A somber visit

Following our visit to Powderhorn Park in Minneapolis, we decided to continue our drive to 38th and Chicago, the site where George Floyd was murdered and which has now become a memorial site.

We parked about a block away on a residential street bordering several small businesses. An auto repair shop, a laundromat, a deli, a barber shop. Necessities. No frills here in this low-income neighborhood.

And on the corner, Cup Foods, owned and operated by an immigrant family, where the deadly encounter occurred. Over eight minutes of agony, a knee snuffing out the breath of a human being. Needlessly and callously.

We were met at the start of the street by what I assume was a volunteer staffing a casual "welcome tent," set up to distribute free masks if you needed one, free water and hand sanitizer. We, of course, wore our masks and stayed an appropriate distance away from others. All were wearing masks, save for some of the block's locals.

Down the middle of the street, names of other Blacks killed by police were neatly printed in chalk.

The names continued on and on down the street, culminating in the name GEORGE FLOYD at the end.

I can't describe what we felt looking at those names, way too many of them. If anyone doubts that change needs to occur to end systemic racism, our own attitudes, and the prejudice and rush to judgment by some (emphasis: not all) members of the police force, you only need to walk down this street.

It's beyond belief that since this particular horrific event, others have happened and still continue to happen. There seems to be no end to the violence.

What will it take for it to stop?

Outside Cup Foods where the fatal encounter occurred.

Continuing our walk, it was relatively quiet at the end of the block outside the Cup Foods market, as those around us looked in disbelief at the curb on the corner and the flowers and plants strewn on the ground. There seemed to be no words.

Many, perhaps most, of the floral offerings are dead now but nevertheless there they stay, undisturbed from where they were placed.

Colorful murals and art were painted on the fronts and sides of the buildings on the block. Perhaps the only outlet for frustration and anger, short of more violence, that residents have to express their cries for justice is through their art.

Rather than writing more, I'm posting photos we took of the block as they will tell a better story and give you a sense of what it's like living in the shoes of residents in the poverty-stricken vicinity of 38th and Chicago.

As we were leaving, we saw this quiet young man with his sign, expressionless and looking a bit bored. I asked if I could take his picture and his face lit up. "Oh yes, please," he said as if we were doing him a favor. I love this picture.

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As always, thank you for reading and allowing me share my thoughts.

Tents and grass = shelter

My husband and I took a recent afternoon drive to Powderhorn Park in Minneapolis to donate some clothes and supplies to the new homeless encampment there. This was in response to a shared Facebook post by a friend that brought this need to our awareness. We had some unused medical supplies, some jackets and blankets, and, our camping days long over, an almost-new sleeping bag.

The encampment, with about 200-plus tents on the park grounds, is a recent undertaking by the city's Parks and Recreation Board with public health support from the Minnesota Department of Health. Known as the Minneapolis Sanctuary Movement, it had its roots in an experiment to provide shelter during the pandemic at a south Minneapolis Sheraton Hotel.

With the protests and nearby buildings burning following the death of George Floyd at the hands of police, the management company of the Sheraton closed down the vastly overrun hotel and its evacuated temporary residents fled and sought refuge at nearby Powderhorn Park. The Park Board brought in portable toilets, trash cans and showers while tents and supplies were donated mostly by neighborhood residents.

We arrived with our offerings to be greeted by volunteers at the donation center, a tent near the street. They were grateful and eager to help us unload our boxes and bags. We learned from them that there are actually two separate encampments in different parts of the park.

Residents of the encampment and volunteers, many from the neighborhood and others, work around the clock providing food, basic medical care, supplies, security and clean-up. A food station is open 24/7. Volunteers have daily morning meetings in a nearby tent to discuss what's going right or wrong, what needs improvement.

There are rules.

There are those who are compliant. And there are those who are not. While we were there a heated argument between two men ensued. We were told that volunteer staff are trained to deescalate, and offenders are redirected. Often residents are on medication but not diligent in taking it. But they are almost never evicted from the camp.

Most camp residents were enjoying the beautiful summer day, strolling the grounds or visiting on lawn chairs outside their tent. Some were at the food tent as it was lunchtime when we were there.

The encampment effort is not without controversy. Some feel the Parks Board should not be "in the housing business," and there are neighborhood residents who are fearful and worried about noise, drugs, unsightly debris in the park, and so on. To that end, clean-up crews have three shifts throughout the day to ensure the park is clean and orderly. We can report first-hand that it was when we were there.

Many in this wonderfully diverse old Minneapolis neighborhood are supportive and help with food, even providing laundry services. Some  are part of an activist group of people lobbying city officials to develop a more permanent solution to provide housing and shelter to this woefully overlooked population. It is imperative that we end the talking and develop some long term solutions. And soon.


Our Powderhorn Park homeless encampment self-designated ambassador took many photos for me and as we left, I took a picture of him, with permission, as he waved and said, "God bless you and have a good day."

We will, Jim. And the impressions you showed us won't soon leave us.  


Local Minnesotans who wish to volunteer or donate can learn more at https://nechama.org/updates/twin-cities-response-to-date/

As always, thank you for reading and allowing me to share my thoughts.