While the lack of affordable housing is a popular topic at backyard barbecues and upscale business functions, the plight of the truly destitute and chronic homeless is rarely discussed.

After all, this is a problem that normally affects someone else. The vast majority of Hawai'i residents sleep each night tucked securely in a warm, safe bed, protected from intruders and the elements. Each night we go home, have dinner, take a hot shower and then stretch out on the couch in front of a good book or the television.

The homeless in our state are estimated to exceed 4,000 men, women and children — and they are often hidden. They live in our parks, on our beaches, in cars parked on quiet side streets and in the alleyways behind our stores and offices. The more fortunate might reside in the carport or garage of a friend. They drift from one spot to another, wondering always when they will be kicked out, robbed or worse.

Recently, both on O'ahu's Leeward Coast and on Kaua'i, I joined local service providers on their "homeless routes" delivering food, clothes and information on available services.

"Down on their luck" is a phrase that describes many, but not all of the homeless folks whom I spoke with. For some, drug and alcohol abuse was the primary culprit contributing to their fall. For others, the challenges were physical or mental disability, but for most it seemed the fall from mainstream life under a solid roof could only be attributed to hard luck, or no luck at all.

During my trip down the Leeward Coast, I met people who lived under blue tarps and tattered tents spread about in the hot, dry kiawe brush. They emerged slowly from the trees grateful for the sandwiches, toothpaste, soap and other essentials we had to offer. There were single males who seemed old beyond their years, thin, frail and baked a deep brown from the intense sun. There were families and single mothers with children in tow, happy to accept the used clothing and meager school supplies we offered. I spoke briefly to an elderly women living alone in a solitary tent on a windy and rocky coastal outcrop.

On Kaua'i I met a young woman, nine months pregnant, fleeing an abusive relationship and living in a tent with friends. When I asked what would happen after the baby came, she said, "Don't worry, we have a warm spot set aside in the tent for the baby."

I met young families with small children and a couple, both of whom were working full time but still could not find an affordable home to rent. I met a man who had been severely injured many years ago by a drunken driver and now spent his days at a picnic table in front of the county building, unemployed, confined to a wheelchair and homeless.

For these people and for many others in our community, there is literally no place to go. They spend years waiting on lists, HUD lists, public housing lists and others.

"They should get a job," is often the first reaction from those unfamiliar with the plight of the homeless. But the reality is that many of these people do have jobs, and others are simply not employable without intense and long-term support. Who is going to hire a skinny old homeless man with bad teeth? How do you get a job without transportation, without childcare and without the skills needed in the modern business world?

As a member of the Joint House/Senate Legislative Affordable Housing and Homeless Task Force, I know there are many affordable-housing initiatives being proposed by the state and local governments. In addition, numerous private developers have projects under way now that will result in the construction of thousands of affordable-housing units statewide during the next few years.

While it is uncomfortable and expensive for many who are stuck in overcrowded and overpriced living conditions, most of our residents can wait a year or two or three until the development of new, more affordable housing catches up with the market.

However, the homeless cannot wait; they have nowhere to go and need our help today. We cannot simply throw these people away nor can we sweep them further and further out of sight. Help for those at the very bottom of the housing food chain must come first and it must come quickly.

This Friday marks the final day of National Homeless Awareness Week. On this day beginning at 4:30 p.m., concerned residents will be gathering at the state Capitol for a candlelight vigil in recognition and support of those who live each day under blue tarps, in doorways and in tattered tents scattered throughout our state. Similar gatherings are being held in all counties and across our nation. The message is as strong as it is simple: In the land of aloha, homelessness is just not acceptable.

State Sen. Gary Hooser represents the 7th Senatorial District (Kaua'i and Ni'ihau). He wrote this commentary for The Advertiser.