The Grim Reaper wears all black, with a “Veterans for Peace” pin penned to his sweatshirt and his right arm in a cast, following an altercation of some sort the night before. He offers to show me around.
Grim Reaper leads me down the narrow lane called Gandhi Street, marked by a statue of the late Indian leader. He points to Weirdo Street, a narrow strip of grass along Atlantic Avenue, on the outskirts of Dewey Square. “No reason to go over there,” he says. “It’s just where all the weirdos live.”
He weaves expertly through “side streets” — small planks of wood that serve as makeshift pathways for navigating through the sea of tents. As he walks, he references police run-ins, fights among residents and internal issues — all vague, half-explained and muffled by the ski mask that covers his mouth.
He lifts his mask but once to talk about his time in the military. And he bangs on both legs — metal prosthetics substituting for the limbs he lost overseas.
“Be careful and look for someone in a yellow vest, if anything happens,” he says as the tour ends.
The tent city
By day, Occupy Boston is a leaderless movement of serious young adults and older, seasoned protesters. It has become a local attraction for tourists and Boston residents alike, who visit Dewey Square for events such as musician Amanda Palmer’s Oct. 6 performance and social activist Noam Chomsky’s Oct. 22 appearance.
By night, Dewey Square is a mix of strong believers and homeless folks, who’ve established a new home — a small city within the city. It has its own streets, its own neighborhoods, its own crime from time-to-time, its own neon-vest-clad security … and a single Boston Police Department officer, who stays outside the perimeter on detail overnight.
Like any city, the Dewey Square encampment has its “commercial” section — tents filled with food and donated clothes. There’s a space for yoga, a library. There’s also a legal tent and a medical tent. And Occupy has its own news publication.
