The Derelict Will Always Be With Us

Notes from the progressive policy jungle

Image altered to remove identifying details

The stone steps beneath the elegant wrought iron gates in the church doorway had become a hangout for vagrant men. A missionary church is not the sort of place you would expect to turn away people who are sleeping outdoors, but I suspect the smell overpowered Christian charity.

A street corner stunk of weed and urine and unwashed mental illness. Litter and cigarette butts and abandoned clothing were always strewn about. Pedestrians saw the clique gathered, three or four or five homeless men at a time, and avoided walking past the church. Reduced foot traffic affected local businesses.

This week, the steps are blocked off by artfully-constructed wooden fences. The men are gone. The smell, the trash, the soiled, discarded clothing: all gone. The street is very nearly clean, or as clean as city streets get. Pedestrians pass through the shady spot they had avoided before. Urban nature is healing.

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Skyline

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