It’s No Picnic

Al Luper tells Metro kids that life on the river is a dead-end choice. Although he’s spent 20 winters there, and will choose to hunker down in his shanty through the snow and freezing temperatures again this year, living on the river is a consequence of his alcoholism, not a choice he’d suggest for anyone.

“Kids think living out here is camping. You know, a lot of fun around a campfire; a way to get away from what’s bothering them at home; a way to just do what you want,” Al says. “But I tell them it’s no picnic. “

Al regularly talks to youth groups, school groups and others hosted by Joppa. They tour his camp, which is deluxe compared to many, but then he sits them down to talk.

“I tell them the truth. Every day your whole focus is just to get by, survive until tomorrow. What will you eat? Where’s the water coming from? How will you stay warm or dry? Who is out there who will try to steal from you or hurt you? Where will you get money for the things you need?” he asks them. “There’s no future here and few ways out once you’ve given up your education, your family, your chances.”

At 54, Al has been an alcoholic for decades and says, after being in treatment several times over the years, he will always drink.

He remembers drinking his first beer when he was three years old. An uncle would give him small glasses of beer when he visited. At home, Al would wait for his alcoholic father to pass out, then finish any open beer he could reach.

He knows his drinking has cost him everything: his wife, regular contact with his six children, the five-plex he owned and various jobs over the years. Still, the best he can do now, he believes, is to live as responsibly as he can with his addiction.

So, Al lives frugally on very little cash because he knows he’ll drink whatever money he makes, even rent money. He does home repair and volunteers regularly. He fears being a burden or embarrassment to friends or family, so he turns down their help and lives a carefully isolated life.

“But I’m still a good person. I can help the kids see what this is really like and impact their lives. I can tell them, ‘Look at me and don’t take that first drink,’” he says. “I tell them if you’re in trouble at home, find someone you trust and tell them. If you have to get out of the house, run to someone—some place—where you can get help. If you come down here, you’ll be helpless, and you may never get out.

“There are just three ways to be homeless down here,” Al says. “Work some and just get by, beg and just get by, or do nothing but drink, drugs and die. That’s it. Some future, huh?”