DULUTH - Francois Medion, who has been living at an encampment on the lawn of the Civic Center for the past two weeks, referred to Tuesday events — or lack thereof — as “a miracle.”
Homeless encampment near Duluth City Hall lives another day as eviction deadline passes
Police and fire officials stopped by the site Tuesday morning and left a city truck behind to collect garbage.
Last week, those living in more than a dozen tents and beneath tarps within Priley Circle were given a week’s notice to voluntarily vacate the space, citing city code. On the day of the deadline, members of the police and fire departments were on site in the morning, but left without taking action to remove those living there. A city of Duluth truck was left behind, the bed open for garbage collection. Just a few bags had been dropped in it by noon.
“This morning a miracle happened, a true miracle,” said Medion.
The encampment started three months ago as a pro-Palestine protest, but has shifted to a gathering site for people experiencing homelessness. It sits downtown and in plain view and was at the heated center of a proposal by Mayor Roger Reinert that would have criminalized camping on city property — a plan the City Council modified to limit the fine to $200 and remove language defining it as a misdemeanor. It passed 5 to 4 during last week’s City Council meeting.
The seven-day evacuation notice popped up on red placards at the fringe of the encampment the day after the meeting.
The Duluth Police Department sent a news release Tuesday morning that the notice period had expired.
“The Life Safety Team will enforce the notice as appropriate,” according to the release. “Members of the Life Safety Team will continue to coordinate with community outreach partners to assist those during the transition period.”
A spokesperson for the Police Department did not immediately respond to a request for more information.
By midmorning Tuesday, a handful of campers and visitors, including a documentary filmmaker, gathered in a semicircle chatting, rolling cigarettes and playing with small dogs. Other campers checked in with members of the Life Safety Team, who stopped by with boxes of Narcan. Community members have dropped off granola bars, packets of tuna, bottled water and garbage bags.
“So many garbage bags,” said Medion.
Last week a portable toilet was dropped off, but some living at Priley Circle didn’t want it. They have their own compost toilet tucked neatly into a tent. Medion said he called 911 and reported the new bathroom as suspicious in an attempt to get it removed.
Those who spend time at the encampment describe it as a safe space where people take care of each other.
It is within walking distance of Chum, a nonprofit that provides food and has a shelter that fills rapidly. There are public restrooms available at the Duluth Transit Authority a few blocks away.
Emily Hayes, sitting in a lawn chair, said those living on site have to come together to show the need for affordable housing and mental health resources. She described the encampment as “a network of community care that has been organically created as a byproduct of the lack of resources from the government and for nonprofits.”
The Duluth Police Department has described the camp as a public health and safety hazard. In July, the department said, there were at least 138 calls for service including an explosion, an overdose and behavioral health calls.
The camp sits on a swath of lawn near a shuttered fountain to the east of Duluth’s Federal Building and in front of the St. Louis County Courthouse. It’s City Hall those who live there gesture toward when talking about rights for people who are homeless.
“We’re here right under their noses,” said Lonnie Moore. “They want us out because we are the consequences of their actions.”
Campers were relying on word-of-mouth information and said they expected police to return on Tuesday evening — or maybe in the middle of the night. No one was sure, but they weren’t yet making any motions toward leaving.
Carlton County, just southwest of Duluth, hadn’t voted for a Republican presidential candidate since Herbert Hoover in 1928. Trump snapped that nearly centurylong streak earlier this month.