Rocky Neptun | 17.04.2004 18:41

Over 100 community members turned out to say, "People First!" to the crowd at the opening game. Thomas, however, couldn't make it...

San Diego Ballpark Opens to Protest

By Rocky Neptun

Slightly over a hundred brave souls stood below the towering citadel of corporate greed as rivers of costumed flesh surged all around them. It was opening night for the San Diego Padres in their new $474 million dollar Petco Ballpark and forty-two thousand "fans" flooded around the 25 square blocks the city had seized to feed the madness.

"The idea of hard-working people spending good money to watch fat-assed millionaires hit a ball with a stick and then run around in circles is mind-boggling," Thomas Dyer once told me as we sat in his favorite alleyway behind Adams Avenue, chugging cheap vodka from a plastic bottle. "Give them circuses, the Roman emperors said, "divert them from the real beneficiaries of an unjust economic system and the dumb masses will be led anywhere, right down to public murders of Christians in their coliseums," he reflected that evening early last year.

Thomas couldn't be at the ballpark's opening night demonstration. He would have been proud of the several homeless folks who had slipped through the militarized security and escaped weeks of police harassment to join families from Barrio Logan being displaced by the economic forces of gentrification as speculation, high rents and condo conversions move from the ballpark's East Village into their adjacent neighborhood.

Ignoring the jeers and cat-calls of illusion threatened fans, several groups organized the demonstration April 8, to call attention to the tragedy that children and women make up the fastest growing segment of the homeless population, while over 60 seniors a month hit the skids because of out of control rent and lack of affordable housing in San Diego.

Wearing white armbands with black lettering declaring "people first," demonstrators waved signs and passed out flyers asking people to consider "the same level of financial commitment to our children, our elderly and others facing homelessness in our community as the City has shown for our sports teams." Led by energetic, chanting kids they then marched out of the "free speech zone" into the flowing crowds, weaving through the lines of uniformed military personnel waiting to march onto the field with their banners, securing yet another piece of terra for Empire.

"Economic deprivation and rental exploitation is a form of war waged on the poor," Thomas told me several years ago when we were discussing the proposed ballpark. Sitting on the sidewalk in front of the used bookstore that let him take books outside to read, his long white hair flowing in the wind, he stroked the tapered silver beard, snorting "the liberals and progressives will never protest outside the new ballpark."

"They fear embarrassment more than they want change," he reflected, looking up and down Adams Avenue in the hip, upscale enclave of Normal Heights. "They toss a few coins my way, allowing me to exist here, sleeping in the alley, adorning the sidewalk during the day, their uptown bum, their token slummer, to add to the quasi-bohemian ambiance – but to go downtown on opening night, to actually rub elbows with smelly, scruffy homeless people and face their neighbors, bosses and, ultimately, their own illusions of commitment would be devastating – and they sense that," he said so long ago.

Thomas had had a dream one night as he slept in a dumpster to escape the chilling rain; that there were thousands of San Diegans ringing the ballpark opening night, spreading out sleeping bags and blankets on the sidewalks forcing oncoming attendees to step over the "refuge" in the streets. He was often more bitter against his liberal benefactors who allowed him to escape the dangerous and brutal conditions downtown, where only 1,865 beds were available for about 7,000 homeless; justifying his patronage by saying that another person had a warm bed because he stayed uptown. He knew the peace-niks, the environmentalists, the civil libertarians, the ethnic groups, the powerful gay forces in San Diego, allowed themselves to overlook the fact that 100 homeless folks die each year on city streets.

He knew that progressives would not fight the criminalization of homelessness in San Diego; the class cleansing of downtown, calling intensified police harassment, "psychological tar and feathering before being run out of town." He railed against the lack of opposition to private armies hired by wealthy merchants and corporations – Clean and Safe San Diego officers in crisp brown uniforms, Horton Plaza officers in bright white uniforms and security thugs in Little Italy, who physically assault the unhoused and seize their personal belongings; identification, medication, priceless photos of family, loved ones and throw them away; creating a terror zone, where transients will fear to tread.

Yet, one hundred people of conscience, dared oppose the mantra of baseball worship; faced the pilgrims wearing Padres t-shits, caps, coats, sweatpants and, probably, even underwear, as they massed toward the glittering steel stadium, a modern temple adorned with the names of corporate sponsors, the new orders of priesthood. Thomas would have understood the solemn look of fervor on the faces of the massing fans, to be an actual part of an event, that the local paper promoted with countdown editions, the news overlaid with a thick colorful page, television and radio's heralding and, even, Father Joe Carroll decking out his homeless shelter in balloons and a sign welcoming the Padres, playing "Take Me Out To The Ball Game" from its bell tower, demanding a lockdown at the St.Vincent de Paul shelter five blocks from the ballpark, sparing fans the sight of human refuge. Already under the gun, St.Vincent is struggling with the city over its free-lunch program, which serves up to 1,800 daily.

San Diego's class cleansing of downtown is official policy. Using starvation as a weapon on the homeless, the city hopes to go beyond mere harassment to actual removal. As part of its updated Downtown Community Plan, the Center City Development Corporation (CCDC) anticipates San Diego "with one of the largest populations of any downtown in the United States." They project the current downtown population of 25,000 to triple in the next few years.

In 2003, within the city's core, fifteen upscale condo projects added 1,700 units, while 12 new projects are underway. At an average of $250,000 each, none are affordable to working class families. In addition, with close to 12,000 hotel rooms in the downtown area, the pressure to eliminate the sight of homelessness is intense. The CCDC promotes the downtown area with colorful brochures that highlight its eight neighborhoods. Heralding the opening of Petco Park, CCDC publications ignore the elimination of service providers and facilities for the homeless. It stresses that the East Village is San Diego's most rapidly developing neighborhood, transformed by "charming residential lofts….spotted with artists' homes, studios, galleries and shops."

Those who profit from the homeless industry, who are paid to keep them out of sight, may have hid on opening night, but residents from Barrio Logan and their children, being forced from their homes by outrageous rent increases joined members of the Caring Council, the Affordable Housing Coalition of San Diego County and the San Diego Renters' Union to oppose the priorities of a city that has the highest cost of living to wage scale of any major city in America; a community where less than 15% of the population can afford a home and over 60 percent pay more than 30 percent of their paychecks for rent.

Yet more than half of Petco Ballpark's development came from a city bond -- $225 million dollars that could have been used to build affordable housing, could have added to the shelter needs of the "lesser half" of the city, where over 34,000 families are on a waiting list for rental assistance, another 15,000 waiting for a chance at public housing (some waiting over a decade) in a city that has turned down Federal grants to build public housing units and has denied the military the opportunity to build over 10,000 new housing units, as well as nixed the University of San Diego's plan to construct over 5,000 units of housing away from the campus, next to trolley lines. The market responds to "supply and demand" and more supply means less profit for the fat cats, less campaign dollars.

Demonstrators marched by the newly opened Padres Hall of Fame Bar and Grill in the historic Western Metal Supply Company building, where the self-presumed elite sat and stood at an outside patio; drinking beer and munching on exotic foods, while just 4 blocks away at 13th and Broadway the city had closed down the last open air food program because feeding people "outside" was deemed illegal by the bureaucrats. Demonstrators carried signs that read "every child needs a home" and "people first" past the adjacent Omni Hotel, which opened the day before with 511 rooms catering to baseball fans, averaging $500 a night, featuring a fourth-floor bridge that leads directly into Petco Park, prompting several children in the group to remark it looked a lot like the movie's 1st Class plank that fed into the Titanic.

About 4 years ago, Thomas looked a Superior Court judge in the face and asked him if he drank wine or beer at home. When his honor replied affirmatively, Thomas proclaimed, "You're wrong, Your Honor. I don't have a drinking problem, I have a housing problem!" He often told me that city government will not solve the housing crisis because the rich and powerful benefit from a tight market. From Mayor Murphy, a landlord himself, to banks and other financial corporations speculating in the buying and selling of apartment buildings, they profit from the lack of affordable housing. "The brutality and despair of homelessness, the terror of the streets, keeps the oppressed, working people slaving away to pay for their own rental exploitation: a home for every person on the streets would take from the wealthy their market-given, state-police enforced, rights of theft," he once told me.

Former President Jimmy Carter threw out the opening ball at Petco Park, presumably to earn money for Habitat for Humanity, building homes for people in far off lands; while, ironically the 50 people working the ticket booths and concession stands are paid less than a living wage and another 110 are paid poverty wages to clean the restrooms, sitting areas and power-wash the ramps and stairs.

Meanwhile, while the homeless are routinely rounded up for swigging on a bottle of cheap wine in the alleys and canyons, with many consistently being arrested for open containers as they carry rummaged cans and bottles in plastic bags to the recycling yards; worshipers at the feet of the corporate shrine of Petco have been given "Tailgate Park." A parking lot with 1,048 spaces where fans can not only guzzle booze of choice, they can set up grills and cook a meal (in a city where it is illegal to feed the homeless).

Walking past the demonstrators who shouted slogans like "our communities need affordable housing," were those still in battle gear; expensive, designer suits and shiny cell phones, the economic mercenaries, lobbyists for the development corporations, still networking, still promoting, merging the political forces, private and public, until the differences become blurred. In San Diego, 30 percent of campaign contributions come from developers, many of which expect to make a killing off the ballpark's development. Rick Engineering, building consultants for some of the projects nearby, has eight employees registered as city lobbyists. Other corporations place their lobbyists on city boards and commissions, including the Center City Development Corporation, Downtown San Diego Partnership, San Diego Regional Development Corporation and the San Diego County Taxpayers Association.

Thomas had studied the power structure of San Diego, when he occasionally researched articles for the Street Light newspaper. A founder and former board member of Self-Reliance House, the paper's publisher, he was an early opponent of the proposed ballpark, citing its misplaced priorities, calling it corporate welfare. He was particularly bitter that the developers had planned a private jail within the bowels of the coliseum. [The day before opening, authorities fanned out on nearby streets to find a drunken transient to "test" the concrete cells.]

e was equally upset that San Diego's little billy gates, John J. Moores, owner of the San Diego Padres, who was voted one of America's 10 most corrupt CEO's by students at San Diego State University, would make millions while the taxpayers footed the bill.

Moores lied to the voters of San Diego to get them to pass a bond issue on his behalf. Like the mother of all liars, G.W. Bush, who Moores supports with his subsidized dollars, he got the government committed to such an extent it couldn't back away after the truth was known. Moores promised 17,000 jobs would be created, when, in reality, it is a mere few hundred. He promised that 10,000 to 20,000 tickets would be priced from $5 to $10. There are none available at that price. A mere plastic cup of beer is $6. The open space, 4-acre public park, that the Padres agreed to build adjacent to the ballpark is much smaller at 2.7 acres. Also, voters were not informed the park would be wedged between new condo buildings 32 stories high. They said the project would add 600,000 square feet of new office space to downtown and now, it appears, there will be less than half that.

The Padres owner is being sued for fraud by Peregrine Corporation stockholders for his part in the "cooked books" scandal that forced the company into bankruptcy while he was a board member from 1989 to 2003.

Thomas felt the team should be city owned, like the Green Bay Packers. It is the only major league franchise in the country operating as a non-profit corporation with 1,898 fans owning the corporation's 4,634 non-dividend paying shares. Tickets are sold at affordable levels and local service and charity organizations run the concession stands, which raises over $400,000 for the community.

Thomas used to quip San Diegans "under-react" to preserve their imagined image of easy-going, laid-back, sun loving, cool & hip residents of paradise, allowing the rich and powerful to create an always increasingly expensive ambiance that preys on those who live in America's second loneliest city (after LA) through media shrills and marketers who define social norms and economic barometers.

Spending hundreds of millions of dollars on the ballpark and other elite projects downtown while slashing $10.7 million in services this year, the City of San Diego has created its own tale of two cities. One for the wealthy, the other for working folks, the poor, the elderly, the handicapped. Already, there is talk of an additional $24 million in additional cuts from the budget next year, while the Citizens Budget Project suggests the deficit for 2005 could reach $100 million.

Meanwhile, across town, in Mission Valley; the wealthy Spanos family, owners of the Chargers football team and public porkers, are not content with the millions that they raked in over a guarantee by the city to "buy" all unsold tickets for each game (over $36.4 million since 1997). They seek to blackmail the city with threats of moving unless they, too, get a new stadium (after the city spent $80 million in improvements just 6 years ago). Yet, in San Diego, spending has gone down every year on homeless services and affordable housing programs.

As the demonstration wound down, just a few minutes before the beginning of the game, the sun fading into the west, glistening in the blue-green waters of the bay, a booming voice sang the national anthem, as huge amplifiers carried "the land of the free and home of the brave" up into the sky, over downtown and east, across 14th Street, into the gang infested areas, where the homeless, forced out of the East Village, with its overhead lights, access to all night stores and relative safety near the police station were nervously bedding down for the night in doorways and alleys. Suddenly, as the national the anthem ended, four navy jets flew directly over Petco park in formation, tipping their wings, acknowledging to the crowd below that in our militarized society, their illusions, greed and selfishness was protected from the hordes of have-nots; the poor, the homeless; the marganalized who would seek to obtain a fairer, more just portion of the Earth's resources; or, even, simply, a decent meal and a warm, safe place to sleep.

This is one demonstration that Thomas would have regretted missing; to lend his integrity and courage to the moral and spiritual power of one hundred kindred souls; his brothers and sisters of conscience. He couldn't be there because Thomas Dyer died this September while in police custody. Instead of a detox facility, they threw him into a cell, where during a seizure he fell from the top bunk. No family could be found; his body was buried in the Potter's Field section of a local cemetery.

The residents along Adams Avenue in Normal Heights created a small shrine with flowers, poems and a few pictures of Thomas immediately after his death; yet, not one of his "friends," no one from the neighborhood, attended the demonstration, has created any organization to help the homeless or spoken against San Diego's inhumane priorities.

My prayer the night of the Petco Ballpark opening, as I readied for bed, was not to God, but to Thomas; "ask God to forgive us, Tom."

[Rocky Neptun works as a gardener. He is an elected member of San Diego city government (mid-city planning board) and is a member of San Diego Friends Meeting.]