Occupiers’ new foe: freezing cold in D.C.
http://dervishcom.blogspot.com/2012/01/occupiers-new-foe-freezing-cold-in-dc.html
Usually, the Occupy D.C. protesters at Freedom Plaza battle corporate greed and taxes. On Tuesday night, their biggest battle was against hypothermia.
The dwindling number of residents zipped up their tents, swallowed vitamins and swaddled themselves in clothing as temperatures dipped into the teens.
“Thank God I have blankets,’’ said Blair Rush, a 41-year-old homeless woman as she moved back into her tent, her body warmed by at least three layers of clothing. “I don’t do cold.”
Rush doesn’t do cold, but she knows cold. She said she has been homeless for four years, ever since she stopped being able to make her mortgage payments. She tried the shelter system, but too many people were scared of her service dog, Kelo.
So she took her American Bully, a picture of her mother and a tent and stationed at the occupy site. Her tent, big enough to hold nine, was covered in blankets that sat atop more blankets. She sat on a blanket-covered milk crate in front of her stove, huddling over a pot of steaming water.
In her mind, there are two sorts of people at Freedom Plaza: the homeless and the Occupy Washington, D.C. folks, or the “99 percent.” And when the mercury began to sink, Rush noticed there were fewer occupiers occupying.
Tent covers surrendered themselves to wind gusts, only to reveal no one snuggled underneath them. The sight reaffirmed to Rush that there were class divisions among the 99 percent: Those who can’t go home again, and those who choose not to.
Not that Rush faults those who spend the cold nights in a heated place with a roof over their heads. She’d do the same, if she could.
“The hypothermia van stopped by and gave me a blanket,’’ she said. “And I just hope that there are enough blankets to go to the people who are homeless and not just the 99 percent.”
Throughout Tuesday, residents said, strangers and organizations donated blankets, gloves and other goods. The supply tent was stuffed to the brim and locked up. Only one man had the key. Around 8:30 p.m., he wasn’t there.
Kyle Szlosek noted that the tent city mostly runs on donations nowadays. As some Occupy movements across the country have been shut down, donations have slowed. The number of occupiers in D.C. is dwindling. Now, temperatures are sinking and people are getting cold.
“And people get a little bit more irritated,’’ occupier Szolsek said as he jumped up and down in the frigid air. “I’m from Maine, so it’s not so bad. I think I might go inside our warming center and teach an aerobics class.”
“The warming center” is a large tent where more than 50 people could stand comfortably. Earlier Tuesday, some occupiers said, a collection was raised to buy more propane for heaters. Around 9 p.m., one of two knee-high heaters hummed as five people inside tried to keep warm. They sat near a table with crumpled, open bags of Vitamin C packets.
“Just how cold is it? Look at this,’’ said Jerry Jackson, exhaling a citrus-scented cloud of his own breath.
Tuesday evening, Jackson cooked tomato soup for the occupiers. The kitchen was closed, but he still fixed peanut butter sandwiches for those who needed extra fuel for the night.
“It’s cold,’” Jackson said. “We gotta make exceptions.”
With the sound of the wind flapping from tent to tent, Jackson wondered if the temperature will do what the police and politicians so far haven’t done: Shut the place down.
“I’m here as long as we need to be here to make our point,’’ Jackson said. “The people that are going to stay are the people who truly believe they are making a difference. The other people will just blow away.”
The dwindling number of residents zipped up their tents, swallowed vitamins and swaddled themselves in clothing as temperatures dipped into the teens.
“Thank God I have blankets,’’ said Blair Rush, a 41-year-old homeless woman as she moved back into her tent, her body warmed by at least three layers of clothing. “I don’t do cold.”
Rush doesn’t do cold, but she knows cold. She said she has been homeless for four years, ever since she stopped being able to make her mortgage payments. She tried the shelter system, but too many people were scared of her service dog, Kelo.
So she took her American Bully, a picture of her mother and a tent and stationed at the occupy site. Her tent, big enough to hold nine, was covered in blankets that sat atop more blankets. She sat on a blanket-covered milk crate in front of her stove, huddling over a pot of steaming water.
In her mind, there are two sorts of people at Freedom Plaza: the homeless and the Occupy Washington, D.C. folks, or the “99 percent.” And when the mercury began to sink, Rush noticed there were fewer occupiers occupying.
Tent covers surrendered themselves to wind gusts, only to reveal no one snuggled underneath them. The sight reaffirmed to Rush that there were class divisions among the 99 percent: Those who can’t go home again, and those who choose not to.
Not that Rush faults those who spend the cold nights in a heated place with a roof over their heads. She’d do the same, if she could.
“The hypothermia van stopped by and gave me a blanket,’’ she said. “And I just hope that there are enough blankets to go to the people who are homeless and not just the 99 percent.”
Throughout Tuesday, residents said, strangers and organizations donated blankets, gloves and other goods. The supply tent was stuffed to the brim and locked up. Only one man had the key. Around 8:30 p.m., he wasn’t there.
Kyle Szlosek noted that the tent city mostly runs on donations nowadays. As some Occupy movements across the country have been shut down, donations have slowed. The number of occupiers in D.C. is dwindling. Now, temperatures are sinking and people are getting cold.
“And people get a little bit more irritated,’’ occupier Szolsek said as he jumped up and down in the frigid air. “I’m from Maine, so it’s not so bad. I think I might go inside our warming center and teach an aerobics class.”
“The warming center” is a large tent where more than 50 people could stand comfortably. Earlier Tuesday, some occupiers said, a collection was raised to buy more propane for heaters. Around 9 p.m., one of two knee-high heaters hummed as five people inside tried to keep warm. They sat near a table with crumpled, open bags of Vitamin C packets.
“Just how cold is it? Look at this,’’ said Jerry Jackson, exhaling a citrus-scented cloud of his own breath.
Tuesday evening, Jackson cooked tomato soup for the occupiers. The kitchen was closed, but he still fixed peanut butter sandwiches for those who needed extra fuel for the night.
“It’s cold,’” Jackson said. “We gotta make exceptions.”
With the sound of the wind flapping from tent to tent, Jackson wondered if the temperature will do what the police and politicians so far haven’t done: Shut the place down.
“I’m here as long as we need to be here to make our point,’’ Jackson said. “The people that are going to stay are the people who truly believe they are making a difference. The other people will just blow away.”
