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Young men, even children target Akron pair; Ohio ranks 4th in U.S. in reported incidents
By Carl Chancellor
Beacon Journal staff writer
Published on Saturday, May 10, 2008
The spider web of white scars covering Lenny King's back speaks these days to the dangers faced by the homeless.
''The punks set me on fire,'' said King, 51, lowering his dingy sweat shirt over his marred back. ''They tried to kill me.''
For the past 28 months, King has called the short bridge spanning an abandoned railroad grade running underneath a downtown street home.
Living under a bridge, exposed to the elements, is dicey at best, but it becomes downright dangerous, if not deadly, when random violence is added to the mix.
King and his drinking buddy and on-again, off-again roommate Rick Moore, 47, have been the victims of numerous attacks during their time beneath the bridge.
On Monday, the pair was being interviewed by police about the most recent incident — a rock throwing attack last weekend involving a group of 10-, 11- and 12-year-olds.
''Why are they doing this to a homeless man? We don't bother nobody. We don't bother nobody,'' said Moore, wiping tears from his eyes with grimy fingers.
A study released at the beginning of May — Hate, Violence, and Death on Main Street USA, 2007 — reports that violent crimes against the homeless are on the rise nationally and ranks Ohio fourth in reported incidents, with 13 docu
mented attacks.
Only Florida (31), California (22) and Nevada (14) had more.
According to the National Coalition for the Homeless (NCH) and the National Law Center on Homelessness & Poverty (NLCHP), which conducted the study, the total number of documented attacks rose 13 percent from 2006 to 2007 — 142 to 160; and the number of fatal attacks rose by 40 percent during that same period, from 20 to 28 deaths.
In addition, the study noted that 64 percent of the attacks against the homeless were committed by youths aged 13 to 19.
Michael Stoops, executive director of NCH, said that the 44 percent of homeless people who are unsheltered are the most vulnerable.
''If these brutal attacks were committed against any other religious or minority group to the same degree, there would be a national outcry and a call for governmental action,'' Stoops said.
Maria Foscarinis, executive director of NLCHP, said society's treatment of the homeless lends to the violence.
''Young men see the way we treat homeless people — criminalizing them, shoving them out of sight, and they get a message: These people are less than human and it is OK to attack them,'' Foscarinis said.
Violent assault
King is highlighted on page 83 of the report in a detailed account of a July 21, 2007, attack that resulted in his back being burned.
According to the report, two men, 22 and 19, rushed into King's under-the-bridge camp at around 3:30 in the morning armed with rocks and a BB gun.
King remembers being roused from his sleep by a series of punches and kicks.
''One of them shot me in the head, right here,'' said King, pointing to the center of his forehead.
During the melee, the attackers threw rocks at King and used lighter fluid to burn his belongings. It is not clear from the report if King's clothing was ignited inadvertently. But King insists the burns to his back occurred because he was deliberately squirted with lighter fluid and set on fire.
''They were trying to kill me,'' he said.
The two men accused in that attack were arrested and charged with felonious assault. One was convicted.
Timothy Burge, 19, pleaded guilty to aggravated assault and criminal damaging in October 2007. He was sentenced to 12 months in prison, which was suspended on the condition he complete 24 months of community control, stay away from King and perform 100 hours of community service in a homeless shelter.
Charges against the other man were dismissed.
Rebuilding home
Fire was used again, though, in another attack against King. In February, a tent he and Moore were using was destroyed by a fire set by another group of antagonists.
''It was a beautiful home back in the day,'' said Moore, standing over a pile of charred rubble — all that was left of the tent and what was inside.
With their tent destroyed, King and Moore's under-the-bridge home is furnished with two large soiled carpet remnants, a half-dozen badly worn, mismatched sofa cushions, the top portion of a barbecue grill complete with rusted rack, and sundry plastic bags filled with clothing and other goods.
''We worked hard cleaning up this place,'' Moore said. ''People throw everything down here.''
He said neighbors like E.J. Wilson — who lives nearby and has often let King and Moore stay at his home — provide them with items to make their lives more comfortable.
''Some folks let us use some rakes to clean up. This place is nice now,'' Moore said, pointing to a two-foot hillock of debris cleared from under the bridge. The pile was generously littered with wine and beer bottles, many that likely were added to the trash mound through King's and Moore's prodigious drinking efforts.
Assistance rebuffed
Sgt. David Garro has been dealing with King since he was attacked last year. On Monday, he was taking a report on the most recent episode.
''It's frustrating. Lenny shouldn't be [living] here in the first place,'' said Garro, standing near the graffiti-tattooed concrete bridge supports.
''He is being victimized because of the life he chooses. We've been trying to get him help, get him into some sort of program, but he doesn't want to go,'' Garro said.
''Lenny, you want us to get you some help?'' asked Garro, in another effort to get the homeless man off the street. It's a question he has put to King numerous times.
''No. No,'' said an adamant King.
Garro shook his head and shrugged his shoulders in a ''what can you do?'' gesture.
The officer noted that King has failed to follow through on a number of complaints against some of his attackers and missed meetings with prosecutors and court hearings.
''He's not helping us very much,'' Garro said.
Still, King has a plan, as fuzzy and improbable as it may be: to get enough money to move to Tennessee.
''I've got a lady friend there,'' King said as he pulled a yellow dandelion he had plucked moments before from behind his right ear.
''Maybe, I can give this to a lady,'' he said playfully. ''Maybe I might find a girlfriend.''
But in an instant his mood shifted and King went from upbeat to intense.
''I can't take it anymore,'' King said. ''I'm this close to a heart attack. I just want them to leave us alone. . . . I don't want to be murdered.''
Moore added: ''We don't ask for no trouble, but people just mess with you like crazy. It ain't right. It just ain't right.''
Carl Chancellor can be reached at 330-996-3725 or cchancellor@thebeaconjournal.com.
The spider web of white scars covering Lenny King's back speaks these days to the dangers faced by the homeless.
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