The woman walking behind me froze when I turned to look at her after a stoplight flashed red. That became her signal to hurriedly walk in another direction. This is the 10th year that well-groomed people in the heartland have made me feel like garbage simply because of the clothes I had on. At least once a year I dress in my old army coat, black knit cap, faded jeans, frayed flannel shirt and grass- stained sneakers to gauge people's reaction to folks who appear to be homeless. The message is unspoken, yet unmistakable. People who are better off make...