On a typical morning Ronald Davis fishes a paper coffee cup out of a garbage can, wipes it out with his shirt, and plants himself on the Monroe Street bridge, near the Mercantile Exchange. With his back pressed against its steel frame, he shakes his cup and asks people to help the homeless. “I give all the people respect,” he says. “I don’t be harassing them. I don’t be offending them. Never.”
Best of Chicago voting is live now. Vote for your favorites »
“They’d handcuff you out here and treat you like a dog,” he says. “They take you down there to the police lockup, then you have to get in one of those little cells that’s got air-conditioning on you. You freeze to death.” There were times, he says, when he was detained from 9 AM one morning to 5 AM the next, times when police would remark that at least he could finally get a good rest. “I say, ‘Man, I don’t want your kind of rest.’”
Davis and two other homeless people who’d been repeatedly arrested or ticketed for panhandling sued the city in September 2001, claiming its ordinance against begging violated their First Amendment rights. (A fourth named plaintiff was later tacked onto the case.) Earlier this month the city agreed to cough up nearly a half million dollars for treating panhandlers like criminals.
Still, he was trying. The settlement negotiations dragged on for a year. At first the city refused to agree to monetary damages, offering instead to distribute goods and services to the homeless community–including 1,500 pairs of thermal underwear, 2,500 hygiene kits, and access to the Department of Human Services’ mobile medical clinic. Weinberg says the offer was an insult–the goods and services were already available to the plaintiffs, and besides, long johns were hardly adequate compensation for people whose rights had been violated.
“It wasn’t about the money. It was just about the harassment,” says Davis. “I would have been happy just striking that law out of the way, about you can’t ask no other man for some help when you down and out.” But he hopes the thousand dollars he’s owed will help him get back on his feet. “It’s hard to get a job when you got to sit here and struggle for survival,” he says. “Plus sometimes my appearance don’t be too hot. It turns them off.” He stays at a flophouse that charges $16 a night, but says he can get a better deal–about $6 a night–if he rents a room for a month. “The first thing I’m going to do is get a roof over my head and then get me some clothes and stuff and maybe I can go get me a job looking presentable. Maybe a tie or something and then maybe I can fill out some applications. ‘Cause I’m tired of this here. This ain’t getting me nowhere.”
