June 24, 2004

The Other Side of Paradise part II

Here we go again on this...Criminal enablement at its very best!

Tuesday, Jun 22, 2004
Transient troubles


By HUNTER BISHOP
Jeffrey Mermel, president of the Hilo Downtown Improvement Association, estimates that six to 10 homeless people wake up in doorways of downtown businesses almost every morning.

Teachers at area schools, such as Hilo Union, regularly find homeless persons asleep on campus as they arrive. The homeless sleep in bushes, alleys, beaches and wherever else they can find a place to lie down.

Mermel agonizes over what to do about the problem. "What is our response if we don't want them in doorways? What is the right thing to do?

"Every town, as it grows, has to look this (problem) in the eye," he said.

Three downtown parks are where the homeless are most likely to congregate during the day -- Kalakaua, Mooheau, and Lincoln.

Rosalie Alderson, agent for the owner of the building that houses her spiritual wellness shop and Island Cantina Restaurant, is particularly troubled by homeless people. She said one with "obvious psychological damage" tried to order food, stole silverware, and disrupted restaurant operations before police were called recently.

A man named Andrew, who travels in a wheelchair, was constantly being picked up by police, she said. He'd exposed himself and made sexually inappropriate comments to her, and was found in her building naked and washing himself in the hallway. "The last time I saw him he was camping on the steps of the East Hawaii Cultural Center."

Police took him to the hospital. "They said he was psychologically sound," and he was released, said an exasperated Alderson. He's a veteran, she said, but received no help and caused trouble. Police said Andrew has since returned to the mainland.

Alderson also said she's been "fighting drug dealers" in Kalakaua Park since Dec. 31, when she opened Essential Alchemy, a spiritual wellness center on Kalakaua Avenue two doors down from the park. Alderson said her efforts have attracted little support from police and harassment from the homeless people she believes are involved in the drug trafficking she's trying to stop.

Police could catch drug dealers with undercover cops every day if they just came at the right time, Alderson said, and prostitutes solicit openly from the Elks Lodge steps and use the small park across Kinoole Street to conduct their business at night.

"You can watch them deal (drugs) plainly at 4 p.m.," she said. "I've watched the transfers happen. If I can see it, it's being done blatantly all over. In six months policing hasn't done anything."

But she also said that the drug-users have lookouts for police. And a frustrated police officer told her, "We bust 'em and they're right back out."

"We just go around in circles," said Lt. James Sanborn, head of the community policing program in the Hawaii County Police Department. In 1995 when the program started, the homeless were concentrated downtown. Since then, police have seen the homeless population spread to the surrounding neighborhoods and communities.

Community policing officers are reminded to be compassionate, and to ask themselves whether what they do is really going to work when dealing with the homeless, Sanborn said. "If not, we're going to have to start thinking out of the box."

Someone took a dislike for Alderson's attempts to roust drug-users and hookers, writing "Fat pig go home" in lipstick on her shop window, she said. "I just went over to talk with them. I'd like to get them the health services they need."

Alderson locked the bathrooms at the back of her building and removed an outdoor shower because they attracted vagrants from the park. She suggested that the Police Department assign an officer to walk a beat in the area to get a better handle on the situation, rather than rotating police officers through the area. "They keep exchanging these people."

Another homeless refuge is the Wallace discount theater a block away from Kalakaua Park, where rock-bottom prices have attracted low-income homeless people to the theater's comfortable confines. Theater management, which would not respond for comment on this story, recently established new rules for bags and other items that can be brought into the theater in an attempt to curtail drug and alcohol use following at least two incidents when police were called to quell violent disturbances by theater-goers.

Sanborn said the homeless are increasing, but most significantly in Kona, where some of East Hawaii's former homeless residents have gone. The Hilo population has remained relatively stable, he said.

And though the ranks of the homeless are being swelled by people from the mainland, most are longtime residents of Hawaii, according to a 2003 study by SMS Research of Honolulu. Thirty-nine percent of the homeless in Hawaii County say they are lifetime residents of Hawaii. More than half have lived in the state more than 20 years, and 56 percent are Hawaiian or part-Hawaiian.

Lincoln Park, which was renovated in 1999 with nearly a half-million dollars in federal funds earmarked for projects in low-income areas, attracts homeless who eat free meals at the Salvation Army across Ponahawai Street. Often the park crowd is divided between the moms and kids on the jungle gym equipment on the Kinoole side of the street, and homeless people occupying pavilions at the makai end of the park.

After the park was renovated, then-mayor Stephen Yamashiro, in a ribbon-cutting address, pledged the park would be alcohol-, drug- and tobacco-free.

Since then, limited police presence in the park curtailed some of that activity. But since the Police Department's D.A.R.E. program ceased using the park's substation office as a store for kids in the program, complaints and police calls to the park for unruly behavior, drug and alcohol use have increased, said Pat Engelhard, director of the county's Parks and Recreation Department.

"I have noticed a lot more vagrants," she said. Parents who bring their children to the park have complained about "people hanging around."

Groups such as the Big Island Press Club, which used to meet regularly in Lincoln Park, stopped going there within the past year after members were accosted.

Sanborn said police pressure on the homeless at Mooheau Bus Terminal, and on sidewalks and doorways of downtown businesses, have moved many of the homeless toward Lincoln Park.

"They have to go somewhere," Sanborn said. "The Salvation Army's doing things to help those people."

Engelhard said she gets complaints from Lincoln Park users about homeless people, but complaints from Kalakaua Park are getting more prevalent. At Lincoln Park, she said, complaints come from people with permits to use the pavilions that are occupied by homeless people who don't want to move.

In one case, a vagrant sleeping on a picnic table bench that was reserved moved only a few feet away when asked, then begged for food from the partygoers.

"All we can do is call police," she said. But most people don't call until later, "then they expect us to do something. They only complain after the fact."

Sanborn also recommends calling police. But police are also mindful of the fine line they tread. Otherwise law-abiding homeless people have just as much right to be in the park as anyone else, he said.

Sanborn said he's seen perhaps a slight increase in homeless activity in downtown Hilo, but nothing significant. Incidents that patrol officers have responded to in the park have been for minor disturbances, he said.

Meanwhile, "No-smoking" signs were once posted there, and should be posted again. It's a violation to smoke in Lincoln Park, he said.

Carol Ignacio, director of the Office of Social Ministries, which provides food, shelter and other services to homeless people, also said police are frustrated at the "constant windmill" of homeless people being arrested and put back onto the street because the justice and health systems cannot deal with their problems. "We're failing to treat them effectively," she said.

"They won't go to the (shelters) because they don't like the rules," Ignacio said. "People are falling through the cracks. It's a socialization issue."

Many actually have homes but suffer mental illness coupled with drug and alcohol problems. "We know who all the people are. There are only about a half dozen who actually cause trouble," she said.

"They are hooked up with mental health services or should be. They're not functional. You can't force them to take medication."

"For years we've had these spots where people congregate," Ignacio said. "The people at King's Landing, for example, are not homeless, they're houseless. They're comfortable. People go where they feel connected."

"The community dictates the law," Ignacio said. Her Care-A-Van workers used to make a regular stop at the Mooheau bus terminal to help the homeless. "We got nailed for perpetuating the lifestyle. We were giving them soap. It's a double whammy for us.

"If anybody is acting up, we're the first ones to call the cops." But she said police are discouraged and often not properly trained to handle mental health problems. "The police have their hands tied."

Slow responses by police called to homeless-related problems also bother business owners. "We don't want to be a nuisance with the police, but when we call we want them to come," says Jayme Woodall, co-owner of Island Cantina. "It's usually for a pretty good reason. They say it was worse before we came" in April. "We're trying to stay on top of it."

Ignacio said there are definitely more homeless people now. "The numbers are increasing among families. There are more ... marginal homeless, too," she said.

Because police are understaffed, ill-equipped to handle social problems, and frustrated by the system, it's understandable that they give low priority to such calls, said retired District Court Judge Jeffrey Choi. "Most (homeless) have mental problems. It's not easy to control."

Choi, who retired from the bench in 2003, saw homeless people come though his court by the hundreds. He said it's "remarkable" how many are homeless by choice. "There is a significant number who choose not to avail themselves of services, refusing offers of shelter.

"It's tough" Choi said. "The courts have been pretty good at telling them to take medication." Many refuse, however, and no one can force them. "I would tell them (in court) it's their choice, but if they're going to throw rocks at people, then I have to lock them up."

Nevertheless, the system amounts to a revolving door, Choi said. "It's frustrating." The state's mental health facilities can only take a small number, he said. "The rest are wandering the street.

"What's a police officer to do? The person's not a criminal but a pain in the butt for society."

Judges will get calls from the jail prior to planned prisoner releases, Choi said. "Every so often they open up the gates, let people out who shouldn't be.

"They'll tell me, so-and-so, so-and-so, and so-and-so are being released. What can you do?"

Ignacio said the community needs to make a commitment to a solution. A problem as simple and troublesome as people urinating and defecating in public places takes a commitment, she said. "Are there public bathrooms? Where do you go?"

Mermel said the DIA is eager to find and implement solutions. "Three years ago the worst place was Mooheau Park," Mermel said. The DIA worked with county officials, police officers, and its own members to clean it up. Police patrols were beefed up, surveillance cameras were installed, bathrooms were closed at night, and plans are being developed to install more lighting.

The DIA also works with the Office of Social Ministry and mental health services on outreach programs to help provide needed services for the homeless.

Central Christian Church Pastor Rob Daley, who also chairs the Downtown Improvement Association's Public Safety Committee, said the DIA also has launched "Aloha Patrol." DIA members, police and prosecutors walk the downtown streets two to four nights a month. "Just the presence of people interrupts the activities that may have become habitual," Daley said.

"Our church was notorious" as a gathering place for homeless drug abusers, he said. Over the past couple of years, Daley said he has helped some of them stabilize their lives. "They started working on my side," he said.

Daley also said the end of Kilauea Avenue between Haili and Mamo streets has been declared a "Drug-Free Zone," where businesses and residents are vigilant to suspected illegal drug use and other activities.

But so far it's not enough. "We're working with the police for more presence," Mermel said. "We, as a community, have to lobby. We want to see beat officers on foot or on bikes. It's done in Kona, in Honolulu. When is it coming to Hilo?"

Mermel said the first step in solving the problem is to recognize it. "It's not going to go away. We can no longer be in denial." The other thing is for the community to "step up to the plate and tackle this with compassion and aloha."

The DIA is considering a proposal to build showers and bathrooms for the homeless in a "wet building" facility somewhere in downtown Hilo where the homeless could gather, shower, and eat in a relatively clean, safe and stress-free environment.

"The solution can't be a Band-Aid," said Daley. "It has to meet their basic needs."

"Our intention is to start somewhere," Mermel said. "The community has to make the commitment. I think we can do more."

Hunter Bishop can be reached at hunter@hawaiitribune-
herald.com

Here are some personal stories.. break your heart until you realized that each one of these people is a WANTED criminal with outstanding warrants for real crimes. Intens of arresting them and turning them over for extradition, we make celebraties out of them, and create some sick romatic notion of how free and wonderful the life style of tresspass is. UGGH (and no mention of the hate crime against Rosalie, but she is white and female so no matta)

Tuesday, Jun 22, 2004
Lincoln Park is a draw


By HUNTER BISHOP
Lorine Crider lay on her side, hands folded beneath her head for a pillow. Only a flattened cardboard box served to cushion the concrete floor of the main pavilion in Lincoln Park.

Homeless, frustrated and angry, Crider lifted her head long enough to scold a couple of children she thought were interrupting their mother's conversation with another person.

Crider, 47, moved to Hilo several years ago while on parole from a Texas prison. She wanted to be near her children and grandchildren, but they care little about her, she said.

"They help me sometimes with getting to doctors' appointments. Sometimes they come, sometimes they don't. I don't see eye-to-eye with my son's girlfriend," she said.

Sometimes they bring the grandchildren to Lincoln Park where Crider sees them. "That's why I come here," she said. "I was hoping they'd come today."

Crider owns the typically haggard look and gravely voice that comes with chronic homelessness. While she might have gotten a job in Texas, she said it is difficult for a haole ex-con from the mainland to find work in Hawaii. She could return to Texas but would rather be near her family.

"Yeah, I want help," she said. "I get food stamps. (But) I have to apply again and again, every month. There's no transportation. Hawaii's f-----d up," she said, releasing tears of frustration.

"The police harass everybody," she said. "It makes a lot of people angry. It ain't right."

At night she will either walk back to a camp near Keaau, or "I stay here in town and walk around."

After dark, when the parks close, is often the toughest time. The homeless are vulnerable to thievery and violence. "One guy one time threatened to shoot me with a hypodermic needle," she said.

"It's very dangerous out here. A lot of people are homeless. It makes me sad. I go to my daughter's and I worry about the people out here ... ." Her worry then pulls her back to life on the street, she said.

"I have a lot of people make (dead), ... (from) pneumonia, drugs, no place to go." Yet police will ticket people they catch sleeping in certain places, she said. "It's very upsetting."

Crider, born in San Antonio, Texas, said she drinks but takes no other drugs and gets no financial help from the government. "I don't get no money."

"We need shelter," she pleaded, but not like the existing one. "That's uncool." The homeless just need a place where they could all just go to sleep, she said. "If I was rich I would have a big old place just for the homeless."

What about the future? "I don't know, Crider said. "Right now I just want to take this floor board over there to lay down and get rid of this yelling and screaming" from nearby children at play.

Silverfeather Wal-Raven, who walked over to Lincoln Park from the tennis courts across the street, sat down on the ground in a corner of the park with Crider. Wal-Raven was still fuming over the errant behavior of her partner, who was still acting up across the street. Wal-Raven was trying to calm down. She pulled a can of Natural Ice beer from her bag, popped it open and sipped. Crider gave her a cigarette.

"Same thing, every day," said Wal-Raven, 46. She's from a well-to-do family in Waimea that shunned her, she said, when she started drinking again after being in an automobile accident. That was three-and-a-half years ago; Wal-Raven said it's been more than two years since she's seen her daughter.

She drinks every day and doesn't take her prescribed medication because it often gets lost or stolen. When off her medication, "I want to isolate," Wal-Raven said. "But I can't because everywhere I go I get hassled."

"It's very bad for us. It's crazy," said Crider. "The police keep telling us where to go, then they tell us we have to get out. Then they ask, 'Why don't you just go home?'

"This is our home. We're not hurting anyone. We're not stealing because we know what it's like to be stole from," said Crider. "The young punks come and steal from us while we sleep."

Stephen "Jungle Boy" Levin approached excitedly and said he'd just been kicked out of a friend's house where he'd been staying. Levin, 25, who says he's wanted on burglary and theft charges in Oregon, has been "in and out of homeless situations" repeatedly since moving to Hawaii a couple of years ago.

Nonetheless, the lifestyle still holds some romantic appeal for Levin.

"I don't mind sleeping outside," he said. He eats handouts, fruit from trees and searches trash containers for food. "Sometimes I crave dumpster food," he said, "like good fermented potatoes."

He made an impression on local homeless folk when he fell out of a tree in which he was sleeping, in front of a group at Lincoln Park. This was shortly after he'd arrived in Hilo, and with that introduction he earned the nickname "Jungle Boy."

Levin skipped out on his probation in Oregon to "grow ganja" with a friend who'd started an operation in Puna. He ended up on the streets mostly because of his drug problem. "Pot, heroin, alcohol, ... now it's prescription pills." His biggest problem is dental care, he said, displaying a gap in his smile where a tooth recently came out.

How does he get money? "Sugar mamas," said the homeless Lothario.

In Honolulu there are day-labor programs, which Levin would like to see here. "I don't like filling out job applications, dressing up," he said. "It would be a total boon here, to have enough money for food, a sleeping bag, dog food."

Levin lives by a simple definition of happiness that "entails warmth and some kind of buzz." But he dreams of more, perhaps even going back to school. "There are lots of things I'd like to do besides sit in the park and drink beer," he said.

That said, he was off as fast as he arrived.

The homeless life is not one they choose as much as it is one they no longer can escape. Even something as simple as installing small, terminal-style lockers at the Mooheau bus station for the homeless, who must haul their belongings wherever they go, would help a lot, Wal-Raven said. To the homeless, little things like that count. "You put up with so much pressure, somebody is sure to come along and push your button," she said.

"We're just all trying so hard to stay out of trouble," Crider said.

Ironically, before the East Hawaii Coalition for the Homeless took over the former Hilo Hotel two years ago with plans to turn it into a homeless shelter, the homeless were already using the empty and abandoned rooms, said Wal-Raven. Now the homeless no longer use the hotel since the coalition cleaned it up and awaits the financing needed for the conversion.

"They need to make that place ... for the homeless," she said. But not a structured shelter like the coalition's facility on Kapiolani Street.

"I'll take my chances out here, first," Wal-Raven said. "We had that shelter. Why'd they close it down?"

Hunter Bishop can be reached at hunter@hawaiitribune-herald.com

I dont know where to begin. The noble DIA guy wanting to aid and abet them, to the guy wanted for robbery that is made to look like some romantic character, when really hes a male hooker and drug dealer that used to hang out near my old shop.

A guy got big and bad with Woody over on the Kona side cause Woody "wouldnt help him out." Woody said he told the guy..."look, Im two payments down on my house I have bills up the ying yang, I have to be away from my wife to have any sort of a job and you want me to give you money? HOw about giving me money..." He said that he pulled a DRG and was screaming at the guy... backing him down the driveway till he ran away...I know how he feels...

I bring this up to the blogging world that this is Hawaii. people come here thinking you can just live on the beach and eat wild fruit and everyone is one big Tutu and all is aloha. Truth is this is one of the toughest enclaves to break into and like that home less angry park sleeper...it hard..and no one gives a rip.

What do you all think? What happens in your city or area with people like this? What do you think I should do when I am harassed by these people because they think I have a lot when I fought for every bit of it. I will pass on the bits of wisdom, for we in Hilo need all the wisdom we can find...