As Portland braces for freezing temperatures by opening emergency shelters, Beaverton City Councilors are working to criminalize sleeping in a vehicle parked on the street.



At Tuesday's council meeting, Beaverton leaders considered an ordinance to ban camping - defined as "establishing or maintaining a temporary place to live" - in cars or RVs along public roadways.



"Over the last few months ... we have seen an increase in camping in the public right of way, specifically and mostly with RVs and trailers," Lt. Keith Welch told the Council. "We've had complaints of overflow of trash, disturbances and some general unease by folks in the area."



He mentioned four sites where between four and 15 vehicles are parked in clusters.



Under the ordinance, Welch said police policy would give people a 24-hour warning to move. If they don't, police could impound a vehicle. Subsequent contacts could lead to an arrest.



But Councilor Betty Bode was having none of it.



She questioned why the city was looking for a litigious solution "instead of really looking at the fact we are growing a population that has more poverty than we've ever seen before."



She saw no reason for "fining and scaring people who are already pretty well down and out." She also questioned the assumption that these people "choose" to live in this way.



"It's got to be tough and terrible," Bode said. "Have you all ever just decided, like tonight, let's just all go sit out and sleep in our cars? You know how cold that is?"



If the councilors had asked any of the people sleeping in a vehicle near the intersection of SW Western Avenue and SW Fifth Street, they would confirm - it's cold and uncomfortable. They aren't here because they want to be, they've simply run out of options.



Last year, the house Rosa McLain, 52, was renting in Portland was sold. She and her roommate would need to live out of her Subaru for just a few weeks until an apartment she had lined up became available.



On Nov. 12, 2016, the day before she said she would sign her new lease, they got caught in a crowd protesting the election of Donald Trump. McLain was driving across the Morrison Bridge when a 14-year-old shot at a protester and a bullet shattered McLain's car window, grazing her head.



"That ruined us," McLain said, sobbing as she told her story. "We didn't make it to our appointment, so she gave our apartment away. The snow came and the ice, and I had two windows broken out of my car. ... We ended up using every penny and borrowing out our butts from everybody we knew just to survive through the winter."



Her ex-husband bought her a 2004 travel trailer to get her off the streets, but she can't find a place to park it.



"I've looked from St. Helens all the way to 205th in Sandy to Forest Grove to Jantzen Beach," she said. "They want 2010 (models) or newer, or it's a senior park, or they want first, last and deposit."



Those I spoke to had gotten RVs or trailers as a last resort before utter homelessness. Most have a source of income, whether it's disability, alimony, Social Security or a job. The money may be enough to keep a gym membership for showers or get an occasional hotel room, but it's not enough for an apartment or RV parking space.



Some came to Beaverton after Portland cracked down on RVs illegally parked on city streets. Others, like Josh Kelvin, are locals.



Since May, Kelvin, 35, has been living in a trailer with his wife, Kelly, and three kids, ages 10, 14 and 16. Kelly works full-time as a certified nursing assistant and for years they lived in an apartment just a half-mile away. The rent, which he said started at $745 when they moved in, had risen to $1,145 when they were evicted for missing a payment.



He said his family is waiting on a tax refund to pay for a move.



"There is no saving when you're in a situation like this," he said. "Literally, you have to pay for your food by the day and everything gets really expensive. You've got to put fuel in this. ... There's no extra money anywhere and no help."



He said he's embarrassed about the trash that's accumulated under a tarp next to his trailer, but he doesn't have a way to get rid of it. If they use a dumpster from a nearby business, they'll be cited for theft of services. The city won't provide garbage pickup, even if they offer to pay, because officials don't want to encourage more RVs.



Then the City Council complains about the garbage. It's a Catch 22.



As we talk, a woman walked up holding out a gift bag. It was a Secret Santa gift, she said, and she wanted to pay it forward. Kelvin thanked her and opened it: a set of hand creams. The gesture was kind, but that sort of thing makes Kelvin uncomfortable. Something similar happened when his family was featured in a Portland Tribune article a few months ago.



"It's like my family became people's charity projects for a day," he said. Kids came by working on school assignments on homelessness. "And I wasn't a jerk, I would answer their questions. That's also something I've had to accept out here. ... I don't really know what to say. I don't want to be a spokesperson. I want to be in a house."



If Beaverton would permit overnight parking on a city-owned lot, people I spoke to said they'd contribute to the costs.



"We'll pay to have a Honey Bucket brought out," McLain said. "We'll pay for garbage services."



Beaverton has a single overnight shelter, open only on Thursdays, which doesn't allow children. The wait lists for affordable housing are years long.



More than 1,500 homeless students attend Beaverton School District.



Eighty people died on Portland streets last year.



In these conditions, it's unconscionable to criminalize sleeping in vehicles without offering any alternative.



-- Samantha Swindler

@editorswindler / 503-294-4031

sswindler@oregonian.com