“Yeah, don’t tell me,” she smiles wryly. “I am indeed a tough one. I come from a dirt-poor family,” she explains. “As a kid, I learned how to fight.”
Combs is in the company of Richard Rubel, Amtrak’s Community Relations Officer. He is a friendly white man who is very interested in my tunnel adventures. Rubel has a background in social work and has been appointed to set out an effective yet humane policy to approach the problem of the homeless living in the Amtrak tunnels. Amtrak learned a lesson from the ongoing lawsuit over the physical harassment of the homeless at Penn Station. “Repression is not the answer,” Combs says. “We try to offer the homeless a variety of social services. But the problem is that most homeless are completely isolated. They feel rejected and decline all assistance.”
“The newest trend is the idea that we have to see the homeless as clients. We have to sell our services to them, instead of forcing them to go into a mass shelter.” Rubel adds. “They are individual consumers who all need a unique combination of assistance programs.” Amtrak is using the expertise of MTA/Connections for their new approach.
One thing is for sure: the tunnel people will have to leave. The problems are getting out of hand. There are accidents when people are hit by trains, and Amtrak is slapped with big fines by the Fire Department for all track and tunnel fires. And if there should be some serious train accident, the blocked and clogged emergency exits will be a living nightmare.
“We are working in phases,” the captain says. “Currently, we are renovating parts of the tunnel. At the same time, we do outreach. Mind you, in coordination with the Coalition and Project Renewal. When the people are gone, we remove all livable constructions, secure the tunnel and close the gates, so no new people will settle down.” Combs and Rubel know most tunnel dwellers by name.
“Joe is the most stubborn of the whole bunch,” says Combs. “He refuses all help. He even wrote a letter in which he threatened to sue us in case we evict him.” Of course I want to see the letter. “If you show us your pictures, I will show you the letter,” Combs says slyly.
I mention Bernard. “How did he ever get these keys?” I ask as innocently as possible.
“Just like you don’t know that,” the captain says rudely. Her cozy mood has disappeared. To talk about nicer things, I mention the movie script and that Denzel Washington will be playing Bernard. Combs brightens up.
“Really? And am I in the script? Then I want to be played by Whitney Houston.” Her laugh echoes through the basement of Penn Station.
36. HOPELESS LITTLE HAVANA
There is a new rumor circulating in the tunnel that the Coalition will stop by. Twice, it has been a false alarm but this time even Bernard knows about the visit.
In the meantime, Dov has sorted out the misunderstanding with DC. In a noble gesture, the Secretary has decided that the vouchers will also be valid for the Amtrak tunnel people. I am at little Havana, watching TV and waiting for things to happen. Julio is still mourning the loss of his favorite cat Pelusa. He found her dead a few days ago, one of the many that according to Julio were poisoned by evil tunnel dwellers. A little farther down the tunnel, he has made a wooden cross, and placed a votive candle and a little statue of a cat to mark the place Pelusa is buried. Julio cheers a bit up when I give him photos of the deceased.
At the mouth of the tunnel we see three silhouettes emerging against the red of the setting sun. First they stop at the house of José, the fat Puerto Rican. Then they approach little Havana. I recognize Marc and Margaret, the third man is Mike Harris from the Coalition. Mike Harris has been appointed as the trouble-shooter, because handing out the vouchers has proven to be a painstakingly slow process. He’s replacing Bob Kelty, who was way too soft and sweet and has been given a job in California. Mike prefers the no-nonsense approach.
He is carrying a big pile of files and takes everybody’s case apart. “Here is your birth certificate,” he tells Julio. “And now go like hell and apply for welfare.”
“Wow, thanks man!” Julio calls out happily. “Wanna beer, man?”
“I don’t drink during work,” Mike answers brusquely.
“And what have you been freaking,” he sternly says to Poncho. “We are still waiting for your proof of income.” Poncho grumbles he is working on it and will stop by tomorrow to drop it off. “OK. Cool. Next one,” Mike says and takes the files of Estoban, Getulio and Hugo.
I hop on my bike to warn Frankie that the Coalition is coming. But there is nothing to be afraid of, since Fatima has already left Jazzy temporarily with her aunt in New Jersey. We wait downstairs for the visitors.
When they arrive, Mike gives Frankie his birth certificate. Pleased, Frankie goes upstairs. Tomorrow, he’s going to immediately start looking for a job as a bike messenger. Then he will also stop by at the Coalition and Project Renewal to finish the last of the paperwork. Ment refuses every sort of assistance. “Frankie takes everything as long as it’s free,” he says scornfully to Mike. “But I will stay in the tunnel. I already came down here as a kid. Nobody can kick me out. Worst case, I brick myself in, and reinforce the doors with steel.” Ment has already started renovating an empty bunker. He wants to live there with Fatima. Mike shakes his head. “Listen, my friend. We have to sit down and have a man-to-man talk. You are mixing up fantasy with reality.” Ment shrugs his shoulders and goes upstairs. Kathy is listening and sighs deeply. “Me and Joe are ready. Once the paperwork is OK, we are gone.”
The delegation proceeds to Bernard’s. Mike doesn’t need to take care of his case because he actually has all his paperwork finished, he’s just curious to see how Bernard lives.
From a distance we can already see a big fire burning at the grill. Bernard presents everybody with chairs and makes a pot of tea. He is extremely polite and friendly, even towards Margaret, about whom he was ranting and raving for half an hour yesterday.
“Mike, at this level, complacency is the greatest danger,” Bernard starts as he serves the tea. I already know the story and go upstairs to get Tony, who by this time must be finished two-for-oneing at Sloan’s. When we come back, Margaret is crying softly, and Bernard has wrapped his arm around her. A young cat from Tony’s litter just died. The cute furry kitten walked up to the grill, its breath started to rattle, and after some spastic wiggling it simply passed away. Bernard lifts the cat up. Blood is dripping from its mouth.
“Next patient,” Bernard calls out rudely. “Tony, that litter of yours, they are all degenerated animals. Spontaneously they just drop dead, one by one.”
Together with Margaret and Tony, we bury the cat close to the toilet facilities. “He is lying,” Tony says indignantly. “He just stepped on it with his big feet. It was pure murder.”
In my last week in the tunnel, I slowly turn into a messenger and do-gooder myself. I ride up and down to the Coalition and Project Renewal, getting from Mike and Dov what is needed for the vouchers and telling everybody what papers and forms they still need to obtain, fill in, and return.
I go with Estoban to a Catholic relief organization that helps Cuban refugees with legal problems, and I push Julio to apply for welfare. One evening, I am at the South End discussing everybody’s case. On TV we see the Croatian troops march through the Krajina, causing an exodus of desperate Serbian refugees. Hugo is slouched on a chair.
“Oh, man, I think I fucked up,” he groans. By not showing up to workfare where he had to pick up litter in the park, he lost his welfare. It will take at least a few months to go through the whole process again. He doesn’t dare call Dov to break the bad news. “We had to clean the park during the heat wave,” Hugo says. “It is not an excuse, but I can’t stand heat. It was also the same week when we heard the vouchers were maybe not for us. I just gave up all hope.”