Homeless Say 'Don't Blame Us' for All of Broadway's Woes

Michael Monroe and Joseph Coite live on Newport's streets.

They've heard the complaints about problems that occur up and down Broadway – drinking, panhandling, loitering, public urination and defecation. They've witnessed many of the events firsthand, and admittedly have partaken, and been cited by police, for some of them. Just a week ago, on July 22, Monroe was cited for drinking and urinating in public in Equality Park.

Still, they say they are deeply insulted by the way some business owners and residents blame "those people" for the problems that plague the historic district. They equally dislike how one group is now trying to get the McKinney Shelter, located at 50 Washington Square, moved out of downtown altogether. The two attended a community meeting at the Newport Police Station in July that was focused on the issue, but they left halfway through because they were too offended by some of what they heard.

"We had to get up and walk out," Monroe said. "My temper soared hearing some of those things."

Monroe, 56, and Coite, 52, say they understand there are some homeless individuals and shelter residents causing trouble on Broadway, but it's unfair to categorize everyone on the streets as problems.

"Why is everyone in this town picking on us?" Coite asked. "I am terminally ill with lung disease. I only eat about every four days. You think I have the energy to push things over? I don't panhandle. I don't push anything. We don't do that. Sure, we may fall asleep on a park bench, but we're not out there begging for money. We don't have the nerve for that."

Monroe and Coite are a close pair, staying by each other's side most of the day and often falling asleep near each other at night. The two say they have a good relationship with most of the police officers who patrol Broadway, particularly Officer Jimmy Winters, and that for the most part they try to keep to themselves, leaning on each other for their needs, or turning to relatives who live in Newport for help.

Part of the problem, they say, is misperception from those who don't walk in their shoes and are not there nightly to see what happens.

Monroe relayed a recent night when he came across a set of trash cans and newspaper boxes that had been thrown out into the street.

"I came by at midnight and everything was fine," Monroe said. "Then I walked by at 5 a.m. and it was all out in the middle of the street. They blame it on the homeless, but they don't know."

"They don't see what we see," Coite said. "We watch these people, these kids, come out of the bars at night, knocking planters over, throwing bottles down, pulling up the roots of flowers. What's the sense in that?"

While Monroe and Coite keep to themselves and say they try to stay out of people's way, keeping the sidewalks clear and getting up when someone else needs a seat, they are the first to admit they are victims of the bottle, the biggest problem plaguing people on the streets.

The two start their morning at Andrews Liquor, buying their first pint of vodka when the doors open at 7:30 a.m. Sometimes they'll make it through the day with just that, but most often they say they average three to four bottles.

Often, they try to feed their drinking habits out of the public eye, but they can sometimes be spotted stealing a quick drink out on Broadway. Both have been cited multiple times over the years for the offense.

On July 25, Monroe was cited by police for public drinking and public urination. The report says an officer observed Monroe pull a pint-sized bottle of Caldwell Vokda out of his left sleeve and drink the remaining contents in one gulp. He then reportedly relieved himself on the fence surrounding Equality Park. The way Monroe tells the story, he pulled the bottle away from a sleeping Coite in an attempt to save his friend from trouble. While being written up by the officer, he says he pleaded for the chance to get to the nearest bathroom, but was told by the officer that he couldn't leave the scene until he was done writing the ticket. Monroe then wet himself.

Coite says he started drinking at 15 and that over the years it started to get out of control. While he says he spent some time in the military and years as a painter, he noted that he hasn't really had a steady home since he was 13. Monroe held a number of administrative roles during his career, including running the AmeriCorps VISTA program for Newport County in the late 1970s. Officer Winters says he actually served under Monroe as a VISTA volunteer. Monroe says his problem with alcohol has been ongoing, but that his troubles really began when his mother and aunt both died within three months of each other in 1993. He's been on the street for the better part of the last decade.

"You're talking to two educated men, who've worked for several companies. How did we end up here?" Coite asked.

"It's the bottle," Monroe responded to his friend.

"Not for me it wasn't."

"Don't kid yourself."

Both have been to rehab several times. Monroe claims to have gone to detox centers at least three times in the past few years, sometimes on his own will. But when they get out, it's back to the streets, and back to the bottle.

"We stick together," Coite said. "Once alcohol's got you by your butt, there's no kicking it."

They spend their days up and down Broadway, but also occasionally take walks down Thames Street, hang out at King Park, or visit Easton's Beach. Coite says it usually depends on his energy level how far they can go.

He says he receives about $670 a month in Social Security checks. Monroe is working to get a disability check. Both rely on family, friends and those who have befriended them on the streets for help.

Monroe and Coite have been in and out of McKinney Shelter for years. Both say it's not a place they want to be associated with, and they only stay there during the winter months when it's absolutely necessary. In the summer, they spend the night in their "spots" around town—park benches, churchyards and the other nooks of Newport.

To those who want to move the McKinney Shelter out of downtown, they say the proposal ignores the root of the problem. Both know they have a drinking problem. But to the people who want the homeless off Broadway, they ask: where do you want us to go?

"If you don't want us on Washington Square, what makes you think you can put us in those neighborhoods?" Coite asked.

"You think there's people in these private neighborhoods that will take us in?" Monroe added.

They argue that moving the shelter would also put them further away from the soup kitchens and services they need, such as those offered at East Bay Community Action Program and the Martin Luther King Jr. Center. Both are located along Broadway.

Neither blame others for where they are now. Both say they recognize there is no easy answer to fixing the problem. All they ask is for those who have been trying to clean up Broadway for years to spend just a day experiencing their side of the story.

"If those people put up their car keys and wallets and stayed out here for a night, tried to find a place to sleep, tried to find a place to eat, then maybe they'll know what it's like," Coite said. "But they won't do it."

"When you've walked in my shoes," Monroe added, "then you can criticize me."