Copyright Everett Herald
By Mason Rutledge / Herald Forum In Everett, stories of homelessness aren’t distant headlines; they’re lived realities on our streets. I want to share three. This summer, I met Ricky. He lived in a tan Taurus with just the essentials. Parked between Broadway and Lombard, Ricky had become a quiet fixture in the neighborhood. He never left a mess. He picked up other’s trash. He even deterred trouble; his silhouette in the car was often mistaken for a police officer. Ricky took pride in his post. Then, this fall, Ricky disappeared. I asked a friend nearby and learned the heartbreaking truth: Ricky had passed away. He was found in the front seat of his car; still at his post. The second story is of a woman I’ve seen for years, sitting mid-block on a busy street. I haven’t spoken to her, but this summer I learned she waits in that spot for her brother. He once told her he’d come pick her up. So, she waits; done up, packed, and ready to go every day. Sadly, her brother died years ago. She waits, nonetheless. The third story is of a man who used to sleep in the doorway of a business just south of downtown. He never disrupted operations. In fact, he left the entry cleaner than he found it, always gone before the business opened. Some neighbors felt uneasy and called the police. Officers asked him to move along, and he did. Since then, the business has faced daily cleanup and vandalism. They miss the quiet guardian who kept their shop safe. These are our neighbors. Not outliers. Not strangers. Not foreigners. They’ve made Everett their home. They deserve practical care, support, advocacy and systemic change. That work begins with compassion; for the vulnerable, for the stranger, for the neighbor without a home. And yes, that compassion includes Everett’s “no sit, no lie” ordinance. Compassion respects a person’s dignity by believing they are capable of contribution to their community. The greatest need today is to find your own contribution to a better the world. People gain dignity through empowerment. Compassion doesn’t mean complacency. It can mean challenge. It is not caring to let someone remain in their struggle. Passive tolerance can become neglect. True compassion requires action. That’s why, over the past year-and-a-half, Everett Police have issued 156 “encouragements”; warnings under the no sit, no lie ordinance. These aren’t citations. In fact, there’s been less than one citation per month, zero convictions, and zero fines. Zero. This law has become a tool to care. It gives officers a way to engage rather than just drive by; like so many of us do. The ordinance allows the city of Everett another avenue to care, possibly providing the nudge that moves someone from addiction to awakening, homelessness to home, isolation to investment. It may help the stranger in the doorway find stable shelter. It may help the woman waiting find mental health support. And maybe — just maybe — it could have kept Ricky from dying in the front seat of his car. Everett is a city that cares. We have a disproportionate number of neighbors who need help. Sometimes, that help begins with a literal and figurative message: “It is time to move.” Mason Rutledge lives in Everett and works as a consultant.
