It isn’t.

Many an Occupy group has morphed from being a tent city solidarity statement, that sometimes parades through city streets, into more traditional social service work. Instead of camping, they are committing acts of community improvement.

Last week, in fact, Occupy Providence traded their...]]> Only four months into the era of Occupy Wall Street and already many have taken great delight in proclaiming this populist protest a thing of the past. The encampments are mostly gone and, outside of Oakland, the headlines have largely faded from the front pages, leading some to assume that the movement must be over.

It isn’t.

Many an Occupy group has morphed from being a tent city solidarity statement, that sometimes parades through city streets, into more traditional social service work. Instead of camping, they are committing acts of community improvement.

Last week, in fact, Occupy Providence traded their longtime encampment in Burnside Park for some additional social services in the city.

The activists, who have been occupying the park in the heart of Rhode Island’s capital city since Oct. 15, have been engaged in mediation with the city since November to negotiate a peaceful end to the encampment and recently the two sides agreed on a deal: Occupy Providence would leave the park if Providence set up a day shelter for the homeless population.

The activists “demanded its city government do more to help the needy, and won,” according to The Associated Press.

Burnside Park, after Occupy Providence had moved out on Monday. (Photo by Erika Niedowski)

While the mayor heralded the move as evidence that his administration had dealt with activists encampments more peacefully than others, Occupy Providence touted the deal as evidence that protest can bring change.

“For too long, homelessness and poverty have been treated like a personal deficiency rather than a failure of our economic system,” said the group in a press release. “Occupy Providence hopes this move can inspire the people of Rhode Island and the United States to realize that the voice of protest is a powerful one and that together we can achieve the changes we wish to see in our society.”

The city, itself in a financial pinch, couldn’t afford to fund the center, which is estimated to cost about $30,000 to operate, but it did manage to convince the more fiscally-stable Catholic diocese to run it.

Providence has struggled with how to handle its homeless residents – in 2009, it evicted a previous tent city known as Camp Runamuck and the case is still making its way through the state courts – and the local Occupiers have long made homelessness a central theme in their campaign. In December, Occupy Providence marched to the State House where they camped for the night and called for a “Homeless Bill of Rights.”

The day shelter opened on Friday, and the activists had left the park by Monday morning.

Other Occupy groups are also modeling the changes they wish to see in their society in other ways.

In New Orleans, homeless activists have occupied a vacant lot in the Seventh Ward, an impoverished neighborhood still struggling to clean up after Hurricane Katrina, with the hopes of turning it into a neighborhood garden.

“We’re doing something for the community,” Occupy NOLA activist Norman Oaks told me. “We’re going to grow food here. And when we have enough, we’re going to share it with the neighborhood.”

Activist Norman Oaks holds a flag in front of Occupy NOLA's camp in the Seventh Ward.

It’s an effort they call “Occupy the Lots” and they hope to repeat it in other struggling areas of the city.

It started in December when they were told to leave the park in front of City Hall they were camping in. At that time, many simply moved home but some without that luxury relocated to a lot in the Second Ward and started the work of prepping a garden. But the police trespassed them from there, too.

The next day, a retired school teacher reached out to them to see if they might want to engage in a work-for-rent agreement on her lot in the Seventh Ward. Occupiers have kept the woman’s identity secret  because many in the neighborhood are less than pleased with the arrangement.

There are about 20 people camping on the lot and each is expected to help improve the land, which has become overgrown with weeds and debris. It’s also next to a broken water line that causes some flooding on the street side of the lot.

“If you stay here, you’ve got to participate in some sort of work,” said John Lauridsen, who spent a day and a half clearing debris from the clogged pipe. While there is still some puddling, he said the mailman can now get to the mailboxes that previously were stranded in the middle of a small pond.

A re-occupied house on Golden Gate Street in Detroit. Occupy Detroit fixed the broken window using recycled bottles and mud.

Occupy Detroit has taken on a similar, if less legal, sort of community improvement project.

Instead of occupying vacant lots with the permission of the landowner, they are occupying abandoned homes, with no permission, in a neighborhood filled with them.

“Our community service became our protest,” Detroit activist Eric Shelley told me recently as he took me on a tour of the neighborhood.

At least seven houses on Golden Gate Street have been re-occupied after their owners were foreclosed upon or just left altogether. They’ve creatively fixed broken windows by re-purposing old bottles and fixing them in place with mud and straw into a kind of recycled stained glass display. In others, they’ve moved in wood stoves and ran stove pipe out through windows for heat.

Some of the residents are young occupiers, who could probably find work and pay rent if they left Detroit. Others, have been living on the streets here for years, and say it’s enough each day to stay sober and warm let alone pick themselves up by the bootstraps and build a life somewhere else.

“We’re doing what our government is supposed to be doing: providing a social safety net,” Shelley said.

He said the police not only don’t bother them, but they appreciate their efforts. Abandoned homes often turn into brothels or crack houses, and Occupy activists are largely seen as a good presence in otherwise rough neighborhoods, he said.

Like Providence and New Orleans, Detroit began this project after it became clear they could no longer occupy the downtown park they had been camping in. And also like those two communities, Occupy Detroit chose to turn it into an opportunity rather than a reason to abandon the cause.

“We’re moving into the next phase of our occupation,” Lee Gaddies told me. “We’re reoccupying our neighborhoods.”

Other Occupy groups have also organized events and programs to help build a stronger community. Occupy Vermont held a holiday barter fair every Sunday in December, as an alternative to big box holiday shopping, Occupy Atlanta talked of starting a community bike share program and Occupy Tucson is one of the few groups still feeding the homeless on a regular basis.

University of Nebraska economics professor Hendrik van den Berg, center, talks about his class "Econ 99"

Occupy Lincoln (Nebraska) set up a series of community seminars in order to increase learning opportunities in the area. “We would like to make education equally available to everyone,” said Occupy activist and University of Nebraska professor Hendrik van den Berg. “How do you have a successful democracy without that?”

A tenured grad-level economics prof, van den Ber is teaching a primer on America’s economic system and beliefs and their role in class dynamics called, in a nod to the movement’s members, Econ 99.

“I’m going to explain why we have inequality and why we have the system we do,” he told me.

And at an Occupy Portland (Oregon) spokescouncil meeting in late December, the group spent the first hour hearing about endeavors that could possibly be incorporated into the movement. People brought up ideas ranging from a seed exchange to a health care cooperative.

This wasn’t simply the planning of another protest action, as I had grown accustomed to during the days of Occupy 1.0. This was Occupy 2.0, at which activists were brainstorming ways in which the movement could help usher in the kind of society that could serve as a counter model to the one they are protesting against.

Long before Saturday’s action, at which protesters tried to forcibly take over an abandoned community center to use as a headquarters for the movement, Occupy Oakland, as I’ve reported, has been the vanguard of the 99 percent movement.

“It seems Oakland has a little bit different agenda than the rest of the Occupies,” Sierk Beij, who moved to Oakland from Holland, told me in late December. “We’re a little more hardcore.”

In both October and November, when activists...]]> It should come as no surprise that when the Occupy activists finally resorted to violence and destruction, it happened in Oakland.

Long before Saturday’s action, at which protesters tried to forcibly take over an abandoned community center to use as a headquarters for the movement, Occupy Oakland, as I’ve reported, has been the vanguard of the 99 percent movement.

“It seems Oakland has a little bit different agenda than the rest of the Occupies,” Sierk Beij, who moved to Oakland from Holland, told me in late December. “We’re a little more hardcore.”

In both October and November, when activists were forcibly removed from the park in front of City Hall, they responded with high profile port shutdowns that resulted in very high confrontations with authorities and cost the local economy millions of dollars.

Occupy Oakland activists outside of City Hall, where they briefly occupied on Saturday.

“We are not really afraid of the police here,” said an unidentified activist at an Occupy Oakland meeting in December. “When they raided our camp, we responded with a port shutdown. When they raided us again, we responded with another port shutdown. Every time they hit us, we hit them back.”

Occupy Oakland reminded the city of this in an open letter to Mayor Jean Quan before Saturday’s action.

“Since the beginning of the Occupy Movement when you have exacted violent repression on us we have proven that we are more powerful and diffuse than you,” read the letter.

When arrests began after activists started to topple the fence to the community center, police said “officers were pelted with bottles, metal pipe, rocks, spray cans, improvised explosive devices and burning flares.” Many protesters were donning make-shift shields.

Later in the evening, a small group of protesters are said to have forcibly broke into City Hall, damaged display cases and spray-painted graffiti on the walls.

None of this can be described as peaceful nonviolence. But then again, Occupy Oakland does not pretend to be about nonviolence.

Whereas many Occupy groups have adopted a policy of peaceful nonviolence, Occupy Oakland’s general assembly has rejected such a mission statement, instead supporting a “diversity of tactics.”

“Diversity of tactics” is activist-speak for either forcibly resisting arrest or causing damage to property in the name of political change.

An Occupy Oakland activist covers his face with a bandana while showing off his art work.

“It’s not about being violent,” one activist told me. Like many Occupy Oakland activists, he declined to give his name. When I told him i was a reporter, he pulled a bandana over his face. “It’s about any means necessary.”

Any means necessary can encompass a lot. When I visited Occupy Oakland, nothing seemed off the table.

“I am not about nonviolent protests,” one activist said when I was there. “We all need to be ready to take up arms and we all need to be ready to die for this cause.”

While this certainly represents the most radical viewpoint within the movement, in the letter to Mayor Quan, Occupy Oakland threatened to blockade the airport, occupy City Hall, shut down the port again or – what could be the most destructive tactic of all, “call on Anonymous for solidarity.”

Simply enough, Occupy Oakland told Mayor Quan in the letter, “If you try to evict us again, we will make your lives more miserable than you make ours.”

The letter ended with what could be called Occupy Oakland’s mantra:  “Don’t fuck with the Oakland Commune.”

On the other hand, it was the last day of the 45-day Amtrak ticket I bought and I was in striking distance of being home after a month-and-a-half on the road.  I told McCarthy I was probably going to pass but reserved the right to change my mind.

Which I did.

I grabbed my pack from the luggage rack and actually got off the train during the five minute layover. Then I...]]> I almost got off the train in Washington D.C. yesterday. The OccupyCongress #J17 action was taking place and my good friend Michael McCarthy from Occupy Providence was there.

On the other hand, it was the last day of the 45-day Amtrak ticket I bought and I was in striking distance of being home after a month-and-a-half on the road.  I told McCarthy I was probably going to pass but reserved the right to change my mind.

Which I did.

I grabbed my pack from the luggage rack and actually got off the train during the five minute layover. Then I had second thoughts, and got back on. This is ridiculous, I thought, it’s pouring rain out and I’m physically and emotionally beat.

Then I second-guessed my second thoughts. There are Occupiers from all over the country convening on the nation’s capital today, how can on Occutour be complete without hitting that up. So I got off again, and sent McCarthy a text telling him I was going to meet him and began to lug my 48-pound pack and accompanying briefcase with laptop in it into a rainy DC day.

Moments before the train pulled out for good, however, I jumped back on, stored my pack back in the luggage rack and decided to take that train right back to Rhode Island, effectively ending my seven-week adventure on the road documenting the Occupy movement all across the country.

My project was never really about the direct actions, it was about the encampments and the local incarnations of the movement. A protest, while fun to cover, would do little to shed additional light on that narrative.

So after traveling for 49 days, visiting 23 cities and 21 different Occupy groups, logging at least 10,000 miles and spending almost all my money, I decided to finally head home – which is where I am writing this post from.

Now comes the hard part.

After a much needed rest, I’m going to pull out all these notebooks I’ve filled up at Occupations from Boston to San Diego and start digging through the information I collected in my reporting. There are still many stories to be told of my cross country trip. In fact, so far I’ve really only tackled the low-hanging fruit. The interesting tales will be when I start to really analyze the movement as seen through a broad cross-section of groups from almost every corner of the country.

Over the next few weeks, I’ll post stories on what I learned from spending seven weeks visiting as many different Occupations as I could armed only with a laptop, an iPhone, a train ticket and a couple hundred bucks. In the meantime, check out this interactive map of all the stories I’ve told to date:

“They’ve become part of the community,” said Rev. Samuel Mosteller, the president of the Georgia chapter of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, a civil rights organization that King helped to launch in the late-1950′s.

Mosteller praised Occupy Atlanta as the activists marched by, literally in the shadow of the Ebenezer Baptist Church on...]]> As Atlanta honored Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., its greatest hometown hero and the country’s most revered political protester, the newest incarnation of social-justice seekers here – Occupy Atlanta – was winning praise from a leader of the organization King helped start during the Civil Rights era.

“They’ve become part of the community,” said Rev. Samuel Mosteller, the president of the Georgia chapter of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, a civil rights organization that King helped to launch in the late-1950′s.

Mosteller praised Occupy Atlanta as the activists marched by, literally in the shadow of the Ebenezer Baptist Church on Auburn Street, the church where King served as pastor, in the city’s annual Martin Luther King Day parade.

He spoke of the way the movement has struck fear into the financial class locally, and instilled hope within the poorer people in town.

“North of Peachtree Drive,” he said, referring to Atlanta’s financial district, “they want them to go away. They’ve called attention to the common people about the world of high finance.”

“South of I-20,” he said, referring to some of Atlanta’s poorer areas, “they are glad to see it in spirit but they can’t always help out because they are working two and three jobs.”

Occupy Atlanta marches in the annual Martin Luther King Day parade on Auburn Street. (Photo by Liam Tierney)

He also talked about their success in working on foreclosure actions.

“For the message, their effect has been major,” he said.

When last I was in Atlanta, Occupy Atlanta had recently began a protest encampment on the front lawn of a house on Glen Iris Drive. Some 37 days later they are still there, helping bring attention to what they say is an unfair attempt by Chase Bank to foreclosure on the Pittman family home.

“There’s been some talking back and forth,” said Russel Benford, one of the first local activists I met on my first trip to Atlanta on December 9, when I asked him about it earlier today. “But nothing has been resolved yet.”

Most Occupy groups would be thrilled to have a foreclosure action last for almost six weeks and to help generate some dialogue between a bank and a struggling homeowner. But this is Occupy Atlanta, which has had more success with foreclosure actions than any other Occupy group in the country (that I know of).

“We’re like the A Team,” Benford said. “People have a problem with the man, they call us up and we help them out. We get calls all the time. We should set up a hotline.”

While Occupy Atlanta is still trying to help the Pittman family forestall a foreclosure, they’ve had some clear cut successes.

Last week, after they occupied a 108-year-old church in Atlanta helped convince a local bank to negotiate instead of foreclose.

“They want to come to some sort of compromise,” he said of the bank. “So far, it’s just talk, nothing is in writing, but they agreed to talk about it.”

Benford said the neighborhood had become “a little downtrodden. The congregation has dwindled a little bit and they don’t have the funds they had when they made the loan.”

Similarly, in mid-December, they helped call attention to Brigitte Walker’s plight. She is an Iraq war veteran who was injured by mortar fire and subsequently medically discharged from the Army. she still gets a disability check, but no longer earns enough to pay for her home.

“I strongly believe Occupy Atlanta accelerated the process and helped save my home,” she told the Huffington Post’s Jason Cherkis. “If it had not been for them standing up, I probably wouldn’t be having this happy ending.”

Benford said Occupy Atlanta’s foreclosure efforts have helped broaden the movement’s appeal. He also said they are a natural fit with their objectives.

“Occupy is first and foremost a community movement, a human rights movement,” he said. “It’s not like these people are trying to abscond on their debt. They need help.

He added, “If the banks can get bailed out, why not regular people?”

Today I visited the Seventh Ward, where Occupy New Orleans recently set up its third encampment after police removed them from their previous two. It’s a neighborhood where houses are still boarded up – if not razed altogether – from damage suffered during Hurricane Katrina; where drug dealing is prevalent and murders not uncommon.

And just like...]]> Earlier in my Occutour I wrote that nowhere in America needs to be occupied more than Detroit. New Orleans, a city equally plagued by poverty and blighted neighborhoods, has no shortage of areas that rival the Motor City’s need for community resurgence.

Today I visited the Seventh Ward, where Occupy New Orleans recently set up its third encampment after police removed them from their previous two. It’s a neighborhood where houses are still boarded up – if not razed altogether – from damage suffered during Hurricane Katrina; where drug dealing is prevalent and murders not uncommon.

And just like Occupy Detroit has re-occupied abandoned homes in an effort to revitalize its suffering areas, Occupy NOLA is occupying a vacant lot here in the Seventh Ward – its first of many, activists hope – in an effort to revitalize this neighborhood.

The Seventh Ward in New Orleans

Occupy New Orleans calls the effort Occupy the Lots.

There are about half a dozen tents and some 20 people who stay in them on an abandoned lot here in one of New Orleans most downtrodden areas. The owner, an elderly woman who wishes to remain anonymous, has allowed the activists to camp in exchange for their help in cleaning up her land.

The occupants, mostly homeless people, all work four days a week for about four hours a day. Since moving here two weeks ago, they’ve cleared the weeds, cut the overgrown grass back, removed 11 bags of garbage and even identified a broken water line that the city had left to form a large pool in front of a group of mailboxes.

They’ve also constructed a small greenhouse and started some seedlings in it with the idea of turning the lot into a community garden.

“We’re doing something for the community,” said Norman Oaks, the spokesman for Occupy NOLA’s new encampment here in the Seventh Ward. “We’re going to grow food here. And when we have enough, we’re going to share it with the neighborhood.”

Not everyone is pleased with their efforts.

Bobbi Ann Lewis, who doesn’t live in the Seventh Ward, stopped by at the same time I was there to tell the campers that she doesn’t think they should be occupying in a black neighborhood.

Lewis berated the activists for “cluttering up the neighborhood” but she seemed most upset that they decided to camp in a predominantly black neighborhood.

The man who cleaned out the storm drain and informed the city of the broken water line is John Lauridsen, who has been serving as the sort of work foreman of the encampment and liaison to the landlord. He’s been camping with Occupy NOLA since they were in Duncan Park, what local Occupy activists are trying to have renamed Avery Alexander Park after one of Martin Luther King’s right-hand men, which is in front of City Hall.

After that camp was broken up by the police on December 12, he joined a handful of homeless activists who occupied another vacant lot in the Second Ward. He told me they began the process of cleaning up that lot but police kicked them out of there on New Year’s Eve. Shortly thereafter, he helped set up the camp here.

He said there are two rules to the Seventh Ward encampment.

“If you stay here, you’ve got to participate in some sort of work,” he said, noting that the activists also volunteer to help others in the neighborhood as a gesture of goodwill and as a way to ingratiate themselves to those who may be skeptical, like Lewis, though he said her reaction was the most extreme they have seen to date.

He’s helped a neighbor fix a fence, and frequently helps carry groceries and other such tasks.

The second rule, he said, is “you have to be good to your fellow man.”

He said he’s already kicked out several freeloaders, and he seems nothing if not committed to the cause.

“This movement hasn’t had a martyr yet,” he told me. “I’m willing. I’m able.”

It started in November, when Jon McLain, the activist in question, started a working group called Occupy Public Lands.

“A lot of people feel like we didn’t go through the proper consensus process,” he said.

McLain, one of the initial driving forces...]]> As is the case with so many Occupations across America, there is a division within Occupy Tucson. But the split here has less to do with the reform versus revolution debate or inter-movement class disparity as it does with a renegade activist who misappropriated funds from the group and is refusing to return a laptop loaned to him.

It started in November, when Jon McLain, the activist in question, started a working group called Occupy Public Lands.

“A lot of people feel like we didn’t go through the proper consensus process,” he said.

McLain, one of the initial driving forces behind Occupy Tucson who still camps in Pancho Villa park most nights, told me he started the working group to better advocate for the homeless people of Tucson by utilizing some of Tucson’s 150 public parks, many of which he said are under-utilized, as a refuge place for the indigent.

Occupy Tuscon empowered McLain to file a permit with the city to occupy Dianzo Park, and he is looking into suing the city for its denial of that permit.

PACs and misused funds

McLain also filed paper work to form a political action committee for Occupy Public Lands without the permission of the general assembly, according to Occupy Tucson general assembly minutes.

He said he was admonished at a general assembly meeting for starting the PAC without the consent of the Occupy Tucson, which is under the umbrella of a local 501c3 nonprofit organization. He agreed to terminate the PAC, but had already racked up late fees with the state for not processing the paperwork in a timely fashion, he said.

The general assembly agreed to pay the late fees, but McLain told me he overcharged Occupy Tucson so that he could also buy food for the homeless. The late fees amounted to $140 and McLain tampered with the receipt to indicate it would cost $190.

“I forged a document because they refused to give me money to feed the people out here,” McLain said. “I changed the receipt to say $190.”

McLain said he used the extra $50 to purchase tobacco, peanut butter and jelly and sandwich meats for the homeless people who camp every night outside the park. According to general assembly minutes, questions were raised as to whether or not McLain actually used the money to buy supplies for the encampment.

He said he knew the misappropriation would be discovered but said he was “trying to make a point.” The point, he said, was that Occupy Tucson treasurer Leesa Worlee had sole authority over the group’s finances and, according to McLain, didn’t always abide by the will of the general assembly.

Laptop as justice

McLain has also complicated his relationship with Occupy Tucson, which he says he still supports, by refusing to return a laptop that was loaned to him.

“The laptop is still in question,” McLain said. “It was assigned to me through the general assembly and that decision has not yet been reversed.” Occupy Tucson activists critical of McLain’s actions confirmed that no formal action has yet been taken on the laptop.

McLain said, and other activists critical of him corroborated this story, that he loaned his own laptop to the movement and it was left outside and ruined. Another Occupy Tucson activist had their laptop stolen and that one was replaced, without general assembly consent, with the group’s coffers. McLain’s was not.

“If justice is just,” McLain said to me, “this laptop is in replacement of my pc.”

He said he would not return the laptop even if the group formally asks for it to be returned.

Punishment vs. forgiveness

At a January 7 general assembly meeting, Occupy Tucson discussed “removing Jon McLain from Occupy Tucson, publicly distancing Occupy Tucson from Occupy Public Lands [and] recovering laptop belonging to Occupy Tucson in Jon’s possession,” according to general assembly minutes.

Mike Migliore, a member of the finance committee declined to comment on the matter. Reannah Suh, who described herself as being in solidarity with both Occupy Tucson and McLain said, “We haven’t really discussed it. I’m not sure what we are going to do about it.”

Occupy Tucson consensus rules require 80 percent of those assembled support measures for passage. McLain said he is confident he has enough support within the movement to prevent an action against him.

Charles Jackson said he is considering offering a proposal that would allow McLain’s work within the movement to pay off his debt to Occupy Tucson. He spoke highly of McLain’s character as well as of his commitment to the cause, and said McLain’s actions shouldn’t be judged any more than those who are denigrating him on the group’s Facebook page.

“When we learn to accept each other with all of our flaws then we can finally start working together toward real solutions,” he said.

Then he offered up a well-known quote from the 13th Century Muslim philosopher Rumi, as words that the Occupy movement in particular, and people in general, should learn to better live by:

“Beyond the field of right and wrong there is a place,” Jackson said Rumi once said. “I will meet you there.”

Needless to say, I am exhausted.

So it was a bit of a godsend when earlier today I...]]> Other than a few really fun days in Portland, an afternoon at a rustic spa in Ashland and a couple drunken nights in Atlanta and New York, I have pretty much been working nonstop, sometimes as much as 20 hours a day, for the past 42 days. During that time, I’ve visited 19 different Occupies, 21 cities, written just about 60 stories and traveled no less than 8,000 miles by bus, car, train, plain and – as of today – bicycle, too.

Needless to say, I am exhausted.

So it was a bit of a godsend when earlier today I bumped into Charles Jackson, an Occupy Tucson activist I had met the night before, at the Shot in the Dark Cafe and he – out of nowhere – offered to let me use his bike for the day.

Charles is an interesting guy. He seems to sort of look out for the homeless people here. As we sat at a table outside the cafe, he interacted with all the homeless people who walked by, and even bought a couple of them coffee, even though he isn’t working himself.

He’s quickly woven himself into the fabric of street life here in Tucson after only being here since October. That’s when he finished up a four-year prison stint for forgery. He was working at a Twelve Tribe-owned bakery there as the business manager and right before quitting he gave himself an unapproved $1200 severance package. The police found him in Maui not long after he absconded with the bakery’s money.

The Twelve Tribe group, for those of you who have never come in contact with them, are a very conservative Christian cult that often prey on young, impressionable hippie kids. If you’ve ever been to a Dead show, you’ve no doubt seen their bus in the lot. And if you didn’t pay it a visit, consider yourself lucky. I didn’t ask Charles how he came to be associated with the Yashewas, as they are sometimes known as, but he is still a strong believer in the notion that Jesus is our savior, if not any traditional Christian dogma.

Either way, he was nice and trusting enough to allow me to use his bike for the afternoon and I took it up A Mountain, where I got to see views like this one:

That view is from about 1500 feet above sea level, and about an hour earlier I was riding his bike on that long, flat section of road way down below this vantage point. The mountain is actually called Sentinel Peak, but it’s known as A Mountain because in 1915 a group of University of Arizona students painted a giant, white “A” not far from the top and pretty visible from the city down below. In the post 9/11 years, one Occupy Tucson activist told me, a group of right-wingers painted it red, white and blue as seen in this picture from right below it.

I never did get a picture of A Mountain from the city. But who cares the really good view is from the mountain of the city, as seen here:

It wasn’t exactly a relaxing way to to spend a much-needed day off and I’m certainly no better rested for it, but it was nice to get off the Occupy beat for almost the entire day and even nicer to finally get out of the urban environment for really the first time in about a month-and-a-half.

So thanks for your generosity, Charles. Tucson is lucky to have you.

By 9 p.m. on Monday night, as the group’s general assembly meeting came to a close, there were already a number of people sleeping in solidarity on the sidewalk outside of Viente de Agosto Park, better-known locally as Pancho Villa park, for the statue of the Mexican bandit and revolutionary in the center of the downtown green space. The night before, one activist told me, more than 30 people slept on the sidewalk.

But it hasn’t been easy,...]]> Count Occupy Tucson as one of the few offshoots of OWS that still has campers keeping the original idea for the protest alive.

By 9 p.m. on Monday night, as the group’s general assembly meeting came to a close, there were already a number of people sleeping in solidarity on the sidewalk outside of Viente de Agosto Park, better-known locally as Pancho Villa park, for the statue of the Mexican bandit and revolutionary in the center of the downtown green space. The night before, one activist told me, more than 30 people slept on the sidewalk.

But it hasn’t been easy, nor cheap. Activists say police have issued more than 800 citations for illegal camping or trespassing since the movement began here on October 15. Per capita, according to activist Melissa Donovan, this is more citations than any other Occupy has been issued. And second only to New York City in overall citations.

“The city has slowly suffocated the movement,” she said, noting that several protesters have collected more than 20 citations and one, whom she called “Medic Sam” has more than 40.

The camping hasn’t been consistent, either, as the sidewalk is the fifth area that local activists have occupied, and some are looking into getting a permit for a sixth location. The city has denied the permit request, and an offshoot group called Occupy Public Lands is looking into filing a lawsuit over the denial

The group started in nearby Armory Park. On the first night, 50 citations were issued, activists said.

‘People lined up to get their tickets,” Justin Prather said, “so the cops could get out there as quickly as possible and we could get to sleep.”

When that encampment grew to about 100 tents strong, members of the direct action committee moved to Pancho Villa park and the Joel Valdez Library Grounds on October 28.

On November 4, police cleared protesters from the library grounds and Armory Park but allowed them to stay in Pancho Villa park.

“We were raided out of all parks except this one,” said Prather. “If we were caught sleeping in any other park, we’d get arrested but we were only ticketed in this one. I think they wanted us in as small an area as possible so it would be easier to get rid of us. If we destroyed the grounds it would be easier to get rid of us.”

Then, the city decided even one park was too many for Occupy Tucson. On December 21 some 55 police vehicles and more than 200 officers, activists said, showed up to clear the park of protesters.

“It was very disheartening,” said Charles Jackson. “They set up flood lights all around the park and had it surrounded.”

After an emergency general assembly meeting, Occupy Tucson, which is organized as a legal 501c3 nonprofit, decided to cede the park to the authorities.

“We chose to abide by the law and respect the government that is here in Tucson,” Jackson said. “By being compliant, we thought maybe we could work through some of our other issues.”

Jose Cardenas sets up his bed for the night.

But rather than giving up on the idea of a physical occupation, and after a two-day occupation of the grounds outside City Hall, the activists found another way to keep the camping going. In 1984, a group of homeless activists camped on city sidewalks for 70 straight days to protest the lack of legal places to sleep outside. As a result, the city passed an ordinance that made it legal to sit, lie or sleep five feet from the curb.

By and large, though, the ordinance is still being used by those for which it was originally intended.

“Most of the people camping are the homeless,” said Jose Cardenas, as he laid out a number of blankets on the sidewalk on which to sleep for the night. “We are the ones on the front lines.”

When it was dark out, it looked enough like a park to roll out my sleeping bag and get a little sleep. But by dawn, when the early morning joggers and bike riders started to come through, it became pretty evident it was just a playground. Rather than risk a visit by the local authorities, I...]]> My train arrived here at about 3 a.m. last night, and since the only hotel room within walking distance of the station would have run me more than $100 for just a few hours shut eye, I decided to occupy a nearby playground instead.

When it was dark out, it looked enough like a park to roll out my sleeping bag and get a little sleep. But by dawn, when the early morning joggers and bike riders started to come through, it became pretty evident it was just a playground. Rather than risk a visit by the local authorities, I packed up my bed roll and started my search for breakfast.

I ran into a Mexican fellow who brought me to the Shot in the Dark Cafe. Turns out, it not only serves a pretty good latte but also lives up to its name as a sort of 21st century, early morning variation on the old-time western saloon.

Don’t believe me? Where else would you hear a line like this one:

“I shot a man in Texas, right between the eyes.”

Merrick LeBlanc

That’s what Merrick LeBlanc said to me when I asked him what he was doing in prison for 12 years.

The subject came up when he introduced himself as Merrick, from Louisiana. I said I was Bob, from Rhode Island and he said the only other Ocean Stater he had ever met was while he was doing time in the Lone Star state.

Merrick said the Rhode Islander was imprisoned for being unlucky – said he tried to scare a man by shooting over the guy’s shoulder, but instead hit him in the temple. I told him that wasn’t like a Rhode Islander, as most of the times we shoot to kill and noted that unlucky might have been if he missed the guy altogether, as planned.

We had a good laugh and Merrick offered me a hit from the fifth of whiskey he had in his jacket pocket. I declined and offered him a sip of my latte.

“Oh no, I don’t touch the hard stuff,” he said with a wink, deciding to stick with his black coffee and whiskey instead.

Merrick and me were clearly having some fun with each other, so when he told me he avoided running afoul of the law these days by being a cowboy I told him I used to be a cowboy too until I figured out I was actually something quite different.

Merrick took my cue and I told him the one cowboy joke I know.

“Well, I was sitting at a bar in Wyoming when a beautiful woman sat next to me and asked if I was really a cowboy. I told her I was and she asked me what cowboys do. I told her I rustle cattle and ride horses and fix fences and such. Why what do you do, I asked her.

‘Well, I’m a lesbian,’ she said.

Now, I didn’t know what a lesbian did anymore than she knew what a cowboy did so I asked her about being a lesbian.

‘Well,’ she said, ‘I love beautiful women, and seeing them naked and making love to them and such.’

Next time I was at the bar another beautiful woman came up to me and asked me if I was really a cowboy, and I said to her:

Well, I used to think I was a cowboy, but it turns out I think I’m a lesbian.”