James Hubbard traveled far underneath a highway overpass in Tacoma to reach his home.
To get there on an unusually warm February evening, he passed by two other people who used the covered roadway as a mile-long roof. They were bundled up in blankets or using layers of cardboard to get comfortable.
Far down the overpass, Hubbard pointed up a small slope to his home. It was barely visible — if Hubbard wasn’t there to point it out, few people would see it — but there, tucked behind a concrete piling, nestled against a tree was Hubbard’s small, A-frame portable house.