We arrived at the park about 10pm Saturday night. Lots of low-key
\nactivity. The first and biggest challenge was finding a place to sleep.
\nI suffered from a scarcity mentality, but Sam didn’t. He wanted to keep
\nlooking, rejecting all my narrow weird suggestions.<\/p>\n
I lost patience and went and sat on a small section of granite bench,
\nthinking things like “well, at least I’ll have this 4-foot-square space
\non this bench tonight.” Meanwhile Sam, who has more of an
\nabundance-is-possible mentality, was negotiating painstakingly with a
\nun-neighborly Jamaican(?) woman named Evelyn. She was staking out a huge
\nspace for two people by obsessively sweeping it. She had two very large
\npieces of cardboard for herself and her friend. She was also “allergic
\nto dust” so she was sweeping the same space over and over very
\ndeliberately.<\/p>\n
Next to me on my bench was a beautiful, young, Arabic-looking woman. She
\nwas alone, had a very fluffy white jacket and long long hair extensions.
\nShe asked me if I was going to sleep there and offered to share her huge
\nblanket with me. I said no, I was waiting for the negotiation that was
\ntaking place over there. She said she needed to sleep off the ground
\nbecause she was afraid of mice. I said I doubted there would be mice
\nhere, but she came back that in New York City, mice can be quite
\naggressive. This conversation really helped me relax. I was very touched
\nby her offer to share her blanket.<\/p>\n
Right in front of my spot on the bench, a party of three (2 men and a
\nwoman), and then another party of 2 (a man and a woman). All very
\nregular looking people, all very happy to be there. The second woman had
\na union t-shirt on. A little dog came by, a wire-haired terrier. Her
\nowners were panicking because she had strayed off, but they quickly
\nlocated her. A large group across the way had a little boy with them,
\nmaybe 3 years old.<\/p>\n
Three young people joined with Sam, collaboratively and carefully
\nhelping pressure Evelyn about her space. The young man, named Casper,
\nwas wiry and angelic looking, curly light brown hair and huge brown
\neyes. He was also extraordinarily polite. He was really dedicated to the
\nmovement and apparently to peacemaking in everything. He almost left the
\nsituation twice because Evelyn was so argumentative, but Sam kept
\nencouraging him back in. There was quite a bit of discussion over
\nwhether to park ourselves “parallel” to the bench or “head-in” which
\nwould accommodate more people. I think things shifted when Casper helped
\nEvelyn spread out her huge tarp. Decision was made, it would be
\n“head-in” and there was space for everybody.<\/p>\n
I laid down and spread my sleeping bag over me as soon as we were able
\nto lay out our pads and bags. Apparently I have a large need for my own
\nspace. I was worried about my feet sticking out into the aisle. But
\nmany people walked by for several more hours and didn’t seem to step on
\nmy feet. It was so warm, I didn’t want to get into my bag. I kept my
\nshoes on all night. We had no need for the extra clothing we brought,
\nbut used our jackets for pillows. I used Sam’s backpack for a headboard
\nand tucked my stuff (“my shit” as it’s known down there) behind it.<\/p>\n
Unusual angle for people-watching, me propped in bed and people
\nstreaming past. There was lots of meeting and greeting, small informal
\ngatherings. Casper and friends moved to the next bench after Evelyn said
\nshe was allergic to smoke. Several rounds of guests joined their small
\nparty. Lots of talking. Not a lot of music or drumming. Every once in a
\nwhile, a brief sound of a siren or a yell. Or a call “Mic Check” and
\nresponse “Mic Check,” then an announcement in the same communal fashion
\n– the people’s microphone.<\/p>\n
The sanitation crew is obsessive down there. A team of two people must
\nhave checked the trashcan near us 5 times in a couple of hours. They had
\nto change the trash bag once and were trying to figure out the mechanism
\nthat would hold the bag in place.<\/p>\n
The police ringed the park. Many barricades in that area. The New York
\nStock Exchange building was under heavy security guard, as was the
\nstatue of the bull. Some police would chat with you, others were
\nunfriendly. They didn’t enter the space of the park, stayed on the
\nperimeter. It must be hugely costly to have so many police there.<\/p>\n
Casper and friends moved back to the tarp after Evelyn realized one
\nadvantage of having space-mates. She wanted to go to McDonald’s and wash
\nher hands. Could Casper watch her space and prevent people from stepping
\ninto it? Casper offered hand sanitizer, but she said she would feel
\nbetter if she washed her hands. Evelyn’s friend eventually showed up,
\nanother woman, quite friendly and reasonable. Sam said he thought she
\nmight be an “imaginary friend,” so we were relieved to see her in person.<\/p>\n
As things settled down, Sam conversed a little with Casper. I was mostly
\nsilent, being introverted and a bit overwhelmed. Best quote – Sam asked
\nif Casper lived at home? this was confusing, so Sam said “with your
\nparents?” Casper said “I live here now.”<\/p>\n
Sam got up about 1 am and went around to take photos. They were serving
\nhuge quantities of food in the kitchen space. The food had been donated
\nfrom a wedding – large trays of sliced chicken, asparagus, something
\nthat looked like quiche. There is no shortage of food down there.<\/p>\n
I think I went to sleep around 1 or 2 am. The crowd was settling down,
\nbut still restive. There were bright lights shining from nearby
\nbuildings all night long. There was a constant loud whooshing noise –
\nnot traffic, maybe air conditioning? – all night long. Luckily I had
\ngrabbed a beach cap with a very long brim and was able to pull it down
\nover my eyes, providing some darkness. The noise served well as white
\nnoise. I slept surprisingly well, only waking to turn over because my
\nhips hurt from limited padding on the stone floor of the park.<\/p>\n
Woke up again, it seemed like the middle of the night, but decided to
\ncheck the time. It was 6:17 am! Made it through the night! I got up and
\ncirculated. Sam tossed my now-unused sleeping bag over the young people
\nnext to us, a sweet gesture.<\/p>\n
Very quiet, very peaceful. Almost all aisleways were eliminated at that
\npoint. People were sleeping everywhere. It was a very touching scene,
\nthe tenderness of dawn light in New York City, the people’s sleeping
\nfaces all relaxed in nests of sleeping bag and tarp and space blankets,
\ncuddled up next to each other, friends and strangers, a giant slumber
\nparty. It was also frightening to think about the fragility of the
\ngathering, the police presence, how things could turn ugly at any
\nmoment. My mind came up with a faint visual echo of a charnel ground or
\nHiroshima, all the bodies laid out on the ground. But I set that aside
\nand enjoyed the scene. I took some photos – the gray water system for
\nrecycling dishwater, the compost bucket, the large solar truck brought
\nin by Greenpeace, the extensive lending library, the communal charging
\nstation for phones, etc., with sign advising to “label your shit.” There
\nwas pizza available at this time.<\/p>\n
Sam joined me and we walked down to Battery Park to look over the water
\nat sunrise. Beautiful morning. Statue of Liberty looked soft and
\nhuman-sized against the pink sky.<\/p>\n
We had coffee at 7:30 in a nearby coffee shop, used the bathroom,
\ncharged my phone. Then we returned to the park, hung out some more.
\nBreakfast – granola, peanut butter and jelly, assorted other things.
\nPeople exercising – tai chi, yoga, dance. Some people were starting to
\nuse the paints and brushes to make signs. Most people were still asleep
\nor just starting to wake up with that dazed sleepy look on their faces.
\nBut we were done, we had to pack up and leave. It felt sad to say
\ngoodbye, especially to Casper who seemed disappointed that we weren’t
\ngoing to live there now.<\/p>\n
Cleverest sign: “10 years ago, we had Steve Jobs, Bob Hope, and Johnny
\nCash. Now – no jobs, no hope, no cash!”<\/p>\n
At home, I felt lonely for the community. I still do. There are some
\nthings I really don’t want to do now, like go to yoga class in New
\nCanaan with some overly well-groomed, well-toned, and humorless women.
\nI realized it has been a long time since I tasted that kind of idealism
\nand I’ve missed it. I’m really glad it surfaced, and we got to spend
\nsome time there.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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