Dumpster Diving: One man's trash is another's dinner
By TANYA EISERER / Abilene Reporter-News
Photo by Gerald Ewing / ARN
Dumpster divers battle each other and the garbage man in their constant quest for aluminum cans.
"It's open season - first-come, first-served," said Sherry Parker, a can collector who made her home on the streets for several years. "It used be that can collectors didn't encroach upon each other's territory. Now, it's war.
"It's an all-day, every-day thing," she said "There's a lot of competition. You've got to make your rounds before someone else does."
Collecting aluminum cans for recycling is a primary source of income for some destitute individuals - making it almost an underground economy.
"We don't make much, but we make enough to survive and to buy our beer and cigarettes," said one can collector.
Can collectors are regular customers at Abilene's recycling centers.
"We've got between eight to 12 regular people who come in that, if we judge by appearance, would be homeless or destitute," said Brian Ehrie of the Fort Recover Recycling Center at 2242 S. 2nd.
"Our regulars come almost daily - sometimes with a lot of cans and sometimes not," he said, noting they typically make between $1 and $2.50 per visit.
"It's kind of heartbreaking to think some people do this to make a living," said Ehrie, who came to Abilene three years ago from New York.
In New York, "it seems like there was more panhandling as opposed to going out and getting the cans," he said. "It's not much, but it's an effort. They're out there doing it in all types of weather.
"I don't know how they get it done, but they do."
Diving for cans may not pay much, but it's still hard work, Parker said.
"It's boring, it's tedious and it's dirty," she said. "It's embarrassing in a way. People look at you like you're a bum. Let them do it for a day."
It's also a job without reprieve. "If you get sick, there ain't no stopping," Parker said. "It ain't like you can stay in bed all day and miss work."
A day at the office
Parker and J.D. West drink a bit of coffee and then start on their daily Dumpster diving route at 7:30 a.m.
"Most of us have our own little secret places we go that not everybody else knows about," West explains.
They carry several bags and what's called a "pig sticker," a contraption with a sharp metallic hook attached to one end, useful for spearing cans.
Walking briskly, the pair weave in and out of alleys in a northside neighborhood around Clinton and Graham streets.
"We hunt for cans until dark. We'll usually take a break around lunch time," Parker said. She explained finding a single can along the road is called "roadkill."
Wednesdays, Saturdays and Sundays are the best days to go canning because the garbage trucks don't run, they say. On days the garbage trucks empty trash containers, Dumpster divers frantically attempt to stay ahead of the beeping sound.
"We know that sound they make when they back up. A can collector will know that sound a mile a way," Parker said.
Standing knee deep in a garbage Dumpster, West checks each of the garbage bags and chunks out cans as Parker crushes them and stuffs them into a bag.
"I've found all kinds of things," West said. "I've seen dead deer. This one usually is pretty good. I was in here 30 minutes the other day. We filled up one black bag."
Things like dirty diapers, kitty litter and used syringes are typical of the landscape for Dumpster divers, he added.
But they also discover items they can use, which are put into a "stuff bag" for things they want to keep, like a roll of toilet paper, paper towels and dishes.
"We've found jeans that have been dry cleaned," Parker said. "They were so stiff you could hardly get your leg in them. I'm wearing a pair of them."
West also saved an electric skillet from the trash heap.
"I'll take it and see if it works. If it doesn't, I'll cut the plug off and get the copper," he said.
Parker said they can sell the copper wiring to a local businessman if they save enough of it.
However, they discard a white dress shirt. It has a "stain," West explained.
Good food
Salad is added to the menu for that night's dinner when West tosses an avocado and an unopened head of lettuce from one trash receptacle.
"We found stuff the other day that was still cold," West said. "We found frozen hamburger meat."
Asked how they tell the "good" food from the "bad," Parker said they smell it.
"I've got a very sensitive nose," she explained.
Half-smoked cigarettes from the Dumpsters are thrown into a plastic "butt bag."
"Least if we don't get no money, we get cigarettes," West said, as he lit one.
When West gets thirsty, he downs the contents of a partially filled plastic Coke bottle retrieved from the Dumpster without hesitating.
Parker and West hit pay dirt near the end of the approximately 2.5 mile hike when they find about 40 cans in one Dumpster.
He hoots and hollers as she stomps the cans.
After hitting a few more Dumpsters, they head over to Fort Recover to turn in their cans and collect their money.
Depending on the vendor, can collectors can make anywhere from 35 to 50 cents per pound. It takes between 24-30 cans to make a pound.
For about two hours' work, Parker and West end up with 8.5 pounds of aluminum cans, which they sell at 41 cents a pound. They take the $3.49 and buy a quart of beer to drink on the way home.