On March 15, pro-homeless activists began an ongoing vigil in the San Diego concourse, asking that the city provide year round shelter for all in need

The immediate reason was the closing of the city’s small family shelter, and the 150 bed veterans’ shelter on Midway Drive.

I had promised to hold an overnight vigil if the city closed its winter shelters in mid-March, and Urban Safari had agreed to support the vigil. Then we learned that city officials wanted to extend the Winter Shelter program at least into April. I began to hope for a comfortable month, home in bed.

On Friday, a reporter from KPBS called: Was I still planning the vigil? I didn’t know; what was the city doing? The reporter called back soon after with the latest word: one shelter would stay open; the other would close. Compromise, the joy of politicians. "That leaves 150 more people out in the cold," I said. "I haven’t been certain that people were being turned away. But we keep getting more evidence. The regional Task Force estimates 2,000 unsheltered people downtown; the estimate might be off but I know they aren’t going to fit everyone into 250 beds. I’ve got to do it."

Ross McCollum called. Everyone from the veterans’ shelter would be taken to the Newton St. facility; there was room because the staff there had been putting on housing fairs, getting people into apartments. Everyone would be fine. Did I believe it? Should I?

Despite my uncertainty, others around the office were eager to go. Within the hour we were faxing out press releases. Soon after that, I was on the phone to the police department. "No, I’m not asking permission," I told them. "I just don’t want anyone getting surprised or panicky. I’d have told you sooner if I’d known myself."

Eight o’clock Sunday night. I was standing on the sidewalk with a sign, a cushion and a few friends. A couple guys from the veterans’ shelter were there. They hadn’t been offered rides to Newton Street; they said they’d been told the place was full.

Eight o’clock passed; it was ten after. I’d hoped for more supporters but didn’t see them. "About time we went in? Where should we sit?" No one answered.

The Concourse was empty; all I had to do was walk in and sit under the lights, just across from the fountain. When I did so, I was happy to see I wasn’t alone. Soon after we settled down, we had television coverage. Security guards watched from a distance while reporters took statements from us and an unknown homeless onlooker, who gave an eloquent plea for a more compassionate approach.

While some of us attempted to pass the night in meditation, others protested by talking at us, trying to sleep or playing Spades.

Supporters came and went all night. A man and a young woman joined us around 1:00 after security guards evicted them from the courtyard of a nearby church. (The church leaves restrooms and covered space open to sleepers on rainy nights, but this night was merely overcast. And cold to anyone used to sleeping indoors.) The woman, after telling about her efforts to get her children back, eventually slept while her companion favored us with an endless stream of erudite word salad, much like a "language poetry" reading removed from the Literature Department. About 4:00 A.M. the birds tuned up, almost drowning out all conversation.

At dawn, while the original organizers of the event staggered home rubbing their eyes, homeless and other supporters remained in the Concourse with signs and fliers.

Editor’s Note: The San Diego protest for a year round shelter continues with 100 people taking part on a regular basis. Thanks to the San Diego Street Light for keeping us updated on the story.