News Herald Photo: Robert CooperJarvis Gallop and Solo Hemric pass the camp’s current bottle. All the men living in the camp depend heavily on a steady flow of alcohol. Most of their money goes to buy beer.From page 1ABy day, these men search Panama City for odd jobs. At night, they gather to play spades under flashlights.Soon, they’ll be playing chess. Jarvis Gallop, 40, whittles the board pieces in his spare time.It will be the fourth chess set he’s made. He gave the others away.“I need some more decent wood,” Gallop said. “I need dry oak. Wood around here is too green.”The men have been living on this piece of private land mostly in multiperson, all-weather tents for about fourmonths.They call it the Bayline Campsite because of its proximity to the railroad tracks that meander through the city.It’s one of several camps scattered in secluded pockets of Panama City.Gallop, who sleeps in a handmade teepee fashioned from large tree limbs and a black plastic-like cover, said that the police department knows their whereabouts. He said it doesn’t bother them because city leaders would rather they congregate here than in high-profile places such as McKenzie Park.“It’s out of sight, out of mind,”Gallop said.He claims to camp in the woods so the true homeless, the ones who must depend on others to survive, will have a bed at the local shelter. His right ankle is reddish-pink and swollen from an accident while breaking firewood with his feet.“The younger kids can’t camp out like us,” Gallop said, shaking his head in disgust.He talked of a better life he once had — a dependable job, a decent home, a family and a son named Kevin.“I messed up and went to jail and lost everything,” Gallop said. “It can happen to anybody. It can happen real quick.”Lt. Dan Bates of the Panama City Police Department said that most of the people who choose to live in wooded areas aren’t hurting anybody but themselves.Unless the department receives complaints from property owners, or a person living in the woods victimizes someone, the police rarely bother with them, Bates said.“Where are they going to go if you run them out of the woods?” Bates said. “There is a day limit at the shelter. They have nowhere to go.”On occasion, men such as Martin,Gallop and Hemric have helped the police department solve cases.Bates familiarized himself with the crew last year during the investigation into the murder of Kathy Leger.Leger wasn’t homeless, but she was known to befriend those who lived in the streets.“They were very helpful,” Bates said. “A lot of these guys are good people that have had some bad luck.“Some of them are very intelligent.”Bates believes most people would be astonished to learn about the backgrounds of the homeless strolling downtown sidewalks.A good number have wealthy relatives and places to turn for help, but choose to live on their own. One man, whom Bates chose not to identity, was until recently a teacher. He got tired of normal day-to-day hassles.Thurman Chambers, executive director of the Panama City Rescue Mission, said his organization’s three-day limit for transients is flexible if a person shows a desire to change.He said the mission would prefer to have these people enrolled in its new 12-step personal development plan. It’s designed to rehabilitate, educate and train homeless people in areas of work that will get them back functioning insociety.But it takes commitment. Chambers said. The mission will not force anyone into the program.“After awhile, there is not much we can do,” Chambers said. “Some just don’t want to be here.”Gretchen Stephenson, informationand referral coordinator for the United Way, said there are more than 1,000 homeless people in Bay County every night.However, not all are sleeping in the woods.See OUTDOOR LIFE page 6A