Homeless camp cleared but memories of man killed there live on

Earlier this year, Griffeth’s boyfriend, Cornelius Taylor, was crushed to death by a city construction vehicle during a previous sweep. On Thursday, she had a chance to reflect on the last few months and what Taylor might have made of her transition into housing.

“I wish that he could have been here. I know he’s watching. I know he’s so happy,” she said.

The city said this week the Old Wheat Street encampment would finally close. It comes after years of pressure from community stakeholders, including businesses and developers, to shut down a camp that obstructs traffic, and is on the doorstep of the Ebenezer Baptist Church, where Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. spoke out in defense of the vulnerable and poor.

After Taylor’s death in January, Old Wheat Street became a symbol for the city’s policies on homelessness. A coalition formed in Taylor’s memory derided those policies as dangerous, ineffective and inhumane.

The clearing in January did not decommission the camp. Within days, people who had scattered into different parts of the city and the Sweet Auburn neighborhood had reestablished it.

Still, permanently closing the camp has remained a city priority. But after Taylor’s death, it became a highly sensitive and fraught exercise. And with the FIFA World Cup arriving next summer, city officials have raised the stakes by setting a deadline to clear all camps in the downtown core by the end of the year.

They stressed this week, however, that the effort to close the camp was separate from that initiative, known as Downtown Rising.

Mayor Andre Dickens said in a statement that the latest attempt to close Old Wheat Street would house people “with dignity” while closing down camps that are a health and public safety hazard.

“The residents of the Old Wheat Street encampment have received months of outreach and support, and now they have access to a safe, stable and comfortable environment, with services tailored to their needs,” he said.

Credit: Ben Hendren

Credit: Ben Hendren

The Justice for Cornelius Taylor Coalition, made up of homeless advocates, unhoused people, and Taylor’s family, was among Dickens’ loudest critics.

At Old Wheat Street on Thursday morning, coalition members seemed to be working in relative harmony with city officials and outreach workers toward a common goal: getting people into housing.

Taylor’s surviving cousin, Derek Chaney, loaded an electric wheelchair onto a dolly and pushed it up the street. He still had doubts about whether housing people would be permanent, or only temporary.

Chaney grew up with Taylor and regarded him as a brother, and said he wanted to come out to offer support to the people who lived there.

“This is his family too,” Chaney said.

Credit: Ben Hendren

Credit: Ben Hendren

At the top of Old Wheat Street, some residents of the camp eagerly waited to hear their name called so they could board the yellow school bus headed to Welcome House.

As homeless advocate Nolan English bellowed, “Come on down!” residents were greeted with whoops, cheers and hugs before they got on board the bus.

Decartas Clark, who said he had been living at the camp for six months, was among those looking on anxiously, waiting for someone to call his name. He said he was feeling a mixture of relief, as well as gratitude toward the coalition.

“The coalition says what they mean. They say they’re going to be here at a certain time, on a certain day, with water and food? They’re here. They say they’re going to come through with clothing? They’re here,” he said.

Justice for Cornelius Taylor Coalition member Tim Franzen paced around the camp all morning too, weaving between stacks of plastic crates with people’s belongings, bicycles and suitcases, and coordinating with city officials and outreach workers.

Credit: Ben Hendren

Credit: Ben Hendren

Speaking outside Welcome House, Franzen suggested the coalition’s negotiations with the city to get people into housing before any “eviction” at the camp had paid off, and people had accepted an offer of housing with their involvement.

He also credited city officials for being flexible and allowing advocates, who have built up years of trust and rapport with camp residents, to step in and help.

“We’ve known from Day One that a solution for these folks would have to come with partnering with the city. The city did step up,” Franzen said. “There’s a revolving door, there’s a vicious cycle. And with this encampment, we’re trying to prove that there’s a better way.”

English was less effusive but echoed Franzen, saying that with the coalition’s help, there had been “100% participation” from people who were offered housing.

“There’s never this level of people wanting to go. It’s usually a day of despair. Today was a day of celebration,” English said.

On the ground, it appeared the coalition was taking the lead in coordinating with the camp’s residents. But Annie Hyrila, chief program officer for Partners for HOME, said the city of Atlanta led the operation in collaboration with the nonprofit, which coordinates the city’s homeless strategy.

“Together, we worked closely with the Justice for Cornelius Taylor Coalition to provide housing and support for every encampment resident, ensuring a safe and dignified transition,” Hyrila said.

Dickens’ press secretary, Michael Smith, said the city welcomed dialogue with members of the coalition. He added there is always a “seat at the table” for them.

Hyrila said Thursday that 15 people had signed 12-month leases at Welcome House, one resident had moved into Veterans Affairs housing, and more than a dozen people were in temporary shelter

There are no penalties for ending leases early, and Hyrila said the long-term goal was to transition them into permanent supportive housing.

In a Friday update, the Justice for Cornelius Taylor Coalition said 30 people were in housing. The coalition had placed 10 people in hotels and said its work would not be over until they were housed too.

“We urge the public and city leadership to continue this momentum. Let us honor the life of Cornelius Taylor by ensuring that justice doesn’t end with housing—it begins there," the coalition said in a statement.

Another homeless advocate, Madeline Goebel, was at the encampment Thursday standing on a sidewalk close to the church.

Goebel had been working at the encampment since Taylor’s death. During freezing temperatures in the winter, she helped set up warming shelters and came every Wednesday to deliver meals and supplies.

The advocate doubted the clearing would mark the end of the camp and believed tents would be back up within days.

“There are people who still live here who don’t have guaranteed housing yet,” Goebel said. “The camp is here because this is the safe place where people have been living. This is the place where they have established connections to their neighbors for decades.”

For those who make the transition from camp to housing, there are sure to be ongoing challenges.

Crystal Williams, who is originally from Chicago, said she eventually ended up at Old Wheat Street after losing her $1,300-a-month apartment, despite working full-time at Kroger. She had been at Welcome House since the end of April but said she would like to leave and eventually lease her own place.

Taylor’s death, and another incident where a man slashed tents, left her feeling vulnerable, she said, with a sense of dread and uncertainty about what could happen at the camp next.

She declined to go into details about what it’s like living at Welcome House.

“I’m not on the street anymore, that’s all I can say,” Williams said.

Credit: Ben Hendren

Credit: Ben Hendren