Remembering Tom Campbell

It has been two years since we lost Tom Campbell, in cold and wet temperatures similar to what you feel outside today.

I think of him daily, as he smiles at me from my phone and computer screens. Today I listened to his last voicemail to me, and it was both heartwarming and heartbreaking.

Tom represents both the best in humanity, and the worst of our failures as a society. His absence is palpable for those of us who loved and cared for him.

If you get to know Tom through our remembrances, and then realize there are 2000+ humans on the street, each with a story, families, strengths, and challenges, and each with unique gifts to offer… You will understand why we can not stop.

Tom Campbell’s legacy is a reflection for us all. If we truly honor him, it is a call to action.

Tom S. Campbell

5/21/59 – 12/12/19

I first met “TomC” at Occupy Medical in the winter of 2012. A recent toe amputation had become infected, making shoes impossibly painful. He was wearing wet slippers that had worn through the bottom and were stuffed with newspaper. I dug some shoes out of our donation bin and we bonded over making him “custom orthotics” with sturdier soles. I soon became his advocate or “case manager” as he called me, and over the last 7 years we grew to be close friends and “family.”

Tom was a complex guy. On the surface he was quick with a smile, story or good dirty joke. He shared his resources freely. He took pride in serving the community by sweeping the street, volunteering, and caring for other vulnerable people. Tom was the kind of guy you wanted in the zombie apocalypse because he could turn broken electronics into useful working machines like a phone charger, a small generator that could power a flashlight, or a working Taser. Always the handy man, he wore his tools on strings around his neck so he wouldn’t lose them in his pants pockets that were held up with suspenders. In 2017 he was even featured in the Eugene Weekly

Under the surface Tom was a contemplative thinker and writer. He loved his friends and his daughter deeply, and carried heartbreak over loss of family and stability. He spent a lot of time alone, “lonely, and bored.” Tom told me on many occasions that he didn’t feel “worthy” of better conditions and that he “deserved” to suffer because of the ways he had screwed up his life. He took ownership of his mistakes but couldn’t figure out how to get past them. He fought depression, multiple addictions, and voices in his head that only quit when he experienced severe pain or when he numbed them out. He cycled in and out of homelessness, failed by programs, inadequate health care, and social stigma. Years on the streets ground down Tom’s body, mind, and spirit.

On a Tuesday he told me his "give a fucks were gone." On Wednesday he said his "body was betraying him." On Thursday morning he died in my van.

Tom, you were a good man and a good friend. I miss you terribly. I wish you all the peace you deserve. Please say hello to Tennessee, John G, John B, David, and all the other friends we have lost to the streets. You were ALL worthy of better.

xoxo