Street a Battlefield for Beggars and Businesses

Those considering the merits of Los Angeles’ proposed crackdown on panhandlers were getting conflicting messages Monday on Blaine Street.

Tommy Thompson yelled his as he walked between lines of cars stopped on the busy street west of the downtown business district. “Bless you!” Thompson said, jingling coins in an empty soda cup. “Thank you, man!”

Businessman Donald LoBue’s came from a sign he has bolted to the side of his printing supply business: “Don’t be Fooled. Give to a Charity.”

As Los Angeles officials ponder proposals that would outlaw such things as “abusive” panhandling and begging at freeway offramps, battle lines were drawn at what could be Ground Zero in the city’s war against begging.

LoBue said that such an ordinance is doomed to fail. And he speaks as someone who has tried chasing beggars away by dumping buckets of water on them from his roof--and by hurling insults at them from his sign.

Thompson agrees. And he speaks as a person who has spent six years surviving on the streets by dodging both LoBue and the cars that zoom along Blaine Street.

The street is a short and anonymous thoroughfare. But it’s the kind of place prized by businessmen, panhandlers and city officials.

To LoBue and the handful of other merchants along its block-long stretch next to the Harbor Freeway, Blaine Street serves as a freeway entry and exit that is capable of funneling thousands of customers to their doorsteps.

To Thompson and a half-dozen other beggars who take turns working the street, its one-way traffic pattern and the traffic light at 11th Street that stops cars in front of them is equally as convenient.

To city officials, the street is a major entryway to the adjacent Convention Center and could become the same for a proposed municipal sports arena.

LoBue erected the sign 3 1/2 years ago.

It implores motorists to ignore panhandlers:

“Please, Think Before Giving. They Are Not Homeless. It’s All An Act to Fool You. They Do Not Want to Work. Beggers (sic) Earn Tax Free $$$. Your Money Buys Drugs. They Prey on Your Sympathy. Don’t be Fooled. Give to a Charity.”

“We’d have four or five panhandlers out here constantly. It was absurd,” said LoBue, 54, who has operated his company for 27 years.

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LoBue said he put up the sign after finding out that dumping 5-gallon buckets of water on beggars wasn’t effective. He said he was motivated by watching what he characterizes as scam artists at work.

“Guys would come here and park their cars and beg and then drive off,” he said. “A girl used to stand there begging with a doll in a blue blanket she pretended was her baby. A guy claiming to be a veteran and wearing green fatigues would drag his leg down the street--and then turn around and walk normally back here and do it all over again.”

His sign gets plenty of attention, said LoBue. But it hasn’t stopped the panhandling. And LoBue wonders whether the proposed city ordinance--which would target places such as freeway onramps--will.

“People drive by and give thumbs up to the sign. But there are do-gooders who don’t want to hear that panhandling is a business,” LoBue said.

“You have to ask yourself, ‘Are the cops going to enforce this law?’ God knows there’s enough serious crime in this town to occupy them.”

Beneath LoBue’s sign, Thompson was busy. He has worked the street since 1991, when he lost his job as a bus driver, his wife died and his life fell apart, he said.

“A lot of people ask about the sign. But they know it’s not true,” said Thompson, 56. “All you have to do is look around and you see where we live.”

Thompson said his home is a mattress beneath a tree on Blaine Street, in a space formed by the freeway offramp. He said he makes about $20 a day, enough for food, beer and an occasional motel room where he can shower.

“I don’t want to break the law if it’s passed. But I’m not going to lie. I’ll sneak back and keep doing this,” he said. “What the hell do they want us to do--put a gun in our hand and start robbing?”

Thompson said passersby supply him with tickets to Convention Center events. “I go to all the boat shows and auto shows,” he said. “And I get along with the police.”

As if on cue, a police car pulled to a stop at a gas station across Blaine Street and two officers headed inside to buy soft drinks.

As the pair passed a small sign over the station’s pumps (“Please Think Before Giving to Panhandlers . . . ,” it read), one turned and waved.

“Thomas Jefferson Thompson! How are you doing today?” he asked with a smile.