Human Trafficing…in Portland, Oregon?
Yes, in Portland, Oregon. What follows is an edited (for privacy reasons) account of an incident that happened to one of our own core team women, just three weeks ago. The parenthesis at the start of each section clarify who was being written to.
(First Response: To Friend One; a Female)
I was going to call you but I am calmer now. I would still like the spiritual support that I have heard you mention that you are comfortable with.
Tonight, while I was in Pioneer Square after we served all of the burritos, I was watching the bags while Jess and Chloe went to get someone a sandwich.
I was sitting on a bench with Ken’s bag, the friend’s bag, the burrito Ikea bag, and Jess’s purse. I was wearing my long dress, which you saw, and my usual old lady straw hat.
After a few moments, a man who looked like your average Portland business guy- black shoes, slacks, black jacket with toggles for buttons, wearing a tie and nice sunglasses, short cropped hair- business guy appearance- he was walking by and looked my way. He asked “Excuse me, are you from Portland?” I got up, now thinking he was a tourist, and said “”Yes.”
Man: “Do you know of any camping places nearby”
Me: “What do you mean? What kind of camping?” “In the city, or, in the woods?”
Man: “I’m looking for the kind of camps where homeless youth stay. Are there any places in the city?”
Me: “That’s being worked on right now, but currently, it’s illegal to camp in the city. There are some places, like Dignity Village by the airport that are permanent as of now.”
Man: “Dignity Village? Where’s that; how do you get there?”
Me: “It’s kind of a tent city by the airport. You can take 84 to 205.”
Man: “I’m kind of down on my luck and I’m working for this celebrity in Las Vegas that wants me to shoot adult portraits to send down to Mexico. You’re 18?”
Me: “Over.”
Man: “Ok. Good. I’m looking for girls in these camps where the homeless youth are to make some videos- you’re not a street kid are you?”
Me: “No.”
Man: “Ok. You’re not a church girl are you?”
Me: “That doesn’t really exist up here.”
Man: “Good, because one of the questions I need to ask- Do you, do you fuck out?”
Me: “No, I don’t.”
Man:”Ok. Do you smoke any bud?”
Me:”No, I don’t, but I’m sure you can find someone around who does.”
Man: “Ok.” we shake hands “What was your name?”
Me :”Beth.” I was still in an out of body state before I thought ‘don’t say anything-or- get his name or card.’
Man: “Beth, ok, have a good night.”
He walked off going north away from the square. A few moments later, Jess and the other two came back. I was still in disbelief and slowly beginning to process my encounter while I told them what happened like a joke.
It did not take very long for me to become angry, fearful, anxious, about this man and his plans. I walked to where I saw a uniform. It ended up being a Square patrol (not a cop), so I told him I was solicited and gave him a description.
On the drive to drop off the bags at Ken’s, my rage and fury painted every bit of me.. I was very happy to give you a small hug when we made it there.
I called the police on my way home and left them a voicemail with a brief detail of the occurrence and a description.
The anxiety kept building along with my anger. What if I can’t be safe when we go to the Square anymore? What about all of those girls and women this man and others like him get to before the police catch him? I shook his hand and was patient with him, while he endeavored to enslave me. I was alone. I’m small. I’m not physically strong. It is awful to be stuck in this physical state. I was alone. He could find me. I am mad for having to worry about these things. Jesus loves him. I have God’s love and mercy for him. I showed him love. But, I want him to go to prison. There are men and women like this man who are wrangling women and boys and men into sexual slavery. And, I want to help them be clean in their hearts. And, I am helpless.
I am working through a lot of things in my heart and mind about the experience. This guy is still out there. I am supposed to be Jesus to him. I am furious and anxiety ridden for me and women and men; and sad for this man.
I am in a state of philosophical, theological, physiological, spiritual, everything-ogical chaos. But not chaos, at the same time; all twisting and clawing at my being.
I am watching TV episodes online until I pass out. I am also self-medicating with sugary gum. It’s a great Novocain..
God is teaching me something, whatever the fuck it is.
So, lift me up to God, please. I need assistance.
Necesito ayudas, Jesus.
(Second Response: To Fearful Loved One, after reading the above)
When he said adult portraits, the first thing that came into my mind was portraits of adults who are homeless; like charity work or political activism.
The rest of what he said happened so fast that I could not think; I had no previous construct in my mind to know what to immediately say. I was out of my body. It took me the entire drive home to process that it actually occurred.
Please understand me. It did not sink in until after it was over. When it did sink in, I went to the first uniform I saw. I called the police and left a report as soon as I got home.
I thought he was a businessman walking by, then I thought he was a lost tourist, then I thought he was an activist photographer, then he just sprung those questions on me before I could fully comprehend what was happening; then he left. I told the Square patrol and have reported it to the police.
Please understand me. He was in a middle-class, public place; in middle-class business attire. I was in a frumpy straw hat and floor length summer dress. I had no framework in my mind that it would go where it did. I had no response or wherewithal to get his information and call the police immediately- because it was an outrageous setting for this man to be doing this.
I did my best. Please understand that I did my best.
It is over. I did my best. I always do my best. I will always do my best.
(Third Response: To Friend 2; a Male- Ken, after reading all of the above)
What I want you aware of is that, even though I am resolved to love and give mercy in the event of my demise at the hands of another, I am still mortally fearful in my human self. I may not be going to Thursday nights if you or Jordan or another guy from Home is not there; at least for awhile. I am not tall and physically strong like Jessica. I am not smart nor am I quick witted if this were to happen again like Chloe. I am fragile-bodied whether I like it or not. So, I do have a moderate level of anxiety for my safety in the Square, for now. This makes me angry with myself for not being there for Home when just the girls go to Thursday. I believe I will recover from my anxiety and I know it is ok that I need to only go when the guys are there for now.
I need you to know that I am afraid of that man coming back to the Square or finding me; which has a 50-50 chance of leaning towards the irrational. I will get over the latter.
Thank you for whatever will be what God is in you for this. And thanks for letting me be a part of Home.
Love,
Beth
Our town is often dangerous and unkind. That’s one of the reasons we spend our time here…to love and watch out for our friends without houses.
Ras 08/9/09 12:54 AM |
I am deeply sorry to hear about this experience. Like this cycle of human corrpution that I know is out there, never ceases to shock me. I like want to be like Dateline where the hell are you when shit like this really goes down, wait you’re no where to be found…
In a community where we do our best to protect at Home, I’m glad we do our best, Dateline can’t put all the bad guys away.
LeeAnn 08/9/09 3:15 AM |
- What Ras said about human corruption. I’ve been propositioned (repeatedly) and once by someone who followed me to my campus housing years ago. It can creep you out for a while. I called the police, too. It was hard and still had to live in the area where it happened again. I’m more leery now. Still speechless for your situation.
If this kind of human corruption is going to exist, maybe it’s good that we’re learning how to deal with it: we will learn to protect/help others and know to pray (now) for help later: when it comes up again. -And get support for ourselves after being violated/ propositioned.
To report suspected human trafficking or to get help, call the DOJ toll-free hotline 1-888-428-7581
&
These people have had a 24 hour attorney on-call to help if there’s suspected trafficking. They have done training in how to help people being trafficked, since they are fearful and won’t usually admit to being trafficked:
http://www.catholiccharitiesoregon.org/services_human_trafficking.asp
(503) 542-2855 ext. 40 or email or e-mail cc.ossip@gmail.com
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Mike 08/11/09 10:18 AM |
I generally make a point of showing up to the Thursday night burrito event and will be happy to stick around as late as need be. I hope this will help to make you feel safer at the Square on Thursday nights.
Ken 08/11/09 4:55 PM |
Mike, thanks, that would help.
Hey, everybody, click on “Mike” in red above and check our his blog. It’s the best!
Vivian Brocato 08/21/09 10:26 AM |
Love all the women involved in this story! I can still remember the ache I felt when I first heard about this! This blog goes hand in hand with Jessica’s blob above this one! What women on the streets can feel daily - is mind blowing and heart ache-ing! My prayers continue on for the safety of all my sisters as we live and/or hang out on the streets! I look foward to a day when women are safe EVERYWHERE!