“The best way to find freedom is to become what society calls homeless,” says Bob Wells, the hero of the book Nomadland and the Oscar-winning film of the same name. Bob is not an invention of the authors, but a real person. A few years ago, he started living in a van, and then founded a site with advice for those who, like him, decided to get out of the system and start their path to a free life.
“The first time I experienced happiness was when I started living in a truck.” The Story of Nomad Bob Wells
On the verge of bankruptcy
Bob Wells’ van odyssey began about twenty years ago. In 1995, he went through a difficult divorce from his wife, the mother of his two young sons. They lived together for thirteen years. He was, in his own words, «on a debt hook»: the debt was $ 30 on credit cards used to the maximum.
Anchorage, where his family stayed, is the largest city in Alaska, and housing there is expensive. And of the $2400 the man brought home each month, half went to his ex-wife. It was necessary to spend the night somewhere, and Bob moved to the town of Wasilla, seventy kilometers from Anchorage.
Many years ago, he bought about a hectare of land there with the intention of building a house, but so far there was only a foundation and a floor on the site. And Bob began to live in a tent. He made the site a kind of parking lot, from where he could drive to Anchorage — to work and see the children. Shutting between cities every day, Bob wasted time and money on gasoline. Every penny counted. He almost fell into despair.
Moving to a truck
Bob decided to do an experiment. To save fuel, he began to spend the week in the city, sleeping in an old pickup truck with a trailer, and on the weekends he returned to Wasilla. Money got a little easier. In Anchorage, Bob parked in front of the supermarket where he worked. The managers didn’t mind, and if someone didn’t come on shift, they called Bob — after all, he’s always there — and that’s how he earned overtime.
He was afraid that there was nowhere to fall below. He told himself he was homeless, a loser
At that time, he often wondered: “How long can I stand this?” Bob could not imagine that he would always live in a tiny pickup truck, and began to consider other options. On the way to Wasilla, he passed a decrepit truck with a SALE sign parked outside an electrical shop. One day he went there and asked about the car.
He learned that the truck was at full speed. He was just so unsightly and beaten that the boss was embarrassed to send him on trips. They asked for $1500 for it; exactly this amount was set aside for Bob, and he became the owner of an old wreck.
The walls of the body were a little more than two meters in height, there was a lifting door at the back. The floor was two and a half by three and a half meters. The small bedroom is about to come out, Bob thought, laying out foam and blankets inside. But, spending the night there for the first time, he suddenly began to cry. No matter what he said to himself, the situation seemed unbearable to him.
Bob was never particularly proud of the life he led. But when he moved into a truck at the age of forty, the last remnants of self-respect disappeared. He was afraid that there was nowhere to fall below. The man critically assessed himself: a working father of two children who could not save his family and has sunk to the point that he lives in a car. He told himself he was homeless, a loser. “Crying at night has become a habit,” Bob said.
This truck became his home for the next six years. But, contrary to expectations, such a life did not drag him to the bottom. Changes began when he settled down in his body. From sheets of plywood, Bob made a bunk bed. I slept on the bottom floor and used the top floor as a closet. He even squeezed a comfortable chair into the truck.
When I moved into the truck, I realized that everything society told me was a lie.
Attached plastic shelves to the walls. With the help of a portable refrigerator and a two-burner stove, he equipped a kitchenette. He took water in the bathroom of the store, just collected a bottle from the tap. And on weekends, his sons came to visit him. One slept on the bed, the other in the armchair.
After a while, Bob realized that he no longer missed his old life so much. On the contrary, at the thought of some domestic aspects that now did not concern him, especially about the bills for rent and utilities, he almost jumped for joy. And with the money saved, he equipped his truck.
He caulked the walls and the roof, bought a heater so as not to freeze in the winter when the temperature dropped below zero. Equipped with a fan in the ceiling, so as not to suffer from the heat in the summer. After that, it was no longer difficult to conduct the light. Soon he even got a microwave and a TV.
«For the first time I experienced happiness»
Bob was so accustomed to this new life that he didn’t think about moving even when the engine started to go haywire. He sold his lot in Wasilla. Part of the proceeds went to repair the engine. “I don’t know if I would have had the courage to lead such a life if circumstances hadn’t forced me,” Bob admits on his website.
But now, looking back, he rejoices at these changes. “When I moved into the truck, I realized that everything society told me was a lie. Allegedly, I am obliged to marry and live in a house with a fence and a garden, go to work and be happy at the end of my life, but until then remain unhappy. The first time I experienced happiness was when I started living in a truck.”