Bridge Dwellers Outraged By Quick Eviction, Lost Items But Treatment Was Fair And Humane, Police Official Says

Most of them were sleeping in their secret camp when the Spokane policeman ordered them out from underneath the Monroe Street Bridge.

Before Thursday’s sudden eviction, some of the seven bridge dwellers had lived there for two years, enjoying the roar of the river, which is so loud at times you can’t hear the traffic above.

They kept the camp clean, they said Friday. They had a special corner to urinate in. They had two tables and three chairs. One of the residents, who reads novels, built a room with a heater and a lamp.

Sometimes they drank quarts of beer and wrestled on the dirt shelf above the steep bank. One of them said the river talked to him. He called it Amy.

The bridge living was “absolute freedom,” said Doug, who didn’t want his last name printed. “I didn’t have to pay rent. I didn’t have to be harassed by any landlord. I didn’t have to be in by 7 o’clock at night.”

Now the homeless haven is shut down, and the ousted residents are livid that many of their possessions were hauled off to the city’s incinerator.

“I got ripped off yesterday,” Doug said. “And there’s nothing I can do about it!”

Like most transients living in makeshift camps beneath Spokane’s downtown bridges, the Monroe Street Seven thought they could stay there as long as they wanted if they didn’t create problems.

The truth is, police can roust them at any time. Sleeping on city property is considered trespassing, just as it is on private land.

Spokane police described the eviction as routine enforcement that would occur more often at the city’s assorted, illegal homeless camps if manpower allowed.

Officer Robert Grandinetti said he gave the Monroe Street Seven “about an hour” to grab their stuff and leave before city workers tore down the camp Thursday morning. The eviction was necessary to allow city workers to begin repairs on the aging bridge, officials said.

Grandinetti said he also posted a note the day before, warning the residents about the pending eviction.

Camp residents say they didn’t see a note, and insist they were given only 10 minutes to clear out. They claim they were treated unfairly.

Doug wasn’t around when the police arrived. When he returned, all his stuff, including a $45 flashlight, a photo album, a birth certificate and an Eddie Bauer backpack, had been dumped into a truck bed. He left the scene because he was afraid he might get too upset and get himself in trouble.

“I’m sick of the way they treat us people. We’re homeless. So what? We’re still American citizens. Maybe we don’t have all the things society wants us to have - a job, and a car and all that. It’s all in how you grew up. I didn’t grow up with any structure. I don’t have any structure now. Now I’ve lost everything I had.”

His former bridge neighbors echoed the complaints. They didn’t want their names printed or their faces photographed for fear of retaliation.

Dick Cottam, Spokane police spokesman, said the transients were handled with courtesy and compassion.

“They don’t have a (legitimate) complaint,” Cottam said. “They’re trespassing. They could be arrested for trespassing. The fact is (Officer Grandinetti) did it a lot more humanely and sensitively than the law requires …. Bob’s a really feeling kind of guy.”

Cottam said the department refers homeless people to the city’s shelters, like the Union Gospel Mission Shelter for Men.

The shelter has room for about 60 more men, but none of the Monroe Street Seven is headed there.

The camp members don’t like the mission’s rules, particularly the one prohibiting alcohol.

“You’d have to go individually to the people under the bridge and ask them why they want to sleep there,” said Bill Altmeyer, mission director. “It’s usually a lifestyle choice.”

Bob Peeler, director of the homeless program for the Spokane Neighborhood Action Program, said downtown bridges have been popular campsites for years.

In November 1993, a survey determined the city had 1,408 homeless residents.

Peeler helps find homes for families, and often suggests people camp in Riverside State Park. But it costs at least $6 a night. And they can’t stay longer than 10 days. “At least there’s water, there’s bathrooms and some security.”

Two members of the Monroe Street Seven grabbed a quart of Miller Ice at the corner market at First and Madison Friday afternoon and slipped past the Spokane Club to their narrow dirt path leading underneath the bridge.

One of the men drank the quart while the other looked around at the space where he used to have walls, a lamp and a heater. They both seemed amazed that everything was gone.

“I used to love to just sit right there and watch the river,” said one, a lanky man with a wash cap, good boots and a fat novel in his back pocket. “I wish there was a chair to pull up.”

They didn’t know where they were sleeping Friday night. But they sounded like they had lots of outdoor options in the city. “I’ve got lots of camps,” one said.