Even as Broward County reports the homeless problem here is not as severe as in Fort Lauderdale and seven other cities, it’s become an urgent — and visible — focus for residents and officials.
In response to citizen complaints, the city in July dedicated a second, full-time sheriff’s deputy to deal with those with no fixed address after assigning a full-time position to that population in May. Officials cite a need for enhanced enforcement, involving more than simple arrests.
“People don’t want to go to our parks because of the homeless situation,” City Commissioner Rex Hardin said at a commission meeting last month. “When you’ve got people afraid to go to the parks they are paying for, we’re not doing our job as a community.”
According to Broward’s latest homeless census, Pompano Beach doesn’t even rank among the top eight cities for people at risk of being homeless. The annual homeless count doesn’t produce city by city comparisons because it’s recorded by ZIP codes.
On the tally’s map of “unsheltered homeless,” the street population seems to be sprawling westward to Parkland, Margate and Coral Springs in addition to Pompano Beach.
Commissioner Ed Phillips is incredulous.
“On any given day, they are by McDonald’s on Blount Road, at the Pat Larkin Center,” he said. “They are also on Fourth Avenue. There are over at Dixie Highway and Copans (Road).
“The colder it gets up North, the more we are going to see them,” he said.
Part of the Scene
The county runs a 200-bed homeless shelter on Blount Road in Pompano Beach, but overflow homeless line the street at night, just north of the jail. Residents are dismayed by the sight.
“Those who are lucky have cardboard to insulate them from the concrete or maybe a blanket, but you just see the lumps lying there,” said Craig Roberts, a bridgetender who has lived in the city since 1973. “I must have seen a dozen lumps. I’ve never seen that many people lying there, one after another.”
One homeless encounter in a city park turned violent last January, when a restroom cleaner was stabbed at the Weaver Community Park on Northwest 20th Street. Davonte Shanard Johnson is facing an attempted murder charge.
At Pompano Community Park, some homeless keep their belongings in playgrounds meant for kids, Commissioner Hardin reported last month. One recent afternoon, at Sgt. Kip Jacoby Park, Susan Whitcomb intermittently jogged and walked along a fitness path and eyed a man in a hoodie sitting silently at a picnic table.
She makes sure not to stay long after the sun goes down, she said.
“It seems a little bit creepy when it gets dark,” she said. “But there are homeless here all of the time.”
Looking for a Solution
For the first time in its four years, The City Church Resource Center, 704 Hammondville Road, got city funding last month to help the homeless. And Richard Sasso, who owns the Mr. Squeaky Car Wash a few hundred feet away, couldn’t be happier — even if it means homeless-related problems pop up on his doorstep. Often in the morning he finds his car wash’s hose has been used for showering, or other signs of loitering.
But he happily gave $500 last month to the center, which offers clothing and job leads to the needy.
“These folks have a plan,” he said. “They are not going to erase homelessness in our city, but it’s good to see someone stepping up.”
On the Station Bench
Douglas Paul Radowick, 51, can tell you precisely the date he last lost the roof over his head: July 15, 2015. He had previously been living without water or electricity in a foreclosed rental. But that July day, he became officially homeless, with all his belongings piled on the sidewalk.
Since he came to Florida on July 4, 1998, he has been homeless five times.
He has worked as a furniture stock manager, and at a vitamin company in Michigan. Other employment is a little fuzzy. He suffered an aneurysm at 19, he explained.
The man with the grizzly beard shuns what he calls “homeless slobs” who visit shelters and food pantries, and refuses to do so himself, even if it means going without food for a day.
But Radowick is well known among commuters who ride the northbound train. Evenings and mornings, he sits at the Pompano Beach station, crocheting blankets.
“When I’m getting scatterbrained and anxious, this is what I do to get my brain focused,” he said.
A friend in Michigan pays for his cellphone. Commuters often bring him leftover yarn and he’s sold about two dozen blankets. But don’t offer him $100. That’s just insulting. His blankets are worth twice that, he said.
“Hey, you getting famous?” Brandon Gomez, 30, Margate, called to Radowick.
“Hush your mouth!” Radowick called back, laughing.
Gomez said he talked to Radowick for a month before he realized his situation.
“He’s an awesome guy,” said Gomez, who works in air conditioner repair. “He’s one of those guys who shouldn’t be in the situation he’s in.”
, 561-243-6624 or Twitter @AnneBoca
