Neighbors

Witnessing the removal of a homeless encampment

Written Feb 24,

This winter I saw the homeless encampment for the first time. It had a huge tarp or tent as a roof and a collection of grocery carts around it. It sat quietly a few yards from the street, only revealed by its blue roof and the bare trees.

It snowed more this winter than any other I can remember and the snow cascaded off the tarps like it would on our roof. It was peaceful, but I hoped they had a way to stay warm. I had no idea who lived there, or how many people were using it as shelter.

There was an irony…or at least a noticeable duality of the sides of the street.

My complex stands proudly as a “gated community.” However, the gate has only worked 48 hours in the last two years. It’s a facade of seclusion despite holding high expectations and standards. Over ten dumpsters were removed, only to be replaced by two compactors. These compactors are overburdened with trash until a mountain of bags makes them inaccessible, and pet shit is an abundant “feature.”

This week I witnessed the encampment being dismantled. Men had lugged all of the shopping carts out of the woods and the home made there by strangers was no more. A rage settled within me and then my chest ached at the thought of these people losing this place. They had never bothered anyone is what I continue to tell myself. They held space in woods that weren’t being sold to some mega-corporation. Why couldn’t they claim it?

I feared the thought of someone reporting it. A malicious caller: “This is an eyesore, you have to fix this or get them out of my eyesight, even though they’re just trying to survive.”

I hope they weren’t displaced and left to start over in the cold. I hope they found shelter somewhere with a bed, heat, and warm food. I hope it with all my heart.