An Addict's Almanac

by Israel Bayer

categories: Stories from the Streets, Street Papers

Published August 10, 2009 @ 07:05PM PT

Tye Doudy is the most hard hitting columnist I have ever read from the streets. Doudy writes the powerful and gripping column titled Addict's Almanac in Street Roots about life on the streets as a heroine addict. His columns have been picked up in other street papers in both the U.S. and in Europe, and stirred much debate at a grassroots level. (Publishers: Tye is waiting for your call!) 

His first of a six-part series began in August of 2008 and ran through the fall of that year. The column has fostered many emotions locally, both good and bad. In July, Doudy picked the column back up and tackles the issues of domestic violence and addiction. 

Portland is a heroine town, always has been. Doudy's column offers us an insight to a world that no journalist or Nightline special will ever be able to capture. The column is both in your face and humble, disturbing, yet masterfully woven. He is a real life Drugstore Cowboy. 

In his first column, Doudy describes meeting Ashes, a longtime dope fiend in a local Portland haunt and going back to his squat to score. 

Ashes has been on the streets a long time. He was already "old" when I first hit the dope road all those years ago. Beneath his long and tattered leather jacket and his Sisters Of Mercy T-shirt his thin frame shows the wear of the longtime dope fiend. His arms are covered in homemade tattoos and scars from past abscesses. He is somewhere in his late 30s but looks a decade older. Anybody with eyes would make him for an addict. He's about as trustworthy as a rented snake, and he is the closest thing I have to a friend at this moment.

My first question is, of course, is he holding and second, can I get him to kick down a little something. Even a rinse would set me straight and buy me some time to make a plan. No junky wants to give up any dope ever, but I have some leverage as he has no hustle and he knows I will make some money today. He supports his habit by spare changing in the transit mall. Not a sure thing, even on a good day. A real loser's gambit. Real bottom of the food chain shit. So I get him to agree to get me well as long as I take him along on whatever scheme I cook up for the day.

In order for me to get the fix, we first have to go back to the squat he shares with some other scumbags under the Jackson Street overpass. 

The column continues... 

No matter how many squats I've been in, the smell of piss and shit always takes my breath away for a moment. This is the bottom. Truly, it would be hard to fall any lower than this. Maybe dying of AIDS in a welfare hospital would be worse. Maybe.

The squats that line the freeway overpasses are like catch basins for the refuse of the city. The mentally ill, sexual deviants, illegal immigrants, wanted fugitives, hardcore drunks, prostitutes, crusty train-hopping kids, tweakers, junkies, the unlucky, and the unloved. We all have called these places home. For a night, for a week, even years for some. It's easy to fly below the radar here. No rent, no responsibility, and nothing to worry about besides where the cops are and where your next fix or your next bottle is coming from.

My next fix is coming from Ashes and he is unrolling his works from a piece of leather he had up his sleeve. "There's not much here to go around" he says, but he is willing to share a little, after he gets his, of course. I watch trembling in anticipation while he prepares his shot and as he draws up the black water from the spoon my stomach does flip flops like maybe I'm gonna puke or shit my pants. But I don't.

Ashes has no veins so he just shoves the point in his shoulder and slowly pushes down the plunger with a slight grimace of pain. "I left a good rinse for you" he says, gesturing towards his spoon. Upon examination there is a light brown residue on the spoon and in the tiny piece of cotton stuck to the bottom. 

In his bio, Doudy says that his stories are told in the hopes that others may learn from his mistakes. I would encourage anyone interested in street life and addiction to check it out.  You can keep up with the series over at the Street Roots blog.