What you are about to read is true — it happened to me on Labor Day weekend.

It was another result of the strange and hostile public behavior that I have seen since the introduction of the Care Not Cash plan and other anti-homeless city policies. This is my story.

On the evening of September 2, 2002 I was returning to where I spend my nights from a trip to my storage locker for clean clothes, and the McMillan Center where I had taken a shower. At about 8:10 pm I was walking east on Turk Street, coming from the bus stop at Van Ness.

I was hungry, so when I got to the corner of Polk and Turk Streets I decided to go to Kentucky Fried Chicken to get something to eat. I crossed Polk Street, and turned left to head north up Polk to get to the K.F.C. at the corner of Polk and Eddy Streets.

There were some people hanging out in front of a bar called the Wooden Horse. As I passed one girl who looked familiar I said, “How ya doin’?” She smiled and said, “I’m good. How are you?”

As I walked past her I noticed two white guys, smoking in front of the bar’s door, acting drunk and angry and cursing a lot. I paid no special attention until one of them looked directly at me and shouted, “HEY, NIGGER MOTHERFUCKER!”

At first, I was shocked that he actually said that to me, but I tried to ignore him and kept walking. He said it again, but louder, “HEY NIGGER! I’M TALKING TO YOU, PUNK!”

I paused, and asked, “Why are you saying this when I don’t even know you?” His reply was, “FUCK YOU!”

He approached me, blocking my way. His friend was behind me. I walked around him and kept walking away. He and his friend started following me until I stopped to let them pass me. When they passed me, I backed up in the direction of the bar. One was about my size and the other one was bigger (note: the writer is 6’4” and weighs about 290 lbs.). When I stopped backing up, they both turned around and came towards me. That’s when I knew I was in trouble. The biggest one was again blocking my way, while his friend was behind me.

I said, “What problem do you have with me? I’m just a homeless advocate who works around the corner.”

Then he really got angry. “You represent those sorry-ass people? You should be agreeing with Newsom and his plan, you fuck.”

I told him, “I don’t think so. Do you work for Newsom or something?”

At this point he started dancing around like he was in a boxing ring. Realizing that he was ready to charge, I tried to take off my backpack. That’s when his friend grabbed my backpack from behind. I turned to push the guy behind me away, and turned around front just in time to see the big guy coming at me with some type of clublike object in his hand.

I saw it too late and was hit hard. Blood immediately gushed from my head as I went down. I tried to get up, and was hit again above the eye. I started going down again while trying to get away from him, but I had blood in my eyes and couldn’t see so I landed on the ground hard. I turned to see where he was, and I could see him coming to kick me some more…

then I blacked out.

When I came to, a blonde paramedic kneeling next to me was saying, “You’re going to be all right, bro’. You’ve been assaulted and you’re injured. The police are here investigating this incident and you’re going to S.F. General Hospital for treatment.”

The paramedics loaded me in the ambulance and the blonde-haired guy asked me, “What happened?” At first I said, “I don’t know” because I really couldn’t remember. A few minutes later I could remember that I was struck by an object about twelve inches long and about two inches in diameter. I said, “Wait, that guy hit me with something.”

The paramedic asked, “Could you tell me what it was?”

“I can describe it to you but I don’t know what it was.”

He said, “O.K. — don’t worry about it. Just rest until we get to the hospital.”

I blacked out again.

When I came to, I was on a gurney being wheeled into the Trauma Center at S.F.G.H. I was asked to slide over to the waiting bed and relax until the doctor arrived. The doctor checked me out thoroughly to see if there was any serious damage.

The doctor asked, “Do you know where you are?”

I said, “Yes. I’m in S.F.G.H. in San Francisco.” She then said, “You don’t have a concussion, but you might have headaches for a few days.”

One of the nurses then confides, “Y’know, since the introduction of that Care Not Cash and other policies we’ve seen an increase in street violence.”

That was when I decided to write an article about what happened — and maybe increase some people’s awareness about what kind of behavior anti-homeless attitudes can lead to.

At 3:00 am some friends from work arrived and took me back to their home to recover. After several hours of rest, I was able to think a lot clearer on this matter. These are my thoughts.

Since the first words shouted at me contained the “N” word, I believe that these two guys had a real problem with me being a person of color.

This could be the reason why they singled me out and started trouble with me.

Noticing my backpack could have led them to believe that I was homeless, and maybe they felt like they had a beef with homeless people. But when I told them that I was a homeless advocate — that’s what took them over the edge.

This attack was from ignorant people with wrongful and uncaring beliefs. It describes the cycle of stupid, blind hatred and violence in San Francisco today.

As a result, I am now a surviving victim of a hate crime.

I’m homeless, but if I’d been a homeless person who didn’t have the friends that I do, I imagine that I would have been a lot more scared. I guess I could have gone to a shelter for safety, but what shelter would have had a bed available at 3am?

Anti-homeless policies like Care Not Cash or making it illegal to sleep in your car can create panic for homeless people. Some homeless people cling only to survival when someone in City Hall is plotting to take away our source of income, or confiscate our “homes” and possessions.

The newspapers support these anti-homeless feelings, and all this causes frustrated residents to blame homeless people for all these rising tensions.

I’ve heard that Gavin Newsom actually had to hire his own personal security to guard him wherever he goes. Is Gavin afraid that what happened to me might happen to him?

I’ve also read about these supposed endorsements that Prop. N had and lost in the same week. Political figures and policies like these are on a self-destruct course, and taking the rest of the City down with them. When politician after politician runs for office claiming that all of us homeless people are the “them” sucking the economic and scenic life’s blood from all of “us,” it can only lead to hate — and not just here in San Francisco but across the country.

If what you are reading right now were to be read by every citizen in town, whether they were homeless or not, what would they think of present city policies then? Do we really think that the people of San Francisco could elect someone mayor whose campaign is breeding such antisocial and violent acts?

So, Mr. Supervisor Gavin Newsom: Do you care? Do you care enough to change?

Willie Warren

This entry was posted on Tuesday, October 1st, 2002 at 12:10 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.