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That Time I Was Stranded & Broke in Oceanside with my Daughter.

A Short Story of Desperation, Charity, & Privilege.

It was November of ’88 and I was a Marine Private First Class at Camp Pendleton, near San Diego. I lived off-base with my wife and daughter — on a salary that made that technically feasible, but not really.

Some of the budget elements:

• Baby food, diapers, the usual supplies
• Bus fare (no car)
• No affordable childcare, so no income for my wife
• Predatory financing for our apartment furnishings
• Speaking of the apartment: it was also furnished with a recurring flea problem.

Our teenage dreams had long been replaced with trying to stretch one paycheck into food and shelter. It was a cycle of scarcity, but poverty doesn’t give you time to think about that.

We were not even 20 years old, but we were In Love — surely we could beat the odds against teen newlywed parents?

I remember exactly when I realized love wasn’t enough.

It was Tuesday night. 8pm.

We were out of food, out of milk, and out of money; my daughter was drinking down her last bottle…