As he walked through the streets of Perth, Len suddenly reached for his keys.
Then he stopped.
“For the first time that I could remember in my life… I didn’t have any keys.”
“That’s when reality bites.”
Just hours earlier, Len had handed back the keys to his rental home.
When he was 60, a back injury forced him to stop working. As debt mounted and his mental health declined, he made the difficult decision to give up his home.
He packed a backpack, handed back the keys and walked out of the real estate office.
“I didn’t know where to go.”
It was a Friday afternoon.
“People were rushing everywhere. They all had somewhere to go. I’d nowhere to go.”
That night, Len slept behind a low wall on a strip of concrete.
In the early hours of the morning, he heard people yelling as they walked past.
“I felt very vulnerable then.”
After several days sleeping rough, Len found a Salvation Army drop-in centre where he was able to shower, wash his clothes and have a meal.
It was there that he began to understand how people survived while experiencing homelessness.
“That’s when I realised that you can live on the street… that was the beginning of living on the streets for over two years.”
Over the next two years, life was, in Len’s words, “literally going round and round in circles” – finding somewhere to sleep, somewhere to shower and somewhere to eat.
“Your life is on hold.”
“You can’t do anything if you’re homeless except survive.”
Everything changed after a social worker encouraged Len to apply for social housing.
At first, he wasn’t convinced.
“As a single man, I knew that there was a 10 year waiting list. And I just couldn’t see the point.”
But with her encouragement, Len applied for both public housing and social housing.
About six weeks later, he was offered a Housing Choices home in Perth.
“She drove me out here… I looked in the window. I liked what I saw.”
That was 16 years ago.
“I got affordable housing. Number one. Number two, I’ve got enough money to live on. Those two things were instrumental… allowing me to get on with my life.”
Today, Len spends his time creating art, speaking publicly about homelessness and social justice, and advocating for people with lived experience. Earlier this year, he married someone he had known for several years.
Looking back, Len says homelessness changed his perspective on what matters most.
“At my age, at 76, I’m happy with my relationships, with my wife, with my grandchildren, with what I do in the community, with my artwork, with interacting with people. Which is what’s important to me.”
