Two weeks ago today, Valente Ramirez celebrated his birthday. He turned 56. He received no birthday cards. He doesn't have a mailbox anyway.

There was no birthday party. No cake, no ice cream. In fact, Ramirez said the only thing he did on his birthday was what he does every day. He read his Bible. And he drew pictures, just like he did yesterday. And probably will draw again tomorrow.

"This is about the worst I've seen in this country," says the Rev. Timothy Brown of Orangeburg. "I've seen worse in Mexico, but not here."

What the Rev. Brown is speaking of is Ramirez' living conditions. Whether they would qualify this quiet man as homeless is debatable.

Some may say he's not.

Not very deep into the woods off a major throughway leading into Orangeburg, the 15-by-20 shed in which he lives has no electricity, no heating and no air conditioning. There aren't any showers, tubs or toiletries; there's no running water if there were.

According to the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, there are about 600,000 men, women and children across the United States who are homeless.

When South Carolina released its report on homelessness in late 2004, it indicated that 6,481 people were counted as homeless: 45 percent, sheltered, and 55 percent, unsheltered; 68 percent, male; 20 percent, veterans; 15 percent, children.

The report noted that an estimated 10,355 was actually a truer homeless figure, a figure that takes into account people such as Ramirez. An even higher annualized homeless estimate for the state in 2005 stood at 32,335. That figure, according to the state's report, approximates the number of people that are homeless at any one point during the year.

For the homeless in the Orangeburg area, the only shelter available is the Middleton Street Samaritan House. That facility has room for a maximum of 40 persons, a couple more, perhaps, if push came to shove.

The state estimates that Orangeburg County has a total count of 289 homeless individuals. Compare the 40 available beds with that figure and the problem becomes obvious.

Meanwhile, officials recognize that there are individuals who wouldn't take advantage of the facility, wishing to maintain their independence -- even it means remaining homeless.

"There are a few out there, we don't know how many," Orangeburg police patrol Capt. Ed Conner said.

While on patrol, police officers are usually the first contact the homeless will have with others. Conner said officers will encounter individuals bedded down -- not in the gardens and park areas near the Edisto River -- but behind businesses or shops closer to the center of town.

"They'll find refuge where it's going to be comfortable for them," Conner said.

There are cities whose policy it is to provide a one-way bus ticket out of town for the homeless, Connor said. Orangeburg's policy, however, is that as long as an individual isn't causing trouble, city officials encourage them to seek shelter with family, if possible, or at Samaritan.

"We don't just tell them they got to move on or tell them to get out," Conner said. "We try to get them to help."

The Samaritan House has a no-alcohol policy, however, something that Ramirez admits would have been a problem for him.

Brown says that, while the 56-year-old has been off alcohol for six months, Ramirez still doesn't wish to become a burden on the welfare system.

The two men met about six years ago when Brown ran a home maintenance business. Despite Ramirez' lack of English, Brown hired him as a handyman. When work slowed, Ramirez did other odd jobs around town.

The two friends lost touch with one another for several years ago until they had a chance encounter a couple weeks ago as Brown was driving through Orangeburg.

"I saw a box in the road, and then I saw it was a wheelchair as I got nearer to it," Brown said. "I got a little closer and said, 'That's Valente.' "

Brown caught up on his friend's life since the two had last seen one another. He learned Ramirez had worked the odd jobs he could find to get by. Ramirez had been with one family and then another, eventually being asked to leave from each.

In December, an accidental fire at a home near Santee left Ramirez with third-degree burns on his feet when he tried to stomp the flames out. His left leg was eventually amputated. He now uses a walker to get around.

The accident also ended his hopes for a regular job with a local business.

For the past four or five years, "home" for Ramirez has been the shed. Sometimes, the rain doesn't come inside the shed, which is lined with plastic scraps. Sometimes the rain does come inside.

Thousands of motorists have passed the neatly kept grounds of the shed, a time-worn wind chime hanging by the door. Although Ramirez is located close to the road, no one stops.

"No," he says, "nobody's coming here."

He subsists off tin-cupping, begging. Somebody might give him a can of beans, he says. Sometimes, a loaf of bread.

Every couple days, he'll set off in his wheelchair for the mile or so trip to a local business. There, he'll fill his water containers and place them back in his lap for the return trip to the shed in the woods. Most days, he rakes the area in front of his shed, the rake held together with a clothes hanger. He pulls weeds.

If it rains, he sits on a paint bucket, watching the rain form rivers that wash down the little dams of dirt he's piled against the shed's front wall. He also reads his Bible.

"And fixes the pictures," Ramirez said, with Brown translating as "drawing art on scraps of paper he's found."

A native of Mexico City, Ramirez has been here about 20 years. He wanted to go back home when times got rough. He last spoke with the rest of his family -- two sisters -- years ago, indicating that he communicated with his family through a borrowed short-wave radio.

In 1990, the sisters were to send someone to bring him back to Mexico. They never showed.

"And no more communication with my family," he said. "No more nothing."

So Ramirez remains here.

Spearheaded by Brown, there is an effort to get Ramirez into more livable conditions. A small home on Treadwell Street is being prepared. But Ramirez will need work to make the already reduced rent payment.

Despite the apparent handicap and his broken English, Ramirez does have labor skills, Brown said. He can paint, do light yard work. He changed tires at an automotive center before the accident.

"My wife and I can only do so much," Brown said. "But that's when we're going to need Christians' help."

Perhaps the most well-known homeless person was Jesus, who never had a mailing address, a bed he could call his own either. It was always a loaner from some kind soul.

That's what it will take for Ramirez. Brown is asking the community for help, to get Ramirez stabilized in his own home.

Any kind soul who wishes to help can call Brown at 803-378-9221.

T&D Staff Writer Richard Walker can be reached by e-mail at rwalker@timesanddemocrat.com or by telephone at 803-533-5516. Discuss this and other stories on-line at TheTandD.com.

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