In John Anderson, San Francisco's Homeless Find Empathy

05 February 2011

By Raymond Billy
ResonateNews.com

 In the minds of many Americans, few if any cities personify the word “libertine” quite like San Francisco. A place known for its easy-going sensibilities, it was recently calculated by the federal government to spend double the national                    Courtesy Photo
The Rev. John Anderson, president and CEO of the Bay Area Rescue Mission in Richmond, Calif., was at one time homeless.average on alcohol. One website has recognized it as a tattoo enthusiast's paradise. But even in this city, where seemingly everything is permissible, the homeless population is viewed by many residents as a nuisance — if not a blight — on one of the nation's most picturesque locales.

Perhaps if the homeless weren't so visible, residents in this bastion of tolerance would be more welcoming to their presence. But visible the homeless are and have become increasingly so, according to city of San Francisco data. In a biennial survey of the local homeless population by the city — conducted solely based upon naked-eye guesstimates — San Francisco's vagrant population has risen steadily since the city to began counting them in 2005 at the behest of the federal government. Volunteers combed San Francisco last week for the 2011 installment of the homeless tally.

John Anderson — who was at one time homeless — can attest to having once looked upon the homeless with disdain. Anderson — who lives in the San Francisco suburb of Richmond, Calif. — was a yuppie in Miami during its rollicking 1980s era. Having climbed to towering career heights, Anderson had little sympathy for people who spent their days piddling around on the streets.

“I had great resentment for the homeless,” Anderson, 58, said Thursday, recalling his days on the Florida Coast. “I thought we would be better off if they just died.”

But, despite great professional success, Anderson often questioned the significance of his own life. Although he had established himself as a marquee name in the world of computer operations analysis and consulting — boasting a lucrative partnership with Exxon — he felt an internal emptiness that his accomplishments couldn't fill.

Anderson turned to the companionship of the drug culture in search of fulfillment. By the time he reached his late 20s, drug addiction had taken over his life, as he cultivated a $65,000 per year cocaine habit.

“I was a consultant for a major oil company and I thought I could afford it — and I thought I really needed it,” Anderson said.

By that time, Anderson was divorced with two daughters who he mostly saw during the summer. In despair over the direction of his life in the fall of 1982, he began to spiral further downward.

“I had no contentment and no peace,” he said. “I went on a weeklong cocaine binge to make myself feel better.”

The following week, Anderson devised a plan he hoped would turn his life around. He gave away all of his possessions, quite his job and hit the road in search of the secret to fulfillment.

“I wanted to travel and reconnect with old friends and acquaintances who were both successful and content. I wanted to know what brought contentment to their lives so that I could have it, too,” he said.

Five months into his expedition, Anderson was disappointed to learn that they were no more content than he was. Broke and ashamed, he contemplated trying to rebuild his career in San Diego, Calif. But, when he got there in November 1982, he took inventory of his situation. He weighed only 135 pounds. He had nowhere to sleep and no means of taking care of himself. He had become homeless and hopeless.

“I actually hoped that within six months, I'd be dead and no one would know or care and I would be done with this miserable, failed life,” he said. 

When Anderson left the bus station shortly after arriving in San Diego, he immediately headed for a nearby bar intending to drink away the last of his money. While there, a homeless-looking man sat next to him and began chatting with him. The man said Anderson should consider going to the San Diego Rescue Mission — an organization that assisted the poor and the homeless — for help.

“I laughed at the thought of hanging around a bunch of homeless and needy people — even though I was one myself,” he said.

But, Anderson eventually went to the mission. He said he took advantage of several of the organization's free services. He also attended the mission's chapel programs in the evenings. It was there that he began to be stirred by the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

“After hearing the message of Jesus, it became clear to me that what I had been looking for for years was Christ. He was the one who could give me contentment, fulfillment and peace,” Anderson said.

On Jan. 17, 1983, Anderson committed his life to Christ. He said he immediately experience a drastic transformation.

“As soon as I accepted Christ as my savior, God took away my desire for drugs and alcohol and I haven't been tempted since,” Anderson said. “I know it's not that way for everybody, but it certainly was for me.”

Even after he became a Christian, Anderson said he struggled with proud contempt for the poor. He said he didn't want to go through the Rescue Mission's homelessness recovery program because he thought it was beneath him.

“God really dealt with me and showed me I was no better than anyone else there,” he said. “He compelled me to go through the program and receive the discipleship it offered.”

Nearly three decades later, they call him Rev. John Anderson and he is president and CEO of the Bay Area Rescue Mission in Richmond. Under his direction, the mission has used Anderson's computer expertise to implement innovative job-training programs for the homeless. The organization has also grown from a $900,000 per year operation to a $16 million operation during his 18 years at the helm.

Even though Anderson now has empathy for the homeless, he cautions against indiscriminately giving to them.

“Unless you believe that God is telling you to give to the homeless, don't do it,” Anderson said. “They'll use the money for drugs and alcohol. Instead of giving them money, direct them to a place like a Rescue Mission where they'll be fed, given a place to sleep and hear the Gospel,” he said. “That's what changed my life and that's what we all need.”