Houseless people and members of other disenfranchised communities have called Old Town home throughout Portland’s history. But eight months into a global pandemic, the suffering and poverty laid bare on the neighborhood’s streets is a humanitarian crisis that screams for attention.
While homelessness has become more apparent in many of Portland’s neighborhoods, along thoroughfares and bike paths, Old Town remains one of the areas of the city most saturated with people surviving outdoors — their tents, tarps and sleeping bags serving as their only defense against the coronavirus and a frigid, wet winter already upon us.
Photographer B Okabe ventured into Old Town to capture a snapshot of this moment in the neighborhood’s history.
Since the pandemic took hold of the city earlier this year, Street Roots has watched as people living outside on Old Town’s sidewalks have settled into a routine, now unburdened from continuous camp sweeps that often kept people shuffling around, moving their gear night after night. This has made homelessness, always present in the neighborhood, more visible during the day, as tents remain erect and outdoor communities are built. Anecdotally, some service providers and houseless people believe the number of people living outside in the area has increased.
Meanwhile, many small businesses, hit hard economically by the pandemic, continue to operate alongside campers. The juxtaposition of commerce and coffee shops against rows of tents and other structures defines a neighborhood where the relationship between those living and those working at the street level blows hot and cold.
Here, a patron works on her computer inside the coffee shop at the Society Hotel on Northwest Third Avenue and Davis Street. Outside, people live in tents and a methadone clinic remains operable across the street.
Dr. Mike, who said he often sits on a sidewalk vent to stay warm, expressed gratitude for local services.
When the governor issued “stay home” orders in March, many agencies that serve people experiencing homelessness transitioned to shorter hours and offered fewer services — and in some cases, closed their doors. This brought people from other areas of the city to Old Town, where limited resources are still available. Pictured here, Blanchet House still serves three meals a day through a service window on the sidewalk. Before the pandemic, people could gain respite from the elements by dining inside at tables.
Many agencies are still operating under reduced capacities. Meanwhile, the vulnerable people who rely on them continue to shelter in place outside, shut out of nearly all the indoor spaces that were open to them before the pandemic began.
Shoes hang inside a tent to dry. People experiencing homelessness often suffer from foot problems caused by ill-fitting or worn out shoes; wet shoes; shelter showers shared by hundreds and often teeming with bacteria or viruses that can cause skin diseases, abscesses and infections; and long hours spent standing in lines and walking.
Perlia Bell loads up her car in preparation for her shift as an outreach worker for JOIN, a Portland nonprofit that helps people transition from homelessness into permanent housing. Bell has been serving the downtown area for many years. What she sees now is “really an overflow of homeless individuals and families. Before (COVID-19), it was mostly individuals, but now it’s multiple families and bigger tents,” she said. “They’re exhausted and tired. I used to be able to talk to them about housing or placing them somewhere until they get into housing. Now that’s all in the future because everything is mostly done on computers and right now landlords aren’t really apt to just let (houseless) people live there.”
Many people who are sleeping outside in Old Town have expressed the importance and lack of bathroom and shower access, two basic needs that are no longer available in the ways they were before the pandemic. “Showers and bathrooms are limited,” said Rich, who has been sleeping in Old Town since the pandemic hit. “My body is burned from an explosion in February, and I still haven’t been able to heal because of that,” he said. When asked what resources or agencies he seeks support from, Rich said most of his meals come from Blanchet House. "They serve three times a day and that helps.”
Gabriel said he has been uncomfortable with people taking photographs without asking since COVID-19 and the protests began earlier this year. “It’s really awkward,” Gabriel said, “like, people just come by and take photos, and it honestly sucks.” Here, he conceals his face with his dog, Buddy, beside the tent he and his girlfriend have been living in since the pandemic began.
For various reasons, getting to appointments or even being able to pick up prescriptions has been challenging for many houseless people who need mental health care. “There should be more programs like NAFY (New Avenues For Youth) has, but for adults,” said Michael, who has been sleeping in Old Town for nine months. “It would be really cool to see that kind of support for older people, like the elderly. They shouldn’t be out here.”
Kenneth Brown works at Broadway Cannabis Market across the street from Transitions Projects, which provides homeless services, and C3PO, a sanctioned camp. Brown said business hasn’t really slowed during the pandemic. Being across the street from a large number of folks sleeping outside means he gets to interact with a lot of these individuals regularly. “I have seen (cannabis) get some people off methadone, and some people kind of need it for their other mental things too so, you know, I feel like we are bud tenders and therapists.”
Brown also said he constantly reminds people to wear their masks, to keep them over their noses and not to touch items in the store unless they have purchased them already. “People get frustrated for sure, but it is what it is,” he said. “We are risking our health and safety to get people their weed.”
Susie, 77, shown at left sanitizing between customers at the Chinatown Convenience Store, said she's also seen plenty of customers who refuse to wear masks. “When they come in, I ask, ‘Mask, please.’ They just ignore (me),” she said. Timothy Tu, 63, pictured at right, has been working at the store for almost two years. Business has slowed, he said, so the store has curtailed its hours. When asked about working closely with the public during the pandemic, Tu said, “I think everybody is a bit nervous. Hopefully it will get better soon.”
Susie said she was helping her friend out at the store. “The Chinese community is close,” she said. "Business is about the same, but more homeless in the area. Used to have empty sidewalks here.”
Mike sits with his friend after drinking his morning coffee. “Aside from the occasional honking and yelling,” Mike said, “it’s pretty quiet here. No one bothers us.”
The Lan Su Chinese Garden in Old Town serves as a serene urban escape to the poverty and suffering that surrounds it. Tents serving as their occupants’ only line of defense against a pandemic and winter weather surround the walls of the garden.
Laura Brown is the Clean Start Business Manager for Central City Concern (CCC). Before finding the Janitor Trainee Program at CCC a decade ago, she spent many years struggling with substance use disorder and was in out of incarceration. The Janitor Trainee Program is an opportunity for previously homeless individuals to transition into jobs and self-sufficiency. “It’s something I love doing — working with people who come from the same background, and to help give people a hand up,” Brown said.
With numerous small businesses in the area closing and tourism slowing, a lot of people who sleep outside have also lost access to certain forms of income. “Before COVID, there was more opportunity for folks to panhandle or collect cans, which may be someone’s only means to get money,” Brown said. “That’s not an option anymore. Folks have come on hard times, harder than they already had it.”
Kristopher Jeffries works on Central City Concern’s Clean and Safe Street Crew, cleaning up the Old Town area and helping local businesses when they need support. He was houseless for 10 years and is now in a position to give back. Jeffries, who was recently promoted to a supervisor position, said the best thing about his job is helping make people’s space “as clean and livable as it can be.”
Clean and Safe collected over 6,000 pounds of glass at the end of May, when the downtown protests began in response to the police killing of George Floyd.
From January through October, Clean and Safe has collected nearly 37,000 hypodermic needles, nearly 70,000 pounds of trash, and 2,072 liters of urine and feces (biohazards). Trash and biohazard volumes are consistent with 2019, but the program has already picked up 2,000 more syringes than all of 2019.
Despite the hardships, people still have love and appreciation for what they have. Regina, a 60-year-old widow, said she has been sleeping in the Old Town area for four years. Although she is often in physical pain, she maintains a positive outlook and is thankful for all the agencies doing what they have been able to do. “It’s hard, but I’ve seen people have it harder,” she said.
More photo stories:
• Generosity, humility and vulnerability inside the camps of Portland (by Benjamin Brink)
• At the People’s Store, mutual aid for houseless Portlanders (by B Okabe)
• Art of the uprising (by Benjamin Brink)