Homeless deaths met with apathy

The best anyone can hope for is that Sandra Lee Smiscon died dreaming.

At least, that's what you tell yourself about the shooting under the Yesler Way overpass last Saturday at 3:30 a.m.

That's the image you use to offset the very real possibility that there is someone, or someones, casually killing homeless people, picking them off like empty cans on a fence, dispensing with the dispensable.

Susi Henderson, a member of the Women in Black, who memorialize homeless deaths, said Smiscon could have been shot at random.

"Homeless people are not respected at all," she said. "People think they're worthless."

There are other theories: that Smiscon was caught in the crossfire of a dispute over money, or firecrackers, or both.

The reasons may be random. The results are anything but.

Smiscon is the 13th homeless person to die on the streets in King County this year. At least eight of those were victims of violence. Shootings, beatings, crushed skulls. One person was burned to death, another stabbed.

There were 19 homeless deaths last year, 15 in 2001.

The numbers keep creeping up. But the concern never does.

"We are getting very tired of tracking deaths," Henderson said.

Smiscon died a stone's throw from City Hall. Literally.

So I lunched on irony yesterday, watching the Women's Housing, Equality and Enhancement League (WHEEL) pass out fliers explaining the vigil being held for Smiscon behind the Public Safety Building.

The same downtown types who no doubt pored over the tributes to Katharine Hepburn and Gregory Peck just a couple of weeks ago gave the fliers about homeless deaths a cursory glance.

And why not? Smiscon's death warranted only a few briefs inside the local newspapers. A dead weight on society carries no weight when it's gone.

After their vigil, the Women in Black walked two blocks to pray under the overpass where Smiscon died. I smelled Pine-Sol and urine, cigarette smoke and Simple Green. There was a rust-colored stain on the sidewalk and two cardboard boxes spread flat and long, like beds.

"I wouldn't sleep under here for a bet," Henderson told me. "But people make their choices."

As I left, I spotted a woman sprawled on a blanket near a park where homeless people spend their days.

"Do you feel safe?" I asked her.

Sure, she rasped. There are people all around.

She said her name is Melinda Guthrie, that she is 34 and left home at age 7 after being molested by her mother. She would like to get a job and a place to live, she said, but she is addicted to crack cocaine.

I asked about her health, whether she was in any pain.

"I got raped a week ago," she said matter-of-factly. "Under the viaduct, by Safeco Field."

She only mentioned it because her neck still hurts. She never reported it to the police.

Why bother? No one cares.

Nicole Brodeur's column appears Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday. Reach her at 206-464-2334 or at nbrodeur@seattletimes.com. More columns at www.seattletimes.com/columnists.

The mayor needs to take in his view.