What will be the legacy of the squeegee tragedy?
The matter of squeegee workers on Baltimore street corners blew up these last few years — with fear, resentment and sometimes hostility between those trying to earn a few bucks cleaning windshields and the drivers behind them. Anyone could have predicted tragedy. Many did.
“Someone’s going to get killed” became mantra in the debate, and a year ago, in the heat of summer, we had the worst case, at East Conway and Light streets, across from Harborplace. Black boys were cleaning windshields in the afternoon traffic. Something happened, we still don’t know what exactly. A driver, a large, middle-aged white man named Tim Reynolds, appeared with a baseball bat. He walked across 10 lanes of traffic to confront the squeegee workers. He swung the bat. There were shots. Reynolds died. The boys ran. Police arrested one of them, age 14. They charged him as an adult with murder.
The boy pleaded not guilty. He went on trial in Baltimore Circuit Court. On Thursday, the jury found him guilty of manslaughter. He was acquitted of firstand second-degree murder charges.
This case amounts to one of the worst tragedies in a city of many tragedies. It was the violent crescendo to a heated municipal debate that blew up during Baltimore’s prolonged post-Freddie Gray, post-pandemic struggles.
People look for the good that comes from tragedy. It’s human nature to do so, but it’s the biggest emotional challenge in life.
Anytime someone dies before their time — a teenager gunned down on a city street, a younger sibling taken quickly by a fierce form of cancer, a spouse who dies in an accident — the first emotion is shock, followed by sorrow, followed by resentment and even anger, a feeling of having been cheated. There’s that thing called survivor’s guilt, too.
Acceptance of the loss only comes with time. But there’s no guarantee that, after walking miles through all those emotions, you’ll find peace.
So, rather than become paralyzed with regrets, we look for the good that comes from tragedy. It’s human nature.
It’s why I look at periodic reports of the Squeegee Collaborative, convened after the
Conway Street tragedy by Mayor Brandon Scott to address the matter of the squeegee workers from the ground up — that is, with a holistic plan to guide teenagers and young adults away from washing windshields at busy intersections.
As a result, the city now has an infrastructure, through the Mayor’s Office of African American Male Engagement, to reach squeegee guys, assess their needs and maybe help them find a new line of work.
As reported in an earlier column, there’s been some progress. The people who
groused loudest about the squeegee guys ought to take note.
The main accomplishments appear to be twofold: An overall reduction in calls and complaints about squeegee workers at the big intersections where they had been commonly seen, and an effective outreach to help them get on a better path.
Scott declared six no-squeegee zones when the collaborative rolled out its plan in January. The presence of Baltimore police officers in those areas appears to have helped keep squeegee workers away, though they still appear from time to time at traditional locations — Mount Royal and North avenues, for instance, and along President Street.
According to Faith Leach, the city’s chief administrative officer, officers have issued 15 warnings to squeegee workers this year, but no citations. That’s considered a good thing. The idea is to have the 16 outreach workers from the Office of African American Male Engagement make the approach.
“Squeegee workers are leaving as soon as they see a BPD officer, so BPD is unable to issue a citation,” Leach wrote in an email. “BPD is engaging outreach workers when they see a squeegee worker and the outreach worker is engaging the worker prior to BPD involvement. We have seen early success without criminalizing squeegee workers. Providing immediate access to jobs and wraparound supports has made a huge difference.”
According to the latest collaborative report, calls to 911 about squeegee workers have gone up significantly because of increased citywide monitoring. The calls ranged from a high of 66 during the week of May 14 to a low of 29 during the week of July 2.
During the week of July 9, outreach workers from the mayor’s office successfully engaged 156 squeegee boys and young men. That means, at minimum, that the city’s offers of help were not rejected, and conversations were started. The city has placed 38 squeegee workers in jobs since January.
While reports of crimes linked to squeegee workers are down by nearly 80% over the same period last year, they still happen. On July 11, on Northern Parkway at Loch Raven Boulevard, a 79-year-old woman told police she was sprayed in the face with window cleaner after she questioned a juvenile worker who tried to clean a window without her permission. The same day, on Hillen Road near Morgan State University, two squeegee workers grabbed a driver’s cellphone and quickly used a cash-transaction app to get away with $700.
So it’s not all good, not by any means. And there’s no way to predict if the Squeegee Collaborative will work over time.
But it’s a start. And should it one day be confirmed a municipal achievement, we’ll be able to say that, in Baltimore, not all tragedies perpetuate tragedy. Some force us to act. Some might even deliver us to a better place.