Homeless in San Francisco: Day Twenty-Three

23 Sep

About 6:20 yesterday morning a man was stabbed by his girlfriend.  I noticed the Fire Department rescue vehicle pull up in front of the building next door.  Then a police car arrived.  Policemen were asking him questions and relaying information on walkie-talkies.  I never saw him nor heard him speak.  I only knew better about his circumstances when I went downstairs and greeted the front desk clerk before leaving for the day.  The clerk gave me the details as he walked down the steps with me to the front gate.  He motioned with his right hand to one end of the block and the other, telling me this happened about once a week; either it was a stabbing or a shooting.  As I looked over my shoulder from the intersection, I watched the clerk buzz and then open the gate to the hotel entrance at the scene of the crime.

Untitled photograph taken from somewhere along Highway 1 on a road trip with Max Yawney to Santa Cruz, 2011.

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