Cal Anderson Park before the Ruling

Dear Diary,

I spent this morning on Capitol Hill, much of it in Cal Anderson Park.  One clueless graffito calls it "The Peoples Republic of Cal Anderson".  Now, on September 6, dear Diary, I told you of my belief that "Cal Anderson Park Is Not a Park".  There I called it a battlefield.  Today it held a specific kind of battlefield:  a fortress preparing for siege.

It will be overrun.  I don't know whether a sweep has already begun, but if not, there will plainly be one soon.  It will face defences, but these, though enough to stymie me for a while, will not hold back an organised force.  The sweep will succeed in such limited objects as destroying a lot of personal property and decreasing the number of people sleeping in the park for at least one night.  It almost certainly won't end the contention in Cal Anderson Park between the parties I called, in "Trash in Cal Anderson Park" on October 4, "the city" and "the kids".

The planned sweep has already rid Cal Anderson Park, at least for now, of most of the third party, the actual homeless whose tents provide the framework for everyone's understanding of the battle.  I spoke with one man, maybe my age or a little older, who had a packed shopping cart beside him, and wasn't waiting for the ruling.  The city likes to claim that all the people who've been a thorn in its side for months have suddenly become shiny happy shelter dwellers; while such claims offered in past sweeps have generally been inflated, the city usually doesn't emit this kind of smoke without some actual fire.

In particular, the city claimed to have one tiny house to offer, and it apparently will go to by far the squeakiest wheel, the woman who sued.  And this brings me, dear Diary, to why you aren't seeing my photos today.  My heart lifted when I heard about that suit.  When I saw the slogans the kids presented, the ones they were preparing to fight under, when I read the complaint the woman's lawyer filed, my heart sang.

The kids were concerned that I not take any photos featuring identifiable faces.  But I find that I need to go farther.  I am not going to aid the city, in the coming battle, by showing you, dear Diary, and anyone who reads you, any part of the kids' defences.  The judge's ruling showed the lawyer's complaint to be slapdash, but it still bought time for my peers' escape.  The coming battle will surely be pointless and one-sided, but I will honour those fighting it in my name, and provide no help to their opponents.

The fortress is much smaller than Cal Anderson Park as a whole; indeed, a bunch of tents remain outside the lines, though I have no idea whether they're still occupied.  Also well outside the lines is a really impressive tree:

Good night, dear Diary.  Should you, or anyone reading you, want more information, I recommend the coverage in The Seattle Times and in Capitol Hill Seattle, which latter in particular provided a link to the complaint, and direct access to the ruling.