As we walked from St Anthony's toward the encampment we passed underneath I-375 and through property owned by the St Vincent de Paul Society were it seems we could have parked without quite as much adventure. As we approached TC, I could see that the entire plot of land was surrounded by chain link fence and green tarping that appeared to have been erected specifically for the purpose of enclosing the camp instead of having been there prior. The only observable way in or out of TC was a single opening in the fence around which two large converted mobile homes, one a police unit and the other a medical unit, had been parked on either side enhancing the sensation of entering a gated community or perhaps a prison.

As Caitlin and I walked up to the gate it seemed to me that there were two distinct types of individuals around the gate. One or two had the appearance of residents of TC and four or five were obviously city officials of some type or were there in some sort of administrative capacity. Specifically there was a man in uniform whose shoulder patch identified him as a member of St Petersburg Fire & Rescue. This man was headed toward his St Petersbug Fire & Rescue car which was parked right outside the entrance. The others stood out as non-residents of TC because of their appearance, by which I mean they were well groomed and dressed in clean, non tattered clothing, as well as the fact that most carried some form of radio or mobile communication.

Caitlin and I had agreed that I would take the first try at talking with the people we encounterd. As we walked up to the table where a man sat monitoring anyone attempting to enter, I saw a look of apprehension in his eyes as he looked at us. It seemed as if his thoughts were along the lines of, "These two don't belong here. I wonder what sight seeing, trouble making, pain in my ass agenda brings them." I introduced myself and Caitlin and explained that we were USFSP students who hoped to talk to some of the TC residents. I stuck out my hand and asked his name.

"I'm Eddie", he says, "and this is my first day on the job. Could you please excuse me for a minute and stay right there."

"Sure thing", I say in my best friendly, local college student voice.

Eddie yells out and catches the St Pete Fire marshall guy as he is pulling away and bends down to speak closely to him through the drivers window. The conversation is muted so even though we are only a couple of feet away, I can't make out what is being said, but from the gestures and glances, I surmise Eddie is asking fireman what the heck he should do with us.

Fireman put his car in park and gets out and comes up to us. I repeat the intros and purpose of visit spiel and fireman says we need to talk to Paul and he yells out to a group of people heading toward the entrance from inside of TC. Fireman tells the one who must be Paul who we are and what we want but before the one named Paul says anything, an older woman in the group, the one Caitlin describes as everyone's grandma, begins speaking at us.

"Well nobody may want to talk to you. They've talked to a lot of folks lately.", she says.

"Of course", says I, "We only want to talk with people who are okay with the idea."

"You all got any ID?", says grandma.

"Yes, Yes, certainly", we say as we fumble for our student IDs.

"Uh huh", says grandma while she eyes us and our IDs over, "Well most of 'em are out working right now."

And indeed the camp seems particularly empty with only a handful of people around.

"If there is anybody willing to talk with us we would appreciate it", I say.

"Well", says grandma reluctantly handing us back our IDs, "I'll see. You wait right there."

"Sure thing", I say in my best friendly, local college student voice.

Caitlin and I look at each other and kind of raise our eyebrows and smile as if to say, "Ohhh, How exciting our little field trip is becoming." We stand there for a few minutes waiting for grandma - I never did think to ask her name as it seemed she would ask the questions around here - to return. I can see her inside the camp talking to a resident who is shaking his head vigorusly back and forth in an effort to indicate he does not want to talk with us. I try to make small talk with the man named Paul who is now sitting with Eddie at the table that guards the entrance.

"Hi, I'm Brian and this is Caitlin", I say in my best friendly, local college student voice.

"Uh huh", he sort of grunts.

"Are you with the city?", I guess.

"Uh huh", he grunts again.

"I'm really impressed with the effort and the expenditure the city is obviously putting forth here", I announce in an effort to win Paul over and get him to open up a little.

"Uh huh", he grunts for the third time.

I see grandma returning. "Okay, nice chatting with Paul." I say, hopefully not too sarcastically.

Grandma informs myself and Caitlin that she has indeed found some TC residents that are willing to speak with us and instructs us to follow her into the camp. Grandma leads us to a covered pavillion type area that has a couple of picnic tables set up on a concrete slab. Sitting there are three TC residents who grandma introduces to us. Bridget is a heavyset woman who appears to be in her 30s or 40s. Fidgeting beside her is a shirtless, slender, young man, who we later learn is 24, named Patrick. Sitting off to one side in a beach type folding chair watching Judge Judy on a small portable television is man who appears to be in his 30s or 40s and is named Patrick as well. I explain for the fourth time that Caitlin and I are students from USFSP and are interested in getting their impressions of life in TC, how they have come to reside here, and what they hope the future may hold.

Bridget is the most talkative at first. She has a engaging personality and seems eager to answer our questions. The young Patrick initially indicates that he doesn't think he should speak with us, that he just wants to hang around while we talk, but this will change quickly. The older Patrick is a taciturn man who ambivalently seems to be leary of our presence but answers any direct questions with seemingly honest if somewhat terse answers.

The first questions we pose to the trio is what is daily life like at TC. All three indicate that it's "not bad", but it is Bridget who expounds. She explains that in return for abiding by rules and regulations established by the authorities that operate TC they are provided with a safe environment as well as some basic amenities such as food, water, showering facilites, as well as the tents themselves.