DONATING TO A NONPROFIT IS NOT THE SAME AS HELPING THE HOMELESS!
By Max R. Weller
My neighborhood around N. Broadway & U.S. 36 was overrun yesterday morning by fans of this triathlon. They lined the far side of the highway and many parked in the nearby CDOT lot (posted NO TRESPASSING) for the bicycling phase. There was even a large food/beverage truck which set up for business on this state agency’s property, leaving shortly after Drunk Doris went staggering over from the corner to ask them for a handout — which was apparently refused.
Doris (not her real name) is the alcoholic Native American woman who was evicted from Housing First at 1175 Lee Hill after inviting her street friends to stay overnight in her apartment, and lately she’s invited a couple of drunken child molesters and another female refugee from the “res” to join her in camping underneath the only shade tree in front of the nearby Mexican restaurant, which is right next to my favorite spot on the wall there. These bums get government checks and other kinds of taxpayer-funded benefits, but they continue to panhandle. WTF?
But, I digress . . .
Ironman Boulder fans, including a few very young kids who probably had no idea why they were there in the blazing sun, were whooping and hollering and ringing their blasted cowbells for a couple of hours. I remarked to a passing motorist, during the time I was playing the role of humble beggar in the median, that I wondered if these noisy fans would be as excited about a cure for cancer. I tend to doubt it.
One thing did tickle me, however — CDOT crews had set up orange traffic cones along the border of the bike lane, and none of the competitors could straddle the white line with their spandex-clad butts hanging out in front of passing motor vehicles. In fairness, I must point out that unlike the recreational cyclists I see daily, the triathletes rode their bikes SINGLE FILE. Too bad CDOT couldn’t have left those traffic cones in place.
Read Boulder police: Armed witness rescued woman from attempted murder outside church. Quoting from the report below:
Police describe Heriberto Haro-Luna, drunk and incensed, confronting his recently estranged wife in a Boulder church parking lot, trapping her by the neck and threatening to slit her throat as she uttered final prayers.
It was just before 6 p.m. Thursday, and an employee of Sacred Heart of Jesus, at 14th Street and Mapleton Avenue, happened to be walking to his car — with his concealed handgun — as the confrontation simmered.
He knew the woman, and he watched closely from a short distance as a verbal argument became physical and eventually turned into what police are now calling an attempted murder.
They say the church employee — who hasn’t yet been identified — thwarted Haro-Luna’s attack and may have saved a life in the process.
“He was familiar with the woman as a regular parishioner on Thursday evenings,” Detective Sgt. Jim MacPherson said.
“He saw (Haro-Luna) put his arm around her neck. She had actually started saying her prayers. She thought she was going to die right there.”
The witness has a permit to carry a concealed handgun, MacPherson said.
“He presented (the gun) and told the man to leave her alone,” he added. “It was very fortunate he was there.”
Seeing the weapon, police say, Haro-Luna fled the parking lot and was captured shortly thereafter at the corner of Broadway and Mapleton Avenue by officers who subdued him with a Taser.
Heriberto Haro-Luna (Boulder County Sheriff’s Office)
Hey, how come nobody is making excuses for the Hispanic guy, the way they are for this white boy? See:
Only in Boulder does anyone get so much sympathy for attacking two innocent people with a knife, then going after police officers with a hammer. NASA program intern-to-be, according to the Daily Camera? I’ll bet everyone associated with that program is breathing a sigh of relief now. And reviewing how they screen candidates for internships.
A profitable day for the Homeless Philosopher yesterday: $61 and an interesting book about mountain men to read. The granola bars, as always, I give away to others because I can’t chew them.
Tonight at my campsite: Chester’s fried chicken, perhaps?