Dispatch from the dawn in the closed-down Mission

Unexpectedly, our present "shelter in place" condition has revived my jogging practice. I'm out most mornings at 6:30am, loping a slow 5K that includes long stretches in the bike lanes on Valencia Street.

I'm not alone out there. There's a much younger and more ambitious runner in a bright orange jacket who passes me each day around my first mile mark, off to I know not where. I see the beginnings of a line of younger folks just forming outside Ritual Coffee Roasters. At the door of Mission Pet Hospital, there is almost always someone carrying an animal in a carrier -- I guess they open at 7am? A few cyclists ride by.

All the way along Valencia, people sleep in doorways; as the season has turned warmer, the street feels slightly more hospitable for the cardboard and blanket set. I see people I recognize from among the unhoused community around St. John the Evangelist -- a woman pushing her ever-present shopping basket; a fellow wearing the protective gear of a manual laborer. We say hello sometimes. "Yes, we're still alright."

Today my routine was interrupted as I passed a tent on the sidewalk only half a block from the police station. A female voice was screaming "Get off of me!" The tent lurched a bit. There seemed to be people behind it, against a storefront. Another passersby did his best to look away.

I did something I've never done before -- called 911. "This sounds like an assault is going on ... it's right down the block from the station ..."

I have to give it to the SFPD, even if they did race up in squad cars -- they responded fast. I heard one of them say ... "Oh, it's her." They were unafraid and approached casually, wearing their masks, not escalating the situation. The young cop detailed to deal with the caller (me) explained, "We know them." I hope so if these folks were regulars on that block.

Nothing terrible happened. I left. The cops left. The tent on the sidewalk was still there when I ran by 15 minutes later. Presumably it's occupants were still there.

Maybe an occasion of domestic violence was interrupted. Maybe I over-reacted. I'll be out again tomorrow; so will most of the others. The city doesn't seem to be getting anywhere with its proclaimed intent to house people in vacant hotels during this crisis. Get on it!