Death in Venice

The buzz spread quickly through the homeless community and rumors were already flying by the time I heard about it: someone had been murdered on the beach. I checked with the Los Angeles Times online "Homicide Report" to get the facts: a 25-year-old white homeless man had been beaten to death, then partially buried in the sand at Venice Beach. According to the reader comments on the report, his name was Nate and he came from Toledo, Ohio.

After a few days, the buzz died down amongst the homeless, but the police have vowed to crack down on all illegal activities. They've increased their presence, especially along the boardwalk, and have been making more arrests for vagrancy and illegal camping. And apparently cars, vans and campers are no longer allowed to be parked in the same spot for more than three days.

When I got back up to Santa Monica this weekend, a homeless woman told me that the police raided the beaches with the aid of helicopters to round up the homeless. And apparently they even swept through the Third Street Promenade one night, clearing out the homeless that normally sleep there. I went there last night, and indeed, I saw only a fraction of the homeless folks that are normally there.

Of course, this whole chilling episode does give me pause to reflect on my own security. All in all, I still feel relatively safe. After all, I'm more likely to get hit by a car while biking these busy streets or gag on my 300th Vienna sausage. (Bless the lil' beasties!) Although, last night a disturbing incident served to shake me from my reverie.

I've been feeling fairly secure in my little alley cubbyhole---it's in some dark shadows (away from the alley and house lights), so I can sleep pretty much out of sight. But last night at about 1am I was woken up by a guy repeatedly shouting "Get out!" and "Put that down!" Apparently, a thief had broken into a garage very near to me and had been discovered by the owner. The thief escaped down the alley with the owner threatening to call the police.

I immediately got up and started hurriedly packing up all my gear, since I was sure that if the police showed up, then they would surely discover me in my little nook. Instead, the owner and a friend started searching the alley for the thief. Amazingly, they walked right past my niche and didn't see me crouching in the shadows. They got in his car to search some more and I made my escape. I ended up sleeping in a parking lot by the post office with about ten other homeless people.

This recent murder prompted me to check up on the case of Terry Wendover, the homeless woman I briefly knew who was killed in Poughkeepsie, New York back in July 2007. (Blog entry: "Street Death") I was relieved to find out that a suspect has finally been arrested for her murder. Now I just hope they've got the right guy. And maybe he's also responsible for the death of Iris Rogers, another homeless woman who was murdered a month before Terry.

On a related note, there's currently a twisted court trial going on here in Los Angeles involving two old ladies (mid to late 70s) who are charged with befriending homeless men, having them get life insurance policies with the women as beneficiaries, and then killing them by running them over with a car. This appears to be one of the more extreme results of the fact that many people see the homeless as less than human.

I guess this is as good a time as any to address comments from a few people who have drawn parallels between my walkabout and Chris McCandless' ill-fated experiences in the wilderness of Alaska, as chronicled in the recent movie "Into the Wild". I haven't seen the movie, but I read Jon Krakauer's original "Outside" magazine article on McCandless. I actually arrived in Alaska right when he died, in the late summer of 1992.

It is true that both of us were/are attempting to free ourselves from standard social conditioning and expectations. But while McCandless rejected society, I am attempting to embrace it in all of its fractured glory----the beauty and the cruelty, the hilarity and the bleakness, the life and even the death. (Ultimately, these dualistic distinctions are merely the projections of my own mind.) I bow down to it all. Or at least that's the theory. I've still got a long way to go. The practice is in narrowing the gap between my limitations and the ideal. And sometimes the practice is accepting my limitations as the ideal. After all, I bow down to my limitations too.

And, just to be clear, if I went into the wilderness, I doubt I would last even the four months that McCandless survived. Ain't no Vienna sausages in the wild.

"I want everyone to know my son was NOT a homeless man, he has a very loving family who had not heard from him in several weeks. He had a job in another state, an address, a home. What these people chose to do is unimaginable, and We want justice to be served. We love and miss our son"
---Nate's mother, commenting on the Homicide Report

"The perps are in custody. Thanks to video surveillance and some concerned citizens. It's time to clean up Venice beach front. There are many drugged out youth that pose a very real risk to our citizens. No more. Things have to and will change in Venice"
---Brad, commenting on the Homicide Report

"Don't worry about me, I've got plenty of angels watching over me."
---Toni, a homeless woman sleeping by herself in Chess Park

"2007 was the first year in 37 years that we didn't have any murders."
---"Chief" Keetoowah

"I bow down to drunkards, thieves, adulterers, prostitutes, and liars. I bow down to them all."
---Tibetan yogi Drukpa Kunley, the "Divine Madman" in one of the "crazy wisdom" traditions (This is not an exact quote, since I am trying to remember what I read several years ago.)

Some quotes from Arthur C. Clarke, who died a few days ago:
"Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic."
"There is hopeful symbolism in the fact that flags do not wave in a vacuum."
"The only way of finding the limits of the possible is by going beyond them into the impossible."
"It has yet to be proven that intelligence has any survival value."

Faye (a librarian): "I will love him even as they kick him out." (regarding a guy causing problems at the Venice library)
Me: "Way to take the high road."
Faye: "There is only the high road."