He has been surviving on Social Security payments and, more so, on the largess of people who have sympathized with his plight. A support group that formed while he was in prison raised tens of thousands of dollars to help with his legal fees and, after his release, to help pay for his rent and living expenses. But that fund has nearly dried up, and Mr. Lee recently contacted Ron Kim, a Democratic state assemblyman, seeking assistance in finding subsidized housing.

“He wants to live with dignity for the rest of his life,” Assemblyman Kim said.

Though in his ninth decade, Mr. Lee, a Korean immigrant who became a naturalized American citizen, is not confronting the challenges of his current circumstances with anything resembling meekness.

He is angry at the justice system for locking him up and taking so many years of his life. He is resentful toward his ex-wife, who divorced him while he was in prison. He is estranged from his surviving daughter and her family, he said. He has accused the leadership of his former church of not sufficiently coming to his defense when he was being investigated, even as the church raised about $80,000 over the years to help pay for his legal representation. And he has alienated some of his most ardent supporters.

Chris Chang, the spokesman for the support group, said the prison experience had left Mr. Lee suspicious of everyone and their motives, leaving him prone to sudden changes of heart. This unpredictability has led some of his supporters to keep their distance, friends said.