Responses Range From Hostility to Accommodation

If you give Alan money, you can be assured it won't go to drugs. But that's because the government pays for them.

"Panhandling pays for my food. The SSI [Supplemental Security Income] pays for the drugs," he said. The SSI is a Federal income support program aimed at helping the disabled.

Alan's disability is unclear though he trembles as he speaks, licking his dry lips after every sentence. "I panhandle," he said. "I am homeless. I use drugs."

Born in Puerto Rico, Alan came to the Unites States as a baby. After high school, he worked as a waiter until he spent the last of his money on drugs. From then on he was on the streets, begging for money in front of Duane Reade. "I don't have much luck," he said, referring to his daily panhandling. "I make about $20 a day."

Alan always begs in the same place, and workers at Duane Reade are used to his presence. Eduardo Castillo, who works behind the counter at Duane Reade, often gives panhandlers singles for their coins to lighten their load. It's "just when they ask people here [inside the store], it's a problem." he said.

Other neighborhood institutions are similarly accommodating. "They come and use the bathroom, and we let them, unless they look like trouble. And sometimes they ask for a free slice or a free soda, and we give them one. We try to be nice, you know," Eddie Berisha, manager of Famiglia's, said.

But a Koronet's staff member, who only identified himself as Dick, said that the homeless could be a problem. "Sometimes they cause trouble, force people to buy them a slice, then they come back and pounce again, ask for more money." Dick said.

Despite his difficulty speaking, Alan was able to point out more than four other local homeless people. They didn't have time to stop and talk while drunken students staggered past local eateries with their wallets ready. When offered pizza in exchange for an interview, one man said, "Money is what I need. You know that."

Katy Mason, CC '09, prefers to give the homeless the benefit of the doubt. "There is the whole thing about what they're going to do with the money, but I feel that if they're going to use it for food then that's positive," she said. "If they don't, I guess it's money wasted, but it's the way I was raised."

Marbello, who refers to himself as "the candyman", makes no bones about his popularity. "I've spent a lot of years in this same spot. I'm a landmark here." Marbello is one of the men who begs in front of Morton-Williams, staying warm in the winter by keeping wash towels under his hat that hang down like floppy ears. Despite his wheezing cough and his dismal luck with passers-by, he sounds upbeat.

When asked why he panhandles, he cryptically replied, "My Achilles heel is that I care about people. When I lose people, I'm like water-I just flow." He declined to elaborate, complaining of a sore throat. He said he used to sing for money but claimed that when he went hoarse, he was harassed by the police.

Brendan Tatum, TC '11, decides whether to give money on a case by case basis. "Usually I tend to give to the homeless that look really poor, or if they actually perform some kind of talent," he said. "The homeless that just beg and beg, I usually don't give to those individuals."

Leonard Fitzgerald-who acknowledges that "in the street you go by many things"-said he is originally from Mississippi, but has made his way through Arkansas and Washington D.C. to sleep on the steps of the Broadway Presbyterian church at 114th Street. He doesn't stick to one spot­­-he can also be found in the subway tunnels in Brooklyn and Queens. "I'm just keepin' the faith," he said of his sleeping spot. He said his income varies from day to day, depending on the weather and the people he comes across. But in general, he's optimistic. "People are pretty kind, yes ma'am. I mean, some people aren't but they don't know where you're coming from."