A group of homeless sex offenders is living in a camp in the woods behind an office park in Marietta — one place that does not violate the many living restrictions that Georgia’s tough sex offender law imposes.
The camp of about nine residents has sprung up on wooded land on a spot recommended by probation officers as a last stop for homeless sex offenders. A path leads from a nearby parking lot next to a sign that says: “State Property. No Trespassing. No Dumping.”
Up the hill, camping tents, some with tarps, dot the woods. There are bicycles, a gas barbecue grill and empty bottles. A solar water bag that heats water for a shower is pegged to a tree, and a little mirror is nailed below it.
“This is ridiculous that we have to live like this,” said Marque Miechurski, 30, who has lived in a tent in the woods for about a month and a half.
He was convicted of child molestation last October, according to the state’s sex offender registry. Miechurski says he spent two weeks in jail and was given five years of probation.
When his wife moved to a Powder Springs apartment near a church, he couldn’t live with her anymore and still comply with the requirements set out in Georgia law for sex offenders. A probation officer suggested the outdoor camp.
“The state did tell me this was a compliant address,” Miechurski said.
The Georgia law bans the state’s 16,000 sex offenders from living, working or loitering within 1,000 feet of schools, churches, child-care facilities and other areas where children gather.
Ahmed Holt, manager of the state’s sex offender administration unit, told The Associated Press that the camp is a “last resort” for homeless offenders who can’t find another place to live that complies with the law.
He said probation officers direct them to the outpost if other options fail, such as transferring to another county or state or sending them to a relative’s place that meets the requirements. Homeless shelters and halfway houses are often not an option, he said, because of the restrictions that bar them from being near children.
“I don’t think it was the Georgia Legislature’s intention to render people homeless as a result of this law; however, that’s the consequence of their actions,” said Sara Totonchi, public policy director for the Atlanta-based Southern Center for Human Rights.
“This result does nothing to make women and children more safe, and only makes law enforcement’s role more complicated,” Totonchi said.
The center has filed a class action lawsuit in federal district court challenging residency and employment restrictions for sex offenders in Georgia. Wednesday is the deadline to submit briefs to the judge, Totonchi said.
The law requires sex offenders to check in with law enforcement to report their whereabouts.
The Cobb County Sheriff’s Office is tasked with making sure the offenders comply with the law.
“We have about 375 sex offenders in Cobb County,” said sheriff’s spokeswoman Nancy Bodiford. “We check on most two to three times per year.” Of those, 13 are listed as homeless, Bodiford said.
The Sheriff’s Office checks on the homeless camp randomly, but at least once a month, Cobb County Sheriff Neil Warren wrote in an e-mail response to questions.
The Southern Center for Human Rights represents Levertice Johnson, 52, who moved to the wooded camp after he couldn’t find a job and couldn’t afford the $60-a-week rent at a shelter in Fulton County, said Totonchi.
Johnson was convicted of child molestation in 2002, according to the sex offender registry, and had been moving from shelter to shelter.
“It’s kind of like a mind game, it’s like ‘Survivor,’” said William Hawkins, 34. He told the AP that he was directed to the campsite two weeks ago after being released from prison for violating probation by failing to register as a sex offender in Georgia.
Miechurski says his troubles all started when he “had an itch” and scratched it when he was out smoking in front of his apartment on Franklin Road in Marietta last year. He says a child said that his pants were down, but he denies that.
“I get hit with the worst charge a person could ever be hit with,” said Miechurski.
A friend, Cindy Baker, 37, was making phone calls from the tent Monday, trying to find Miechurski a place to live that complies with the regulations. Her little Chihuahua, Trista, watched as she dialed.
“I think he got a raw deal,” she said of Miechurski.
Miechurski said he and the other offenders can’t wait to finish their probation and reintegrate into society.
“We want to move on with our lives,” he said.
The Associated Press contributed to this article.
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