Wrapped in a sleeping bag, four feet below Chapel Hill's morning rush hour, Jose Lopez lit a cigarette and tuned his solar-powered radio to NPR.
The temperature was 20 degrees, but Lopez, who said he has lived for six years under a bridge, didn't really seem to mind. "If the cold bothered me, I'd be in the shelter," he said, claiming he has spent only about four nights in a shelter in six years.
Triangle officials estimate there are more than 2,000 homeless people on the area's streets. Though some, like Lopez, avoid the shelters, others find warmth indoors at night. But during the day, most are outside, in bitterly cold temperatures that began with the new year and are expected to continue through the weekend.
Arthur Lee, 45, a homeless man in downtown Raleigh, spends his days moving around. The constant motion serves a dual purpose: He's both looking for work and trying not to dwell on the cold.
"If I can get a job, I can get off these streets," said Lee, who moved to Raleigh from Columbia, S.C., in early December. "I am frightened at being homeless. Homelessness can become a habit. I want to stay frightened and not get comfortable."
With this week's extreme cold, most area shelters are running above capacity.
"This has been a very, very tough stretch," Bruce Storer, director of development with the Raleigh Rescue Mission downtown, said Tuesday. "It's not often that Raleigh has temperatures in the low 20s. Can you imagine sleeping outside last night?"
The homeless who find shelter overnight often spend their days at places like Cornerstone, a day center on Hargett Street in Raleigh.
Lee, with a black stocking cap on his head and layers of shirts covered by a heavy black hoodie, stood in front of the Cornerstone building Tuesday afternoon. He was trying to get a bus ticket to Cary so he could apply for a job at a Waffle House there.
Lee's day started with a walk to Wake Human Services to apply for food stamps before heading downtown to the Salvation Army to see what services the agency provides. He then crossed to the Shepherd's Table soup kitchen for lunch, before walking to the South Wilmington Street Center for a temporary identification card.
Cornerstone was not able to help him with a bus ticket but suggested that Lee try Pullen Memorial Baptist Church west of downtown, where he ultimately got the ticket and a snack pack.
"This will fill the hole in my stomach," Lee said with a short laugh, holding up a plastic bag that contained a Capri Sun juice, Lance crackers and a can of Vienna sausages. "I got to keep on laughing," he said. "If I stop and think about it too long, it's enough to cry."
At home outdoors
Lopez, 50, who lives beneath the Chapel Hill bridge, is much happier with his situation. He's proud of the three walls formed by the bridge's steel support beams. Above his bed, Lopez keeps a torn sticker of Jesus and a cutout of the Mexican flag.
Beneath the bed, the concrete drops steeply to a garden of rocks spotted with wilted plants that bloomed a bright red just a few months ago. Bolin Creek, at the bottom, flows swiftly between sheets of ice. The only blooms on its banks are two artificial flowers planted by Lopez. The rock garden includes three sculptures and a peace symbol, crafted by Lopez from rocks he found in the creek.
Lopez shares the underbelly of the bridge with another man, Benito Escobedo, who also seemed unfazed by the cold. Pointing to homes across the creek, Escobedo said, "They probably keep their homes too warm, and might get sick. The air out here is cold, but it's also crisp and alive."
About two years ago, Lopez was cited for trespassing under the bridge and put on probation for a year, he said. He moved to the nearby woods for that year, then moved back under the bridge. Lopez and Escobedo said the police have left them alone recently because they don't party, don't litter and don't burn fires to cook or to stay warm.
"I think it's cleaner under the bridge now than when we moved here," Escobedo said.
Lopez came to California in 1979 and worked in the fields. Soon, he fell into a cycle of drug addiction.
"I lost several years of my life addicted to drugs and alcohol. I'd chase drugs ... then I'd chase money ... then I'd blow it all on drugs again," he said. "I'm much more at peace now."
He eventually made his way to North Carolina, where he had family.
As he does almost every day, Lopez walked Tuesday morning to a community center for a shower, to a convenience store for coffee, to a homeless shelter for lunch, then to Davis Library at UNC to read and study.
"I want to learn what it is to be human," said Lopez, who reads books on religion and history and loves to use the computers there for research.
As night all-too-quickly began to fall Tuesday, Lopez walked from campus back to the homeless shelter for dinner.
Then, it was back under the bridge. "Back to my house," Lopez said.
