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Street People, Pro and
“Con”
By Karl “Safety Guy” Spaulding
“ITS NOT WORTH IT”
It was spring of 1986, and I had one quarter left before getting my crim degree. I also had a job with the Undergraduate Student Governments new CrimeWatch Escort Service at the Ohio State University. My partner that night was Chandler. As opposed to my other partner, who had to hold me back from investigating and climbing on everything, I had to hold Chandler back. He was nuts. He was also in ROTC, and this was three years before I would join the Army myself (going back to
school and CrimeWatch at the same time). Even though he was probably a bit younger than I was, Chandler was “cool.” I felt like a “cherry.”
On break we got a pizza at the Dominos which used to be at 12th and Neil. It closed right afterwards and we sat at a table near the intersection. We were hungry. So was someone else. This guy came up and asked for some pizza. “No,” said Chandler. The guy wouldnt go away. He then said if we didnt give him some, he would just “take it.”
“Its not worth it,” said my partner. I knew that Chandler carried a larger lockblade knife than I did, and now I saw him palm it. The beggar couldnt see it. “Its not worth it,” Chandler repeated. I cant remember exactly what I did to
prepare, whether I clutched my 3D MagLite closer to me or did anything else, but I was on high
alert Not so much because the idiot scared me as because I was worried that Chandler was going to knife the asshole if he grabbed for the stupid pizza! After what seemed like several minutes of the same tired dialog, he finally went
away and we ate. This is my first really good image of a “panhandler” at OSU.
MY WIFES HAVING A BABY, PART ONE
I had gotten off my CrimeWatch shift one spring night in 1993 and it was after 3 am when I got in my car and locked the door. A few moments later, as I adjusted something, a guy knocked on my drivers side window and startled me. I should have been paying better attention. My window was already cracked, so he began talking to me. “Hey, I didnt mean to scare you. Not all black people are crooks.” He then introduced himself as I sat and looked at him, getting annoyed that he thought he “scared” me. Then he said something that made me take notice: “My wife is having a baby!” Thats all I heard folks. That and something about a car. This poor guys wife was having a baby! In a car! I grabbed my MagLite from the seat and jumped out, practically knocking him down as I did so. I had to see this. Didnt know what to do about it, but I had to see it!
We were halfway across the little parking lot with my “host” still talking a mile a minute when I realized he wasnt leading me anywhere. I stopped. “Wheres your car? I asked. He motioned with a vague sweep of his arm to somewhere behind him. At that point, I realized his wife was nowhere around, and she probably didnt exist. Id been had. This guy then kept telling me they needed to get to Cincy or somewhere and he needed money for gas Oh. Yeah. Right.
Despite the feeling that he was lying his ass off, I got out my wallet and picked out a dollar. I handed it to him. He then got a real disgusted look on his face and said,
“Man, you just dont understand! My wifes having a baby and were stuck in Columbus and you only give me a dollar? I need more than that!” I told him it was all he was getting as I turned to walk back, keeping an eye on him as I left. As I drove home, and for several days afterwards, I mused
on this incident. Here I was, the “Lantern Safety Guy,” a CrimeWatch veteran (as well as a Desert Storm veteran) for several years, and the holder of a Criminology Degree (I hear all of you gasping at my worldliness) and I had just been hoodwinked by a street person. Hell, I read
Combat Handguns and Black Belt magazines, Id been to
GunSite and LFI, and a con had still conned me! I had removed my wallet right within his reach and taken my eyes off him! I thought I had learned to deal with panhandlers and their stupid stories, but I had more to learn. (When you think you know it all, thats when you start becoming a
dumbass.)
Let me say this: That guy earned his one dollar! He showed me that I could still make mistakes. Plus, I had to admit he was a good actor. That wild way he screwed up his face when I “paid” him for his “tactical training exercise” services was awesome! I dont begrudge him that dollar one bit. He woke me up.
MY WIFES HAVING A BABY, PART TWO
About a month later, it was daytime and I was on my way to an interview with Willa Young, who was head of OSU Rape Education at the time. My first quarter writing for the
Lantern was about half finished. I was walking by the Law Building towards the Student Union along High Street when a guy approached me and stuck his hand out. He looked familiar. He greeted me by introducing himself and telling me he was glad to see me. He then told me that not all black people were cons, and
HIS WIFE WAS HAVING A BABY! I laughed at him and asked him if he remembered me. No, he didnt. I tipped my desert boonie hat and asked if he remembered it. No, he didnt. I told him I remembered him. I then asked him how their first baby was doing. He denied having another baby. I then asked him how many babies his wife was going to have, etc. He got madder and madder, but I kept it up. There was some space between us, and although I was smiling, I was really pissed that this idiot thought I was stupid, so I kept rubbing it in. I left that con thoroughly fuming. Was I “tactically prudent?” No. Did I enjoy it? HELL YES!
HOMELESS BUT DIGNIFIED
I was in Sullivant Hall, using the restroom between CrimeWatch escorts, when I saw him for the first time. He was older, with a
gray beard and a bald head, which he kept bald through the use of a safety razor. He was finishing up his “shave” as I washed up. We exchanged greetings, and I found him to be pleasant, even though his head was covered in bloody cuts.
Years later he is still around. He has slept in his military fart bag outside the same building since he has been here. Ive never seen him panhandle or do anything remotely bad, other than being “homeless.” He is always pleasant, sometimes talks to himself, and is often seen talking to some of the students and staff members. I keep my dealings with him short and polite. I hope Im never ordered to run him off. He bothers no one. Rumor has it that he used to be a prof at
OSU. Who knows? What I do know is that I have this respect for him. He apparently chooses to live this way, and I cant see why anyone should complain about it. He has his bag, his pack, and his cigars. I often see him in the morning enjoying a smoke, watching High Street.
Phil Elmore believes that panhandlers often represent a serious danger to passersby, and
his half of the July issue’s The Martialist
vs. The Pacifist describes them as “human filth.” His Shanliang
Li teacher, David Pearson, describes them as “those that society has thrown away.” I think it is fortunate that both articles were presented together, as they give readers a more balanced view than either one alone.
Now let me add some more, based not on any “expertise,” but solely on my own experiences around Columbus,
Ohio, especially around the Ohio State University campus area where many street people run rampant. Please understand that
these are simply my experiences and may not represent yours. Its very possible that panhandlers exhibit different levels of harassing, intimidating, and violent behaviors in different areas. These regional differences could be the result of laws, police interventions, homeless shelter space, climate, jail space, etc. Panhandlers could also react differently based upon the “vibes” they get from someone. As the saying goes,
“If you look like food
” Also, individuals could certainly have different perceptions based
on what happens when they meet panhandlers and other street people. Only one or two bad scenes could create a lot of animosity, while one or two positive experiences could result in someone dropping his guard and becoming a “cheeseburger.” (Now yall thank
Ken Cook for the delicious cheeseburger analogy!)
First, consider some terms that have been used. Are “the homeless” synonymous with “street people?” I dont believe so. I would define the latter as those who spend all or most of their time “on the streets.” Many, but not all, may be homeless. Some may make a decent living at panhandling: a Columbus Dispatch article claimed that some skilled ones made $80.00 a day or more. Not all panhandlers are “homeless.” Some panhandlers could even be well-dressed cons.
Imagine a polite woman in a suit coming up to you and telling you shes so embarrassed, that she locked her purse in her car in the parking garage,
that she needs bus fare to go home to get her keys. Unless you think about her predicament, you just might be encouraged to cough up a dollar or two without delay. Now add a young child in tow and her plea that she could use a few more dollars to feed the kid until their car “gets fixed,” or whatever. Someone like that could make a nice hourly “wage” working a few city blocks, eh? But how common would this be? Probably not very. However, there are itinerant groups of professional crooks who make their way around the country. Some are “gypsies,” but there are other names of groups I cant recall. These people are raised in a criminal (or “near-criminal”) subculture, and they will probably be very good at what they do.
“SIR, IM HUNGRY. COULD YOU SPARE SOME MONEY FOR FOOD?”
As I approached the McDonalds at 12th and Neil, a young woman came up to me and asked me the question above. I was in no particular hurry, and had planned to get something to eat anyway. “Sure,” I told her. “Come on in and Ill buy you breakfast.” She thanked me afterwards. No, not in a very sincere way, as I suspected she just wanted the dough, but I think she knew she wasnt going to get any. I dont give out cash. But Im not so hardhearted that I could refuse someone who was truly in need of something simple that I had the time and the resources to provide. I dont regret it, either,
but at this point the “Im hungry” or “I want some coffee” game is not looking good. Most of the panhandlers who want to be fed really just want the money. I say that because when I offer to buy them the goods, they often decline my offer and trudge off.
“YOU DONT LIKE BLACK PEOPLE, DO YOU?”
A year or so ago, I pulled up to my favorite Chinese/Vietnamese place in Whitehall, where I live. A guy comes up complementing my boonie
cap and saying he was in the military, too. He pulls out an ID card from his wallet and holds it up for me to see. (What do you know, I think, a walking, talking example of “too much information!” Gee, I wonder what he wants?) Well, he “hadnt eaten in three days” and since were fellow vets, he thinks I should give him some money to go to Wendys (about a block away on an opposite corner) and get some lunch. I know this is a scam. But theres always that “humanitarian doubt.” In other words, Im a softie. “Sure, Ill buy you lunch. Come on in here and Ill get you whatever you like.”
Well, this asshole gets that same disgusted type look on his face as Ive seen before, and complains that “I dont trust him!” No shit! Before I can explain that Im in a hurry, but Im willing to set him up with a sit-down meal that is nicer than what Wendy would give him, he spouts, “you dont like black people, do you? Youre a racist!” Okay, this is one of the only times someone has claimed Im a racist, so I begin to get flustered and explain that not giving out money is my “policy.” He just keeps on calling me names out loud, so anyone nearby can hear it. I ignore him and go into the restaurant. When I left with my food he was gone.
“YOU DONT LIKE NIGGERS, DO YOU?”
You know, Im getting real sick of this shit. But I also understand why cons will try this disgusting
gambit because it must work once in a while! The louder and more vociferously
they shout, the better. It is shock value coupled with shame. Dont fall for it! The “veteran crap” is almost as bad. I dont know if they have really been in the military. Maybe they have, maybe they havent. I dont care.
Yep, the same sadsack approached me a few months back as I was gassing up just down the road from his favorite Wendys. Why cant these pathetic morons recognize previous failures to score? (Id probably contribute some cash to enable them to do so.) Do I really look like Dr. Moneybags with a mongrel spotted little 89 Festiva with over 120K miles on
it? What are these idiots thinking? Anyway, he had his damn “military ID” out and was blabbing rapidly as I looked back with my least interested face. My cane was in my hand as I waited at the pump. He didnt come as close this time. Oh, lunch at Wendys again, is it? (We were even farther away than before.) “Sure,” I told him. “Ill buy you lunch. Ill meet you down there after I finish up here.” You know what?
I meant it, too. I remembered his face, but not what he had accused
me of.
His smile barely faded as he considered my offer. “Can I ride with you?”
“No.”
He erupted! I didnt trust him, he said. I didnt like “niggers,” he said. Whatever. This time I didnt get all flustered at that bullshit. After all, the fool had trained me himself! He stomped off, spitting his cud, while I just shook my head and realized that despite the show, none of this was personal! Thats just what cons do. Hell,
it’s their job!
Now back to campus: The large number of students, especially “out of town” students
from both rural areas and foreign countries, ensures that OSU and its environs are a big draw for street people (SP) of all types (as well as just plain criminals, from bike thieves to flashers, rapists, and robbers). Many young students are simply ripe for bumming off of, as well as talking to and socializing with. Students have written articles for the student newspaper on “getting to know” some of the
SPs.
A few SPs are very well known in the campus area due to their unusual nature: One guy yells “help is on the way!” as he holds out his cup for change. Another one I havent seen in
awhile was a little person with a nasty vocabulary, but who reportedly could also have very interesting things to say. The one time I spoke with him, he seemed to have a good sense of humor. On Community Crime Patrol duty (they do the “other side” of High Street and I volunteered with them for awhile), I met another guy who rambled on about celebrities and their movies long
past he seemed to have a photographic memory. He kept on talking endlessly, going from one actor or film subject to
another indicative of some brain disorder. There was the tiny woman dressed in a robe who pushed a shopping cart full of her belongings around High
Street the CCP guys called her “Yoda.” She wasnt even five feet tall. Another guy, named Jeff, was friendly with the CCP guys and the cops, although I felt he was a flake. He wandered around day and night, doing odd jobs for local businesses. Whether he had a home
I dont know. He was a bit of a panhandler, but never threatening.
Thus Ive met street people both in and out of uniform, so to speak, and both alone and with buddies. So far my description seems to describe a sort of interesting variety of characters who can also serve as “additional learning” for students: The extracurricular experience
is an exciting urban chaos that becomes even more animated on Friday and Saturday nights, when the parties and the booze flow free. Theres always trouble waiting for the unwary, and the unwary are
many (but thats another story).
“WILL WORK FOR FOOD”
David Pearson describes a panhandler who was a “veteran,” who lost his job and
home and had a family to take care of. While sitting in his car one rainy day, David decided to talk to this
person and found the experience provided some glimpse into a better humanity. Im glad he feels that way. However, from what Ive read and heard, the “will work for food” signs held by sad-faced veterans on the corner is a popular scam. No, I dont remember the magazine I read this in.
It could have been Readers Digest.
Another source I do remember is Paul, who is one of my old bosses from when I worked contract security. One day he saw a guy with a sign and went up to him to give him the company card and offered him a job. Our company needed guards, so why not? “Will work for food,” right? Money buys food, right? Jobs pay money, right? Paul said the guy didnt seem too interested in the job. Paul waited awhile until the guy left the corner. The guy then gets into a nicer car than Paul had and never applied for the job. This isnt to say that all these “will work for food” and “homeless family” signs are scams, but apparently, they DO work well as scams. So watch out. Consider that your money would be better spent at a well-run homeless shelter, food pantry, etc. Plus, that will put you in less danger than if you were to roll down your window for an unknown.
MY CONCLUSIONS
While I dont believe most homeless people are “regular folks, down on their luck,” I also dont paint them as inhuman freaks deserving of our wrath.
The same is true with panhandlers, although any who are aggressive should be dealt with harshly. If you encounter one, be careful. Keep your distance and use the “fence”
to stay ready. [Editor’s note: The “fence” is a staggered,
“bladed” stance in which the hands are up and the palms face
forward. It is used to defuse a situation nonverbally while keeping one’s
guard up.] Also, “regular” violent criminals (however you may define them) could adopt a ruse of being a “poor, poor homeless person” and thus put themselves into position to strike. So be careful.
Panhandlers are here to stay. Yes, laws will be passed, but sometimes laws have unwanted side effects. They may discourage one unwanted activity only to
accidentally encourage another unwanted activity. Also keep in mind that some
people may not be what they seem. There have been Alzheimers patients who have walked away from home or other caregivers and gotten lost in the streets. After a few days they may look like “the homeless” and perhaps engage in “panhandling-like” activities. They may not smell like
roses, nor look too appealing. How would you like strangers to treat your ill relative if something like this happened?
As a “Martialist,” I accept that I cant handle all threats which may befall me. However, I also engage in martial training and mindsetting because I believe it is not only my right, but also my responsibility, to “be ready.”
Part of that “readiness” is to be able to help others who may need it. While I cant eliminate them entirely, I seek to reduce or at least control my own fears and prejudices so that I will be more able to do this. Yes, its true our society increasingly does not appreciate this effort, but that should not stop me from trying when I feel I can do something.
Compassion for “the homeless” and tolerance for “panhandlers” and other “street people” should never needlessly endanger you or yours. Simultaneously, make sure that the dangers do not squelch your compassion.
Examine your response to these potential threats, plan accordingly, and be able to live with your choices.