December 09, 2011

Scenes from the Occupation: Protesters at the Downtown Boise encampment face cold, skepticism

BY KATY MOELLER - kmoeller@idahostatesman.com

Copyright: © 2011 Idaho Statesman

Jeff Shaw nestled in a pile of sleeping bags and blankets inside a tent at Occupy Boise’s encampment late Tuesday night. He drifted off to sleep, but woke to a startling thought.

“What if I freeze to death?” the 23-year-old wondered.

The lean, blond musician from Utah, who counts his guitar among his few possessions, recalled the sensation of his heart slowing down.

“It felt weird,” he said Wednesday morning, shivering as he gnawed on a bagel.

Occupy Boise formed about two months ago, setting up a tent city — which members call an “indefinite vigil” — Nov. 5.

Passersby wonder why they see so few people outside the rainbow of tents at 5th and Jefferson streets, across from the Idaho Statehouse. One reason: It’s cold. The high temperature is in the 30s, dipping into the teens at night. It was 13 degrees early Thursday.

Paul Johnson, a 30-year-old DJ, said if he doesn’t turn in by 7 or 8 p.m., he waits until sunrise. It feels much warmer in his tent after the sun comes up.

“I’m usually too cold to sleep before that,” he said. “At 2 or 3 in the morning, I’m cold to the point that getting into the sleeping bag is going to take hours to get warm.”

Some go to warmer places or off to look for jobs in the morning. Those who have jobs split their time between home and the encampment, which has two portable toilets but no showers.

An 18-year-old with military-short hair and braces who gave his name as Mike was among those who said he had no trouble sleeping in the frigid temperatures.

“I think you sleep better knowing that you’re doing something (purposeful), rather than sitting home at night watching ‘Family Guy’ at 1 o’clock in the morning,” he said.

HOW MANY ARE THERE?

Campers say the number ranges between 10 to 30, depending on the night.

Dean Gunderson, a former Ada County planner who now works as a planning consultant, said he spends about 15 hours a week at the camp. But he doesn’t sleep there.

“I slept there the first two nights and got a cold,” he said. Gunderson said he also suffers from rheumatoid arthritis.

The camp has more than 30 tents, and some “condos” made from wood pallets, cardboard, leaves and tarps.

The regular campers this week included a core group of young and middle-aged men, some of whom are homeless and looking for work. Others have jobs.

Art Stark is a 42-year-old chairlift operator just waiting for snow to get back to work. Another camper is a sex offender released from prison in November; he said the encampment is one of the few places he’s found support.

Boise business owner Robert Stevahn has attended the camp’s General Assembly meetings and is acting as a legal observer. “I consider myself a participant, even though I haven’t camped,” he said. “Almost all of us have jobs, or are full-time students, and that makes organizing very difficult.”

An elderly man who dropped off a bag of food at the camp Wednesday stopped to offer some kind words, “Thanks for doing this. It takes a lot to be down here in the cold.”

WHO’S IN CHARGE?

That’s the question an 87-year-old Elmore County man who visited the camp asked the first occupier he saw on Wednesday.

The answer: No single person oversees the site.

The camp is open to the public, and people come and go as they please.

But there are rules. One Boise man, who became homeless a couple of months ago after losing his job, said he was told that drinking alcohol and using drugs are strictly forbidden.

Tents are set up in the grass on three sides of the old Ada County Courthouse. Critics call the camp an eyesore, but proponents believe it’s well-maintained.

Teresa Luna, director of the state Department of Administration responsible for the old courthouse, said complaints about the camp have dropped from about three to four a day to three to five a week. State security officers visit the site every day, and there have been no problems of note.

Utility construction is being done just north of the building — the future home of the University of Idaho law school — and State Street is closed for construction. Noise from backhoes and dump trucks makes conversations in the camp’s kitchen area difficult.

At night, the area is lighted by a string of white LEDs. It’s dark compared to the well-lit Capitol and brilliant Christmas tree across the street.

LIFE IN THE VILLAGE

Sunday night, about a dozen members stood around a kerosene heater for a General Assembly meeting in a large dark-green tent on the 6th Street side. A few candles and headlamps provided minimal light. The meeting — open to members and the public — are held several times a week. Minutes are posted at OccupyBoise.org.

Outside that tent is a large cardboard sign that reads, “Pardon our dust, we’re building a better world.”

Several people washed dishes Monday morning, pouring boiled water into large tubs. One woman knocked ice off a spatula before throwing it in to be cleaned.

SUPPORT FROM FELLOW OCCUPIERS

Encampment supporters stop by at all hours, often bringing supplies and words of encouragement.

On Monday, Mary Bolognino arrived with pots filled with Spanish rice and beans. She wanted to contribute, even if she couldn’t stay at the encampment.

“I slept down here one night, and it took me two weeks to get rid of my back pain,” said Bolognino.

Bolognino, a retired medical research technician, moved to Idaho from upstate New York about a year ago to be near her daughter.

She’s part of Occupy Boise because she’s “tired of the government being controlled by the 1 percent.”

“It’s obvious that 99 percent of Americans are getting screwed by greed,” she said.

Boisean Judy Taylor dropped off two coats. She has been gathering items from friends to pass along to her compadres in Occupy Boise.

Health problems keep the 69-year-old retired property manager from living at the encampment.

“I have issues with our government,” Taylor said emphatically. “I don’t care who the president is. ... I just want them to come together and solve some problems.”

Among her concerns: the mountain of student debt faced by college students, and foreclosures leaving families homeless. Taylor wants the president to recognize occupiers.

“Obama has taken no position,” she said. “I think he needs to address them.”

She’s saving up so she can travel to Washington, D.C., in the spring to be part of a national Occupy demonstration.

TAKING ACTION IN THE COMMUNITY

Occupy groups make decisions by consensus. But members are empowered to take on leadership roles. That was evident Tuesday morning, when two twentysomethings led campers on a mission to help clean up a nearby neighborhood.

Daniel Grad walked through the encampment, calling out to zipped-up tents:

“Breakfast is served.”

“Action in a half-hour.”

“All interested hands on deck.”

The 24-year-old from Cascade said he is a “traditionally conservative person” who favors smaller government. He was previously involved with the tea party.

“It’s been an interesting time of discovery down here,” he said. “I’ve never been around people who haven’t had homes.”

He’s more sympathetic, he said, and able to “see everyone for what they are, as opposed to filters given to us.”

While Grad grabbed markers and cardboard to make protest signs, 21-year-old Brian Gabbitas rallied the campers with a short speech about the damage of foreclosures on families and neighborhoods.

Full of nervous energy, Gabbitas puffed on a cigarette while he spoke. When not at the camp, he works two jobs, including as a restaurant server. He’s been fighting a sinus infection, a cold and bronchitis for weeks; he doesn’t have health insurance.

The group of about 10 occupiers looked cold, groggy and a bit disheveled as they marched off to foreclosed homes in the North End with rakes and bags for leaves.

Gabbitas said Occupy Boise would eventually move into the homes. They plan to turn them over to homeless families or make them community centers.

The group spent a couple of hours raking leaves at three homes Tuesday. Glenda Robertson, who lives on 7th Street, was delighted.

“I think it’s really nice because they obviously care more about the North End than owners of some of these properties,” she said.

She hadn’t gone down to see the encampment, nor had she given the movement much thought.

“I don’t know how their sitting-in down there is going to affect the banks,” she said.

POLICING THE CAMP, OR HARASSMENT?

Occupy Boise trains some members to be “legal observers” who keep a watchful eye over the camp. They videotape any problems. They work in shifts. Despite that, some electronics were stolen early on, including a cellphone and a portable stereo.

In the past couple of weeks, police have been driving by the camp late at night, using a spotlight to observe goings-on. Some of the campers consider it harassment.

Early Tuesday, occupiers saw something even stranger.

Johnson, the DJ, was serving as legal observer on the midnight-to-4 a.m. shift. He was warming himself at the wood-burning stove near the kitchen at 3:27 a.m. when a camper ran up to say he saw a man holding what appeared to be an infrared camera.

“We witnessed him sweeping tents and looking into the monitor,” Johnson said. When Johnson approached, the man stopped and got into Boise police car No. 121.

“I definitely had an unsettled feeling about it,” he said.

Occupiers suspected that police are trying to get a “body count” at the camp or catch illegal activity.

Boise police spokeswoman Lynn Hightower didn’t address the complaint about harassment. She did say officers are patrolling for the safety of people at the camp and surrounding area.

“It may compromise public and officer safety to elaborate on specific officer actions,” she said.

THE PENDULUM SWINGS

Duwayne Jones visited the encampment for the first time Wednesday morning. The homeless man, who has a long white beard, had hoped to scare up a hot cup of coffee on his 68th birthday.

While Jones sat on an overturned bucket soaking up the sun, a group of Mountain View High School photography students with cameras around their necks approached and asked if they could take Jones’ picture.

He agreed, and the kids gathered around to snap photos. After they left, the self-described Navy veteran with three grown sons was ruminating about Ralph Waldo Emerson and human nature, including why the rich “grab and grab and grab.”

“It’s just in our DNA,” said Jones, whose loyal little dog, Maggie, is his constant companion.

“If you look at ancient history, the pendulum swings,” Jones said. “There’s always been a battle between the rich and poor.”

Katy Moeller: 377-6413