Panhandlers Feeling Effects Of Staggering Economy

WARNING: VIDEO CONTAINS EXPLICIT LANGUAGE

Douglas Belanger is working overtime in front of the Tim Horton’s at Adelaide and Sheppard, opening doors for those in need of a caffeine fix while holding out a nearly empty coffee cup that he hopes to fill with enough loose change for a square meal. 

On this cold, drizzly weekday morning, his efforts are being largely ignored by the throngs of jaded investors and assorted business people who shuffle past with pale faces and empty eyes after witnessing, and absorbing, a staggering stretch of market losses — the effects of which have wormed their way from the mammoth skyscrapers that paint the downtown skyline, down to the maze of streets below where the scurrying game of survival takes place on a daily basis.

As Belanger knows all too well, the streets are cold, and they feel even colder in the abysmal black shadows cast by the financial district’s towering institutions — shadows that can seemingly swallow a person whole. 

But it’s not just the approach of winter or the lack of sunlight that has Belanger feeling a chill in his road-weary bones these days.  Like many who, by choice or otherwise, attempt to make a living on the streets through panhandling, busking, or washing windshields, the already-struggling former iron worker is now facing an even bleaker reality.  What used to be prime real estate in the panhandling world is slowly drying up.

“I notice a lot of people don’t have the same spirits since a couple of weeks ago when the bottom fell out of the stock market,” he admits.  “You get some crusty people for sure.”

“You’ve got to work longer hours now.  I’m not greedy or nothing, I’m just trying to make enough to eat because on assistance you make $206 a month, if you get a place you get $300 a month for a place.  Try finding a place for $300.”

Instead he sleeps out front of the popular donut and coffee shop, and hopes to run into familiar faces that haven’t let market woes erode their sense of generosity. 

“I have a lot of regulars, but it kind of fluctuates.  It takes a while to build up clientele, the same with any business.”

Like many panhandlers in the area, he fondly recalls more prosperous days when the markets were thriving and people seemed more than willing to throw him a few bucks. 

“Usually I could make $100 a day on a good day, give or take.  Not now, (but) I still open the door and still say ‘good morning’, and sometimes people surprise you.” 

“They might be a millionaire driving a Bentley and they won’t give you a dime.  The next fella comes along in a Chevette and gives you a five dollar bill.  It’s funny how that works.  The lower class helps the lower class.”

Louis has been pandhandling in the Financial District for the past 10 years, and like Belanger, he’s seen a change in the collective attitude in the area — one that he believes coincides with a tough run at stock markets in Toronto and throughout the world.

“They’re not giving as much because of the stock market,” he asserts.  “People are hesitant to give nowadays because of that.  We’re trying to get food and rent money and it’s a lot harder than before.  People are a little bit more bitter, and colder.  People I know who used to give before, they’re not giving any more.  I guess they lost money in the stock market.

“This is the worst I’ve seen it,” he adds.  “It’s hard to explain, I’ve had a couple guys who used to talk with me, and they don’t want to talk anymore because I guess they’re in a depression with their stock markets.  It’s crazy. 

Huddled in an abandoned store front stoop on Queen West, Terry is playing the guitar with gusto when I approach him.  He isn’t a panhandler, he stresses, and never begs for money.  But he does rely on the generosity of others to get by.  He’s been busking for 12 years and admits he’s noticed a slow down lately.

“It affects everybody, from the guy who’s making the most money to the guy who’s making the least money.  It’s like a trickle down type thing.  If they’re not making as much money they’re not dropping as much money.  People are depressed, angry, you can literally see it, like when it went downhill with the U.S. stocks, you could literally see it.  People look tired, people look fed up, worried, concerned.

“There’s no security anymore.  Those people work really hard and they lose it all.  They invest in stocks and think that it’s going to be good, and it ends up falling through.”

Across the street, James is sitting at what used to be the big money-making corner at Queen and John.  He’s been travelling across the country, and sees the same thing everywhere he goes.  People are tightening the hatches and those who used to freely toss loose change his way, are now gripping it tighter than ever. 

“It used to be that you could make $100 in a day, but now I’m lucky to make $20, or $30.  It’s really affected the entire nation right now.”