As a child living in New York back in the 1960s and 70s, Frederick Middlestorb and his father would head out to Shea Stadium in Queens to watch the famous rags-to-riches New York Mets. Now in his 60s, he’s still able to effortlessly list all his favorite moments as if it were a movie that he plays over and over in his head, including Mobile’s Cleon Jones dropping to his knee to catch the last out in the 1969 World Series.

Fifty years later, those happy memories of sitting in the bright orange bleachers with his father are what keep him going as he contends with life on the streets.

He said he’s been homeless for about four and half years.

Most days you’ll find him walking the streets of Mobile carrying what few belongings he has in two thick plastic grocery bags. Under one arm you’ll see a bible, which also serves as a folder for other important documents, including letters from social security and, more recently, a church newsletter explaining to those disconnected from media and traditional society that a deadly virus had begun spreading throughout the population.

“It told us to be careful around other people,” Middlestrob said in his native Long Island accent while sat on an old warped bench outside the First Christian Church. “I’ve noticed more homeless people walking around without anywhere to go. Some shelters are closed and food is harder to find.”

Like many homeless people living in Mobile, Middlestorb’s regular routine has been upended by the COVID-19 pandemic. Homeless shelters have reduced capacity or closed their doors altogether, while access to food has quickly diminished as demand at foodbanks has skyrocketed in recent weeks - pushing those without a home further toward the fringes of society and the economy. While most people in the country will be able to take advantage of stimulus checks in the next week, few of those will be homeless.

"A lot of people are experiencing the COVID-19 outbreak as a series of inconveniences,” said Chris Sanders, Communications Director at Alabama Arise. “They're having to work from home. They're standing in longer lines at the grocery store. They're not getting to visit friends or attend church services or sporting events. But for many Alabamians, this pandemic is an enormous threat to their health and well-being. They're wondering when they'll get paid again, or where they'll get their next meal, or where they'll sleep tonight. And they have no idea how in the world they'd pay for health care if they get sick.”

In recent weeks, the Salvation Army in Mobile has been reluctantly forced to reduce the capacity at its homeless shelter because of distancing rules, while the Waterfront Mission, Wings of Life, and the women’s shelter McKemie Place are not welcoming new clients. Across the state, food pantries are running low on supplies and resources as new unemployment filings surpass even those seen during the Great Depression.

After hearing about the cuts to frontline services around Mobile, Salvation Army Major Tom Richmond said that while his unit was forced to cut homeless capacity to 14 people a night, he has increased other services to the homeless community, including food related programs.

“On one Monday we fed 170 to 175 people,” he said in a call with AL.com “We increased services to go back every other day and will go more often if we need to. We’ve also seen 23 new families at our Pleasant Valley feeding program, and we expect to see more in the coming weeks and months.”

A Salvation Army disaster van at Cathedral Square in Mobile.

His Director of Program Services, Angela Steadman, issued a stark warning about the current crisis. “Our donations and funding sources are extremely low, and yet the need is the great. We will continue to serve, as best we can, while trying to adhere to CDC guidelines to help stem the spread of this virus.”

Major Richmond added that residential drug programs were continuing at the organization’s downtown location because they were seen as essential.

Exacerbating the struggles of the homeless population in Mobile is the closure of the Ben May library, a valuable resource for those trying to stay in touch with family. The library allows homeless people to use the computers and has valuable outreach programs that can help people get off the streets.

“I miss the library,’ said Middlestorb. “I have friends I made online from all over the world. Japanese, Russian. And it’s better than being on the streets all the time.”

At Cathedral Square in Mobile, just across from the Catholic Church, the Salvation Army feeds scores of homeless people on any given day. Not long after social distancing rules were implemented by the Governor, probably upwards of 60 people were sat in the park eating bagged lunches. Some were clearly homeless and struggling while others were immaculately dressed, as if they were headed to work – a sign that shortages of money and desperation can hit people in all classes.

“I have a job,” said Frank Craven, who has been homeless for about three years. “I work at the farmers market and can make good money but that’s been taken away from me. This crisis is sort of like being homeless, probably harder to get out of it than it is to get in.”

Christina Braithwaite, a homeless women recently returned to Mobile’s streets from her father’s home in Vicksburg, said that she’s seen more homeless people in recent weeks and has struggled to get money from people in the street. “There’s no one on the streets and some of the stores won’t take our coins or notes,” she said. “If it wasn’t for [the Salvation Army] we’d have nothing. I’m glad we haven’t been forgotten about but how long will this go on for?”

Christina eating a bagged lunch in Mobile.

For a homeless person, Middlestorb has been somewhat luckier, in a sense. He said he has developed good relationships with various churches where he can collect groceries and sometimes pick up a meal. “I always ask for non-perishable food so I can take it with me,” he said. “That last about three days then I’ll go to other churches and spend the little money I have.”

He said he’s also been able to use the church as a mailing address and regularly sleeps in an outside area at the back of the building. This past winter he slept in abandoned lot in his sleeping bag “It was kinda rough.”

Because of his disability he has stayed in touch with social security over the years and does keep a bank account. He knows that receiving the stimulus check would make him one of the lucky ones and could potentially be life changing, allowing him to furnish the apartment he hopes to get soon. But as with most things at the moment, he’s not sure if he’ll get it or if his fellow homeless people will as well.

“Homeless people are disconnected and some probably don’t know there was a coronavirus or money we could get to help us,” he said. “And who has a bank account or an address?”

“It’s not easy,” he added.

Since arriving in Alabama from his mother’s trailer in Georgia almost five years ago, Middlestorb said, he has been on a waiting list for a home with Housing First, a small charity that helps homeless disabled people get permanent accommodation.

More than anything, Middlestorb wants to be reunited with his family but knows that he first needs to turn it around, a bit like those Miracle Mets did back when he sat in Shea Stadium as a boy.

“I want to hug my family and tell them I love them,” he said before walking off to find his next meal.