Mike Martin

Mike Martin getting ready to vendBy Gretchen Crowe

We often interview vendors that hail from different cities around the country, but this month we are talking to a Denver native, Mike Martin. Born in August 1950 at Rose Medical, Mike’s father worked for Burlington Northern railroad and his mother worked in a bar. Her mother worked for Jonas Brothers Furs. He was an only child. His mom passed away from uterine cancer in her 30’s when Mike was young.

Mike attended East High School, graduating in 1968, and despite the times, never got into the burgeoning hippie movement. “I didn’t want any part of that at all!,” he said, “I was pretty quiet—no hippies, no drugs—just an average kid, I guess.” Mike is still soft spoken and unassuming, always throwing out, “Thank you dear” when he feels obliged. He is sincerely nice.

When Mike was a kid, he sold the Rocky Mountain News because, as he says, “all my family worked.” Most of Mike’s life has seen the ins and outs of Denver. Although he slyly claims the Minnesota Vikings as his football team, he says he has only traveled outside Denver on trips twice. He and a group that won a sales contest for the Rocky were sent to Anaheim, California for ten days. He said it rained the whole time, but the trip was still fun. He’s also traveled to Salt Lake City with his parents.

Mike started working out of high school at Denver Shippers in shipping and receiving, and when the union shut it down, they opened across the street as Colorado Shippers, where he continued to work until they were officially shut down by union violations. “They didn’t treat any of us very well.” But, Mike said it was still harder to lose his job when the union stepped in than to feel that their efforts had helped.

After Colorado Shippers he went to work for a temp agency for around five years. In hard times while working there and not being able to keep up his apartment, he talked of how he would pass the time by taking the bus back and forth. Back and forth after work, all night until 3:30 A.M. for his work shift, dozing on the longer rides and all of this to avoid sleeping outside and simply having somewhere to be. And then Mike came into our office.

About making ends meet with the VOICE, Mike said, “I enjoy it. [I] barely make ends meet, but I do make it. I love all my customers, and the job is less stressful. I really enjoy [vending] because I get to talk to a lot of nice people, professional people, not the riff-raff like on Colfax.”

Mike recently left an unfavorable living situation and has moved into a hotel. His hotel is $35 a night, which he exclusively pays for by vending the VOICE—he has never applied for outside assistance. Losing his father and best friend around seven years ago, Mike is quite isolated, telling of their passing with tears in his eyes. That “safety net” just isn’t there for him. But Mike isn’t jaded, he just works harder. About being alone, he says, “It’s not easy. Day to day, you know, it’s all I can do.”Mike Martin holds out a birthday cake. Mark Skinner and fellow staff members at the Office of Lieutenant Governor Barbara O’Brien threw him a party! Thanks to everyone who helped make his day extra special.

Mack McLaurin

Mack McLaurin at the Denver VOICE vendor office

By Gretchen Crowe

There’s a mystery in the air when Mack McLaurin walks in the room.  The well-groomed, smiling man was born and lived most of his life in uptown Manhattan, near 45th Street. He always shows up with a good attitude and enough professionalism to run the program. Mack vended for around two months a little over a year ago, and recently came back through our doors.

In New York City, Mack and his brother were raised by his mom who worked in a major grocery store chain. He tried the “street thing,” but that didn’t really take. He went to high school at Charles Evans Hughes, and left early to start working.  Over the years, after many jobs, Mack found he had a knack for cooking.  When asked his favorite restaurant or palette to cook, it was the food at Bennigan’s, since he truly enjoyed the food and he cooked there right at their height of their popularity.  Mack tried a lot of jobs, but found cooking and sales his strong suits. 

In 1979, at age 20, Mack traveled for the first time. His brother, now a minister, went into the military and Mack followed him to Topeka, Kansas. It was complete culture shock for this New Yorker, but he stayed for six months. He returned to NYC with the bug to travel. That same year, Mack met his soon-to-be-wife and they were married two years later, having six children including two sets of twins. They lived both in Kansas and NYC.

During his divorce, Mack began researching more cities and moving around the country, staying in places based on the jobs he found. In Phoenix, he cooked for a restaurant and in Las Vegas held several jobs, including sales. When asked the roughest city he’s ever lived in, “it was definitely Vegas.”

We met Mack a little over a year ago, when he came to vend. He said he found the VOICE when he spotted vendors on the street. “I saw a guy on the street and he broke it down,” Mack said, “and I thought, ‘I do sales anyway.’ I had a good impression [about the VOICE]. It was really helping people and it was a true opportunity.” 

Mack had moved to Denver to stay with a friend, but found that didn’t work and ended up in the shelter system. He moved back to Vegas to work as a “club pass” vendor, getting tips for passes that negated cover charges at clubs for Vegas partiers.  “The party scene will run you down. It’s good money, but good money isn’t always good for you, especially if you aren’t grounded.” So, Mack returned to Denver to vend the VOICE.

Mack says of the VOICE, “I like what it does. The stories are about us, not some person on Wall Street.” He is currently staying in a shelter, working to get into permanent housing and hopes to continue with the VOICE even if he gets another job. “I’m having some issues with the move [from Vegas], but I do see the benefits.”  

Mack stays involved with church and loves to go out to eat.  He stays fit by playing basketball. He often takes the bus to the mall and likes to walk around.  You can usually find him vending on the 16th Street Mall.

Bob Kaufer & Lovee Underhill

You might remember Lovee Underhill as a regular 300-club vendor on the 16th Street Mall over the last couple of years. Lovee always talked of her home in Florida and the nostalgia she had for her time there.  She celebrates sobriety and the positive friends she made there. So, in 2009, she decided to move home to Tampa. We wished her luck and health—and missing her dearly, off she went. She called us shortly after her arrival letting us know she had had what she called a mild heart attack, but something she still has to actively tend to maintain her health. We didn’t hear much back from her, but did catch wind of her struggles to stay afloat there.

In Tampa, the legislation is much more difficult on people living on the streets. There is no paper as a means of income, and Lovee even tried flying a sign for money—which is also illegal. She reunited with one of her friends, reconnecting after years, and on a dolphin boat he got on his knee and asked her to marry him. So fairytale!

So, in came “Beach Bum Bob.” Bob was originally from New Jersey, but had moved to Tampa over 15 years prior. He owned a trailer and their life seemed to be starting out together beautifully. But, even though he owned his trailer, the park where he lived had a no felon rule, and in Lovee’s previous life she carried that moniker and was not allowed to stay. Bob had a friend that had a truck and let Lovee sleep there. Bob sold his trailer and they lived in the truck together. Lovee truly disliked having to panhandle just to maintain.

It was a panicky time. No way to earn income,and being more and more marginalized from housing, the couple used the money from the trailer to get bus tickets back to Denver. It was a hard and bittersweet decision and a hard, four day bus ride back. They returned in May, spent the end of their money on a hotel for the month and both began selling the paper.  As an article in this issue talks about, finding family housing together is extremely difficult. The couple has had to use the last of their money for the more expensive option, a hotel, just to stay together.

Bob used to work in computers and also struggled with addiction, but alongside Lovee celebrates sobriety. He was a staple in Florida, and jokingly said, “My time there was the longest vacation in history.”  It was just over 15 years. He is a quiet and shy man, but never underestimate his humor and intelligence glimmering through those blue eyes. 

Lovee plans to officially change her name to Kaufer soon, and the couple’s love for each other is apparent. The beauty of this relationship is so simple in the fact that they’re together. But in the context of the obstacles they have faced, it is breathtakingly astounding. They take care of each other. They keep each other going as the fear of being on the streets is immanent without income from the paper. The Denver VOICE is a vehicle for them to succeed. Of course, it isn’t guaranteed, but with this couple’s conviction, they have a fighting chance. Lovee has expertise in selling and a history of a successful clientele base. Bob loves Lovee and will do anything to keep them together. •