. Not all of them were homeless in that penultimate moment. But each of their deaths appeared hastened from having spent months or years living outside.

Their struggle is a national one - the lifespan of a homeless person is between 42 and 52 years old, according to the National Coalition for the Homeless.

"There's a whole little city of disabled people down there, and they have no place to go," said Steve Handen, lamenting the city's lack of affordable housing. "In a country as rich as this, it's a scandal."

There was Howard Dodd and David Linfors, or possibly Lindsfors, two men who were found dead outside off West Colorado Avenue on separate nights in early November, said Kristy Milligan, Westside CARES' CEO.

There was Crystal Tippens, known better as Raven Canon, 41 - the fearless homeless advocate who lived on the streets herself, even while publishing the city's first newspaper made by a homeless person, for the homeless community.

Eugene Wildeman, 50, was found face down in Fountain Creek in Shooks Run Park in early December. Two men arrested at a homeless camp are accused of killing him.

And there were the last two - Cleat Schierieman and Dean Stahl - whose names were read as their ashes were buried in a community grave. They joined other people who spent their lives homeless, and who have no family to which their remains could be returned.

Schierieman lived in the Mesa House with Handen the last five years of his life - a final respite from having spent 25 years on and off the streets. And Stahl lived at the Bijou House, also having lived homeless for years.

They went in the ground with a prayer, capped by the crowd singing "Silent Night."

"Give our brother Dean and brother Cleat peaceful rest," Handen said.

Many feared the list would continue to grow Thursday night, with temperatures forecast to drop to 10 degrees.

The Springs Rescue Mission's shelter, which this week upped its capacity an extra 20 people to 320 a night, routinely has little or no available beds or sleeping mats.

Even the Salvation Army's 220-bed R.J. Montgomery facility - which has had dozens of beds open for much of the last year - has been running at or near capacity for roughly the last month, said Capt. David Kauffman, who leads the nonprofit's local chapter.

To temporarily help ease that shortage over the Christmas weekend, Kauffman said he plans to open the 505 S. Weber St. shelter on Saturday and Sunday nights, from 5 p.m. to 9 a.m. It can accommodate 150 people.

Often, there appears "something off with Colorado Springs," because the larger public doesn't understand the gravity of its homeless crisis, lamented Trig Bundgaard, who gave the evening's address.

"I would love to live in a city where we don't read names anymore," said Bundgaard, who helps lead the Coalition for Compassion and Action.

Paul Gabrielson agreed.

From the sea of candlelight, he rose and announced himself as homeless, too - the friend of those two men found dead off West Colorado Avenue.

The struggle to survive, he said, is all to real.

"We're all Americans, and we all deserve to be free," said Paul Gabrielson, 49. "I'm trying to say we all deserve to stay alive.