I met Ms. Dash when I started working for Immigration in New York. She worked in one of the other departments and I would see her while I was delivering mail (I worked inthe mailroom and her name is NOT Dash). She was a few years older than me but we became good friends. I would occasionally call her "Mom". She had a warm motherly way about her and she was very open and frank when she spoke.
For about two years I saw Ms. Dash and I eventually found out she had a problem with her kidneys and she needed dialysis a couple of times a week. I learned she lived in the Bronx. I also learned around 1997 that she was homeless.
That marked the first time I ever heard about a person working and living on the street. I mean I never thought it was impossible but Ms. Dash was up close and personal. I am not even sure HOW I found out and I am positive I heard it from her.
Based on her accounts even though she earned a decent salary working for the federal government, her bills and her rent were more than what she brought in and she was homeless. Homeless in that she did not have an apartment or home or condo or room to acll her own. No lease with HER name on it. She managed to bounce from relative to relative to bathe and occasionally get something to eat but Ms. Dash had no place really to go
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