Wind blown homeless

I can tell you one thing -- I would not want to be living in Tent City tonight. Gusts of 60 mph and they are in a church parking lot under the trees. Yuk.

Dravus Street -- "Homer" celebrating his birthday. "Guess how old I am," he demanded. This is a losing proposition for me. He looks pretty beat up by life. If I guess high he's gonna be mad, and if I guess low, he may be insulted. So I guessed low, way low, like 8 years too young. He's 37, and missing a front tooth. If he finishes his pitcher he's going to be unconscious. He says he has a place to go for the night. Bartender Milk Maid is not too sure. I come back to him later and try again -- lots of shelter available tonight. "I'm good" he insists but hints darkly at mudslide worries, which are not uncommon along the steep slopes of Queen Anne hill where lots of homeless folks camp out.

Downtown we tried getting two guys out of a doorway and into the church who's doorstep they were camping in. The wind was howling through the canyons downtown. They roused from their slumber enough to turn us down.

Meanwhile, back at Nightwatch headquarters, the power is off and the fire alarm is going. Yippee. Just another normal night. Rick