LORRAINE ON HOMELESS SPACE

LOCATION. LOCATION. LOCATION.

Around the corner from where I live, a camper has been parked in the same spot since 1964. Every Tuesday at noon, the street cleaners commandeer that side of the street and I have witnessed the camper on the corner poised to swoop back in and reclaim its turf the minute the sweepers pass by.

I often wonder how the homeless decide on which space to make their own. From a tent pitched on a central divide to six feet of sidewalk between a set of potted plants to a particular patch of parking lot – and not in the private corner that one might think. Often the location seems random, as if suddenly the person got too tuckered to continue, such as the two bodies in sleeping bags stretched head to toe along the curb by a row of parked cars. Then days later there they are - the same two sleeping bags – suggesting that indeed a choice was made.

It’s been reported that up to 5,000 people live in San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park and over the years various city regimes have attempted to oust them. One wet winter I watched the bulldozers shove mud from A to B and then back again in the name of landscaping. The problem was that the chicken wire blocked access to the park for all citizens, not just those in search of a lawn to pass out on. As soon as the park reopened, the homeless were back in droves. I didn’t blame them. Camping in the urban jungle seems more appealing than the cement jungle. Besides, the location had a 24-hour supermarket, Laundromat, McDonalds and a French coin-operated toilet in its favor. Location, location, location.

Which brings me back to the question.

I have spoken briefly with the gentleman who resides in the camper. James is a gentle-spoken African American as eloquent as an English professor. Perhaps he chose the spot for its proximity to the library. I imagine he has lots of friends on the street who invite him in for dinner, pass on a barely-worn coat, maybe even have him baby-sit. I do know that his block is the only one in the neighborhood that doesn’t have two-hour resident parking, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to park there, which gives me reason to believe that at some point someone made a decision to let him have his space.

[Lorraine Flett is also the author of Sassy & Single in San Francisco]