Intown Habitat Squeeze

I have to wonder:  where do they go?

With the development of Freedom Park, and then the Botanical Garden parking deck, and then the Beltline corridor, and now the new north section of Piedmont Park; and the cleaning up of parks and greenspaces along the creeks; and now the new 400/85 interchange, and the new trail under the expressway near Lindbergh -- where do all the homeless who used to live in these places go?  Seems like they've been squeezed out of most their northeast intown habitat in recent years.

Exploring the new north section of Piedmont Park shortly after it opened, I still saw their signs.  A small pile of clothes neatly stacked behind a rock in the woods (how that flannel shirt could look so fresh and dry when it had been raining daily for the past two months is a mystery).  The sudden strong scent of body spray cologne along a deserted stretch of the Beltline, indicating the presence of someone tucked away in the greenery off the trail.  A man sitting at a picnic table at dusk, waiting for park users to leave him in peace.

I guess the body spray substitutes for a bath.  I distinctly remember a similar overpowering scent of cologne when the kids and I encountered a homeless man coming up the footpath from the rocky shoals at the bend in the creek years ago, when we were exploring the wooded section of the park before they began developing it.  Back then it was still just a steep hidden footpath going down the slope where the parking deck is now, and a massive tangle of kudzu along the concrete channel funneling Clear Creek, known only to homeless and skateboarders.

So, those guys who lived in the northern wilds of Piedmont Park -- where do they go now?  And the guys who lived behind Ansley Mall and underneath Monroe.  And all the guys who lived in the kudzu that used to cover what's now the Eastside Beltline trail.  The guy with the elaborate shack in Zonolite -- where did he go when the sewer repair came through?  And the guys who live under the bridges that cross the creeks.  All those guys who lived in the shrubs along Sidney Marcus and under I-85 and Ga.400 -- where do they go now?  What's left for them?

Not that I'm a fan of the homeless (although I do have strangely fond memories of '90s Poncey Highland icons like Poncho Honcho and the Cigarette Lady).  They're a disturbing presence, an uncomfortable reminder of social breakdown.  But I know they're there and I'm familiar with their habitat, being an intrepid intown explorer myself.  Imagining the circumstances of living in these places -- bathing in the creeks, pooping in the woods, sheltering under bridges, eating god knows what -- I try to have some empathy.  If you've managed to make a go of survival here, it must be tough to have your refuge taken over by exercising urbanites.

Where do they go?