After the Sweep
A Sunday morning in August. I was on a long walk in and around the neighborhood and noticed several familiar derelict RVs parked in new places. Some had arrived under their own barely motorized power; others were towed by friends' trucks using rope and cables.
The relocation was the result of last week's two-day sweep of my local homeless encampment that dispersed approximately 30 people, three dogs and removed various RV, pallet shanty, tent and vehicle domiciles. For three hours I had watched city employees, tow truck operators and a private clean-up contractor called Bio Response haul away the detritus, including a mountain range of accumulation by the heavy metal guitarist named Brendon, someone I had previously met and written about for this newsletter.
What had struck me about the sweep was how calm and collaborative it all unfolded and that Brendon was nowhere around to sort through and prioritize his possessions. But several of his friends were there doing it for him.
The cleanup crew eventually removed ten semi-truckloads of Brendon's accumulation. Yes, ten loads of stuff he had mostly collected off the streets of the neighborhood in the past seven or eight months.
Brendon had been living in a tent camper buried deep inside the mountain range and one of his friends had towed it out with a truck and parked it about a quarter mile away on a side street in front of an semi-upscale apartment building.
I had seen the camper a few days after the sweep and Brendon had already started accumulating again and piling everything high and wide on a sidewalk. In fact, he blocked the sideways with his stuff. His tent camper was ten feet away from the fenced back yard of the apartment building and those residing on the second floor could easily observe the tent camper and growing accumulation and hear everything going on.
I rounded a corner and saw Brendon outside the camper. He was sorting through a bin of rectangular and cylindrical-shaped pieces of plastic. He saw me and I said hello. I walked over to him. What follows is my best reconstruction of our brief conversation.
How's it going Brendon?
Not so great.
I saw them sweep your other site. I was surprised you weren't there.
Yeah, they put me into a Bio Response car and drove me away when it started.
You had a lot of stuff.
Well, I've downsized now.
Are you sure about this spot? I mean you're right next to the apartment and blocking the sidewalk.
I lived here for three years. These people in the apartment are the meanest people I have ever met. In the last few days, I've been threatened, yelled at, spit on. One guy said he was going to burn me out.
Well. I mean, can you understand where they are coming from? Have you considered that?
He didn't answer.
Maybe you should move on to somewhere else. Maybe it's time.
He didn't respond.
Good luck.
Thanks.
I walked away with the distinct impression this story wasn't going to end well.