Spent some time yesterday with Vincent Ray Williams III, a young man I’d met a couple times through Seneca Scott. Vincent volunteers to help unhoused people through Urban Park Cleanup, of which he is founder and CEO.
UPC and Vincent have gotten a lot of positive media coverage for cleaning up trash—broken glass, needles and so on—from areas populated by homeless people. As he explained to Oaklandside, it all started for him a few years ago when he was working out in MLK Park, in West Oakland, and met a little kid, who told Vincent he and his mom lived in a nearby van. He said his mom wouldn’t let him play in the park because it was “too dirty.” “I looked around and noticed the amount of trash,” recalled Vincent, “and I looked again at this six-year old child, and I saw myself.” The next morning, Vincent drove to Home Depot and bought garbage bags, a rake, a shovel, and a broom, and rented a leafblower—all from his own pocket. “Then I went back and cleaned the park, bagging every piece of trash I could see. I worked for 12 hours that Saturday, and 9 hours on Sunday, until the park was completely free of trash.”
Vincent has been homeless himself, addicted, and in prison a few times. (I wouldn’t tell you these things, if Vincent didn’t talk about them in his speeches.) He’s been sober for nine years. When I first heard Vincent speak, a few months ago at a press conference Seneca’s Neighbors Together Oakland held in West Oakland, I was mightily impressed. Here was a man whose life easily could have gone downhill. But somehow, something touched his heart. And when it comes to speechifying, Vincent is pretty damned good.
We chatted for an hour, sitting under the sun at Red Bay Coffee. Vincent mentioned a homeless lady he’d read about. She was reportedly 85 years old and lived in a little tent in Snow Park. Vincent wanted to find her, to see how she was doing. He has connections all over town; he might even be able to find her housing, if that’s what she wanted. We drove over to Snow Park. All Vincent knew was that the old lady’s tent had a blue top. We saw a little blue tent pitched on the slope off 19th Street. As we paced by Vincent called the lady’s name. No answer. Then a man came up; his tent was 20 yards away. He was friendly and voluble. “Are you looking for ____?” he asked, mentioning the lady’s name. I think Vincent had the same thought I did: the old lady might be in the tent, but, at her great age, unable to respond. Yet Vincent dared not violate her domain. Understanding, the man explained that there’s a tradition of neighbors “knocking” on a tent and asking if anyone’s home. If there’s no answer, it’s okay to open the tent flap to make sure everything’s okay. The man did that; the tent was empty; wherever she was, the old lady was not home.
Vincent vowed to return until he found her. “Do you need anything?” he asked the man.
The man said all he needed was AA and AAA batteries. Vincent told him he’d come tomorrow morning with batteries. Another homeless man, much younger, who had been watching us from a distance, came up. He held out a can of something and said he needed a can opener, which none of us had. Vincent told him, too, he’d be back in the morning with a can opener.
And thus his days are spent. I am in awe of Vincent. There’s something—I don’t know—Mother Theresa about him. I mean no disrespect. Quite the contrary. The man inspires. When we parted, I thanked Vincent for sharing part of his life with me.
People like Vincent are City Treasures. Please consider donating to Urban Park Cleanup.
Steve Heimoff