'It can wreck you': Bend man holding on as homeless pushed farther out

Thomas Mercer was on his way to earning a degree in electronics engineering before a motorcycle accident changed his life forever. Now, he and his family are camping in a remote area east of Bend. As he struggles to maintain his health, and area officials continue to sweep encampments, he wonders how he'll survive.

Tommy Mercer sits outside his campsite east of Bend. Mercer is a type one diabetic and has been on disability since he sustained serious injuries in a motorcycle accident. Photo by Joe Kline.

Download Story

By DAVID DUDLEY

FORJournalism Lab

Though Thomas "Tommy" Mercer has been living in a juniper forest east of Bend for only seven months, the 56-year-old said it "feels like a lifetime."

"I mean, we're surviving," he said on a hot morning in June. "But we run out of food stamps in the middle of the month. I go into the store, and the question isn't 'What am I going to buy?' It's 'What can I buy?'"

Mercer said he gets a little over $200 from the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program. With food prices remaining stubbornly high, there's no relief in sight. To make up for that lack, Mercer and his neighbors pitch in for community meals that often include beans and rice, a staple for families trying to stretch limited resources.

"But we each have our individual needs," he added. "And I'm a diabetic, Type 1. For those that don't know, I'll tell you, it's hard to keep things cold out here."

Tommy Mercer holds his dog, Tiger Lily, outside his campsite east of Bend. Mercer said Tiger Lily has noticed when he has had diabetic incidents and has alerted others. Photo by Joe Kline.

Mercer is referring there to the insulin he relies upon to stay alive. Just as Mercer got a generator up and running, all the vehicles broke down at once, making it all but impossible to drive into town to get gas to power the generator or go to doctor appointments.

As officials continue to sweep encampments in Central Oregon, Mercer wants to get into a rental. He said he receives $1,100 in disability benefits, but it's not enough. 

"I mean, there's just no way," he said, glancing up at one of the many airplanes that pass overhead each day. "Life happens to all of us. Some people are okay with being out here, but I'm not. This is not the endgame for me."

Everything was taken from me

To continue the chess analogy, Mercer's current situation wasn't foreseeable in the opening. Born in Minneapolis, Minnesota, he moved around a lot as a boy. At 14, he joined his stepdad in the construction business. Mercer apprenticed as a carpenter, earning decent money while many of his peers focused solely upon their studies. He then became a contractor, building subdivisions in Bend.

By age 32, Mercer was married to a woman he loved. He attended DeVry University in Phoenix, Arizona, where he pursued a degree in electronics engineering. With the woman he loved by his side and the promise of a lucrative career, Mercer was optimistic about the future.

"I was on the Dean's list," he said. "I was on my way to making $70,000 a year."

Tommy Mercer’s hands are seen as he sits outside his campsite east of Bend. Mercer said he worked mostly with his hands, in construction and as a contractor, prior to a motorcycle accident in which he sustained serious injuries to his hands and body. Photo by Joe Kline.

That all came to a halt when Mercer was in a motorcycle accident. He said that he was passing through an intersection when a woman driving a truck pulled out in front of him.

"I hit the front of her truck," he said. "I flipped and flew 50 feet before landing on the concrete. The chin strap on my helmet failed, and it launched off my head. My lawyer said that would have been an easy lawsuit to win, but the helmet went missing."

Mercer required nearly 30 surgeries to repair various parts of his mangled body.

"It ripped both of my thumbs off," he said.

"They had to put them back on. I suffered a traumatic brain injury, my neck was broke. I was in a coma for a long time.

"It did me in," Mercer added after a pause. "I should be building robots. Instead, I'm collecting cans."

It can wreck you

In the aftermath, Mercer's 13-year marriage dissolved. That's when he started using drugs to numb the crushing physical pain and mental anguish that arose after the accident.

"I don't want to be a burden to anybody," he said. "Up to that point, all I did was work with my hands. That was taken from me. Everything was taken from me."

Mercer said that, aside from his stint in Phoenix, he's been in Bend since 1989. He and his partner, Blair, lived with, and cared for, her mom. When his partner’s mother died in March, Mercer and Blair had nowhere else to go.

Mercer's sister gave them the camper in which they now live, and they moved it to the site where it now sits. Given recent sweeps of homeless encampments, and others planned, Mercer doesn't know how long they'll be there or where they'll go next.

Mercer admitted that he's been in trouble with the law — he was charged with assault and possession more than 10 years ago — and that has led to some of his difficulties. Though he hasn't been in trouble since, Mercer said finding a place to live remains an insurmountable challenge.

"I thought that, once I had paid for my crime, repaid my debt to society, I could move on and live a decent life," he said. "But there are people out there who want to continue to persecute us. We can't find work, we can't get housing."

The loss of independence weighs heavily upon Mercer. And he's painfully aware of the looks he gets when in public.

"When you can't get to a shower for a while, you'll start to hear the whispers," he said. "All I can say to them is: I hope your life goes well. Because one mistake, one misstep, can wreck you."

Before I leave this world

Mercer said he lies awake some nights, thinking about where he is now, and where he could have been — but he's grateful for Blair.

"She brought me back from total despair," he said. "She saved my life. I wouldn't be here without her."

Tommy Mercer kisses his dog, Tiger Lily, outside his campsite east of Bend. “I fell in love with her when she became part of our family,” Mercer said. Photo by Joe Kline.

That, Mercer said, is the reason he keeps trying. "I'm a man," he said. "I may be broken, but I'm a man."

Mercer dreams of buying a little piece of land in Christmas Valley, southeast of La Pine. That dream feels out of reach due to health and money challenges. Mercer said he has been in and out of the hospital five times in the past year due to diabetes-related complications. He consistently misses doctor appointments due to car trouble.

Mosaic Community Health sent a team to check on Mercer in late June. They determined that he would benefit from a small refrigerator that can be charged with a USB cable. A small thing for many Americans, but a matter of life and death for Mercer. 

"I'm not scared to die," he said. "But I've got a beautiful family, and a really good lady. I want to spend some more time with her before I leave this world."

Homelessness: Real Stories, Real Solutions (realstoriesrealsolutions.org) is a journalism lab funded by Central Oregon Health Council under FORJournalism (forjournalism.org), an Oregon nonprofit dedicated to supporting journalism statewide. Sign up for weekly newsletters to receive updates.