Who is he?

I drive past a highway underpass every day on the way to work. It is right before I enter the tunnel into Alameda. There is a man that is living under this underpass and has been there for about two months. He has what looks like his entire life set up, a bed, a table and chairs, books, pictures a mirror. He used to have a computer on the table but that has been missing for a couple of weeks. Each day I drive by and wonder who he is and how long it will be before the city comes in and throws all his stuff away and forces him to move on. I want to stop and bring him coffee and a donut.