For years, the city has tried to fight the array of complex problems in the area, which is near where Roxbury, the South End, and Dorchester meet, and has become home to a cluster of social services. But conversations with more than two dozen people who live on these streets made this much clear: The crisis here only worsened during the pandemic.
There are more people, bringing all their troubles with them — and, in some cases, their criminal ways and depravity.
There is a galaxy of stories to take in. Some seem too devastating to be true, but plainly are. But some come with narrators who are plainly unreliable — or evasive. One guy claims he is a veteran of Operation Desert Storm but then gives his age as 31, which means he would have been a newborn at the time of that conflict.
A woman says her husband is Russian, only to say minutes later he is Nigerian. Prison sentences, stays at halfway houses, stints of sobriety, and court dates are often jumbled. Mental health issues abound. Many, in interviews, decline to give their full names or offer a street sobriquet, for reasons that are probably obvious.
Others offer their names freely to a Globe reporter. Some dream of a different life, as an illustrator, a bicycle rickshaw driver, a carpenter, a chef, an interior decorator. But for now, addiction controls them, and erases other ambitions. What to do for the people of Mass. Rebuilding the Long Island Bridge is often discussed. The county sheriff has floated the idea of converting a detention center into temporary housing with treatment services.
While the politicians debate, the daily rhythms of Mass. Tim tugs down his Celtics T-shirt to reveal a collarbone stuck out at an odd angle under his skin. He broke it in a fall, he says. He knows the scene here well. He says he attends a regular Alcoholics Anonymous meeting in South Boston. This Tim ignores. A pair show up: Billy Powers and Chris.
Chris says he is addicted to opioids. He does fentanyl, mainly. He used to work in the trades, construction and painting. But nowadays he panhandles. He typically stakes out a traffic island in the area and walks among the cars with a cup when vehicles are stopped at a red light. When he does get money, he spends it on drugs. Powers produces a cross medallion he says he recently found on the street.
He is asked if he plans on selling it. He shakes his head. EMTs are holding a woman who just overdosed, trying to keep her from falling.
Eventually, she is escorted to an ambulance. A gaggle of homeless people have gathered in a small concrete courtyard to watch. While the first responders do their work, the onlookers murmur. There is speculation that the woman may have mixed benzodiazepines with fentanyl or heroin.
Joe prefers fentanyl or benzodiazepines. He tries to stay away from crack cocaine. He says that, if need be, he steals or sells drugs to get money to buy drugs. He is wired, recounting the story in a rapid-fire flow. Yesterday, after being awake for several days in a row, he tried to sleep in an outdoor space amid an assortment of plumbing and electrical fixtures for a nearby building.
He was awakened after a few hours by police, he says. But then, a miracle. Back on the street, Golden ran into a man carrying his guitar. Follow him on Twitter davabel. The Lemuel Shattuck Hospital and surrounding buildings sit on a acre campus carved out of a meadow in Franklin Park in the s.
Aram Boghosian for The Boston Globe. Nurses led a patient into his room at Shattuck Hospital in Boston on Nov. A threat to close the Boston Globe was averted today as the struggling newspaper's owner, the New York Times Company NYTC , struck a deal with its largest union after a week of negotiations. The year-old publication is the most widely read newspaper in New England and the 14th biggest selling US paper.
We thank you for your understanding. Happy Holidays. Commercial trucks for various fish companies lined the parking lot, but no one stopped by the eatery. The neighboring shops and restaurants were dark as well.
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