The tall man with the bushy white beard and flowing hair looks like a warrior Santa Claus as he makes his rounds on a bitter cold night on a mean street lit by neon bar signs.
For 3 1/2 years, Joe Gregersen has walked one of the city's roughest neighborhoods, passing out coffee and condoms to people who are often not legally old enough to smoke.Of all the "clients" who call him "Father Joe," the Church of the Brethren minister says, it is the teenagers who have the best chance of being helped. And like Dickens' Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, he grimly points to shipwrecked tramps and shuffling drunks as examples of what his kids will become if he fails.
In 1989, the last time a national report on the subject was published, there were 1.3 million runwaway and homeless young people living on U.S. streets. Based on the number who are turned away from shelters - three out of four in Chicago alone - shelter workers believe the number has increased dramatically since then. Five thousand street kids a year die of assault, illness and suicide, they say. The rest do whatever they need to survive.
"They say if the kids don't hook up with some kind of organization within 72 hours, they'll probably turn to pornography, drugs or prostitution," Gregersen said. "They'll perform oral sex for a hamburger."
It may be hard to believe life at home could be worse than on the street. But according to the 1989 study, more than a quarter of homeless and runaway young people were fleeing physical or sexual abuse. Almost a fifth said their parents abused alcohol or drugs. Other common problems were unemployment, family mental health problems and neglect.
"A lot of parents just aren't anything. They don't give guidance or anything," said Jay (not his real name), a 20-year-old who refuses to say how long he has been on his own - only that since his parents moved away a long time ago he has lived with a grandmother, various friends, and now at an emergency shelter.
"The streets are really hard," he said, noting that younger children, in particular, are easy marks for those who have been on the streets longer. Many are forced to join gangs to survive, but once in a gang, "if you aren't aggressive enough you're basically marked immediately."
Jay is worried most about a 24-year-old friend who he fears will become "one of those drunks you see on the street."
"I don't know why he's still on the street, you can tell he cares about himself. I think he's a good person," he said. "He's got a lot more together than people who have luxury items like houses and cars."
Disconnected from the "normal world," young people turn to other street kids or gangs for a sense of community, Father Joe said. Sometimes the best those trying to help can offer is an example.
"We're the most mainline, in terms of significant adults in their lives that are not dysfunctional, that they see," said the minister, who is one of a multi-denominational team of clergy and volunteers who visit poor areas, offering health care and support.
Many street kids do not realize a better life is possible, he said. Others are afraid to leave the streets because it is the only place they have experienced any sense of family or community, shelter workers say.