Imagine that there is no place where you can legally be. No place where you can sit down or be warm and dry. 
I do not judge our unsheltered neighbors, although the temptation to do so is great. I have no idea what has happened that they cannot just go home as I do after I drive past them in my warm, dry, reliable Subaru with my two labradoodles, the quintessential Oregon old woman. I do know if I had made just one mis-step that could be me.