Homeless people in Phoenix will suddenly become visible as 'The Zone' is dismantled
Some years ago my son and I came upon a homeless man shortly after he transitioned from the invisible to the visible.
By dying.
We were headed toward Chase Field to watch a ballgame.
The dead man was seated on a metal bench, facing north, near Second and Monroe streets. He was slouched awkwardly over an armrest and partly covered by a thin sheet that had been placed there by a police officer.
There was another homeless man on the bench opposite him. He was bent over and had his head in his hands, crying.
When death revealed an invisible man
The two men were brothers, Myron and Howard Marquardt.
Myron told me his brother had died in his arms. They were originally from Ohio and had lived on the streets for 30 years.
“He raised me and I raised him,” Myron said. “You know? And if anybody messed with one of us, the other would be at him.”
They’d been in and around downtown Phoenix for years, Myron told me. I’d worked downtown for years, and never saw them.
Howard’s death made them visible.
We'll see more when 'The Zone' is cleared
It takes something like that, something drastic, for homeless people to be seen by us.
That will happen on May 10, when the city of Phoenix begins the process of moving people out of “The Zone” — the large tent city near 12th Avenue and Madison Street.
You’ve probably not been there, though it’s pretty close to the Arizona Capitol complex.
If you had any business in the area you avoided it, having heard about the ramshackle mix of tarps and cardboard boxes and tents that stretches for blocks.
It’s been “home,” if that is the right word, for hundreds of invisible men and women.
Rising costs and a lack of resources to help
They’ve always been in the area. They’re everywhere, actually.
Lately, however, the rising cost of housing and the lack of resources to help those in need have seen their numbers rise and rise.
During my first year in Phoenix, decades ago, I came upon what I thought was a fight in an alley off Jefferson Street near downtown. I stopped my car.
Policing 'The Zone': Phoenix paralyzed as population rose
It was not two men fighting, though. It was only one.
A homeless, mentally unstable pugilist was sparring with an imagined opponent, delivering blows and taking them.
Within a short time it became clear to me that neither fighter, the real one or the imagined, was visible to the men and women who whizzed by us in passing vehicles.
Can the unhoused be our neighbors?
Not long ago there was a bill in the Legislature that would have made homelessness a crime. Like an infestation.
It was sponsored by Republican Sen. Justine Wadsack, who said at the time that that “unhoused people are not our neighbors.”
Actually, they are.
Some of our holier-than-thou brothers and sisters don’t want to acknowledge that, since the Bible directs them to “love thy neighbor as thyself.”
I was contacted some time back by a young woman who went through a rough patch in her teens and found herself on the street for nine months. Unseen, she said, even by those who passed by her on the sidewalk.
At the very least, recognize them as human
She recovered. She’s one of us again. Visible.
She said she learned during her homeless days that expecting love from her neighbors was too much to ask.
“But at least look them in the eye,” she told me. “Even if you don’t want to give them anything, at least recognize them as human.”
That doesn’t sound like a lot to ask but … it is.
Because the first step in dealing with homelessness is not demonizing individuals who don’t live like the rest of us.
They’re not rodents. They’re not insects.
They’re not an infestation of any kind.
They’re people.
Reach Montini at ed.montini@arizonarepublic.com.
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This article originally appeared on Arizona Republic: Phoenix homeless will suddenly be seen as 'The Zone' is dismantled
