Al Barrera’s slurred words are difficult to understand at first, but he carries a certain charm that progressively overrides that minor impediment. Lines of wrinkles embellish his deep-set hazel eyes. His under bite reveals his crooked bottom teeth, and fresh stubble peppers his leathered face. A trucker hat sits pressed on his head, partially hiding the wild wisps of his curly grey hair. Yet what’s most noticeable about Barrera, who is 58, is the unadulterated enthusiasm he relays, whether he is recalling the alcoholism that led him to the streets, the drug dealing that briefly kept him off the streets or his spending his nights under the Hermosa Beach pier for nearly 30 years. He is not enthusiastic about the past, but he appears to have made his peace with the present.
— Esther Kang
In his own words:
It started on January 7, 1954 when I was born in Torrance Memorial. My parents were always into God, so from an early age I always loved God. I took all these classes, and then all of a sudden I just started screwing up. Drinking too much. Then it became a haze because I turned into a real heavy alcoholic, but I’m not so bad now. That took me to the streets. Alcohol is the gateway drug. You start drinking and all of a sudden you’re always drunk and you say, I need something stronger, you know? I tried weed but it was mellow, I was like, this ain’t good enough. I OD’ed maybe 10 times. I got off the streets from selling weed in Hermosa Beach – I did that for years. And I started selling coke. I was just trying to keep myself off the streets…. The beach has a tendency – the surfing, the girls – it hooks you bad. But you also see people on the sand working real hard and so…
I’m doing better. You know, you see a lot of homeless people who are younger, like in their 20s and stuff, and you don’t want to die alone, that’s for damn sure. My last girlfriend died under my arms, underneath the pier. She slammed down a fifth, just like that. It was about three years ago. I think it’s hard to let somebody in because you always think they’re gonna leave you, you know what I mean? I don’t like to be alone.
I’m not saying that I might just die on the streets, but they like me down here. The police bought me a brand new guitar. I can play the guitar pretty decent. What happens is, a lot of times I show up at car accidents before they do. This one time, a lady and her baby were trying to cross PCH and these cars just ignored her and so I stopped the cars and let the lady go. I do a lot of stupid little [things] trying to help people out. I don’t know if it was because of that. I have a pretty good reputation. I’ve got more people who love me than hate me.
I’ve been on the streets for about 30 years. I sleep underneath the pier. We’re like vagabonds. Everybody takes it day by day. I know I’ll be around a year from now.
My goal is to be a good human being. Just because you’re homeless doesn’t mean your morals are dead. I still believe that you should treat everyone as you want them to treat you. And if they’re bad to you, it doesn’t mean you have to be bad back to them. Just turn the other cheek. Jesus goes, if you’re freezing and they’re freezing and they ask you to give them your coat, just give it to them. It’s better to give it to them than to lose your life over a stupid coat.
