Vincent, 71

'A Happy Childhood'

“I had a happy childhood. I don’t remember anything bad. I think things went well. I had two sisters, an older brother. My dad retired as a jet engine specialist. When he retired, he was working on F-16s. When I was young, I remember him as quite loving and appreciative of the family, taking us hunting and on vacations once a year to Colorado, where he was from. My mom is from Monte Vista, my dad is from Del Norte.

My mom was very loving, had long red hair to her waist and freckles everywhere. She was a hell of a cook – incredible fried chicken, green chile, red chile, the whole works. She’d make biscuits in the morning, tortillas in the afternoon and then once a week she’d make bread, and that would be the bread for the whole week. It was wonderful when the whole house smelled like bread.

I went to Judge Memorial High School. I was an altar boy at the cathedral. I used to know the Creed in Latin. My senior year at Judge, I got thrown out and went to East High School. I graduated. I went to the University of Utah. I got an associate degree in history and a Bachelor’s of Science in biology. I ended up with biology because I took care of [lab] animals. I used to work in the vivarium when I was a student – mouse cages and things like that. I eventually ended up working with primates.

I had a house forever and ever. But then we ended up selling it. It was my mother’s house. I took care of my mom and dad for a long time. I stopped working to take care of my dad. I was there for nine years taking care of him and five years for my mom. They were old and dying, had Alzheimer’s and all these things, falling apart physically and mentally.

We sold the house. I think I got $60,000 for my share. And I lived on that for several years, did a little traveling, did this and that, and then I kind of just ended up with nothing. I ended up homeless. I was homeless for about four years. I had nowhere to go. Luckily, I have a vehicle, and I could stay in that.

In the long run, just be yourself. The more you’re yourself, the better. Don’t make up lies. I believe as long as you tell the truth, it all kind of pieces together like brickwork.”

Photograph and story documented by Stephen Speckman.