CRIME

A right to beg

Mark Ferenchik,Emily Williams
mferenchik@dispatch.com
Panhandlers Robert Campbell, left, 59, and Stephen Valdez, 51, sit along East Broad Street Downtown. The city has stopped enforcing its panhandling ordinance, fearing a legal challenge because of a 2015 U.S. Supreme Court 2015 First Amendment ruling. "I'm allowed to speak. That's freedom of speech," Campbell said. [Kyle Robertson/Dispatch]

Columbus police have stopped enforcing the city's panhandling law because of a 2015 U.S. Supreme Court ruling that attorneys have successfully used to challenge similar laws in other cities.

The Columbus City Attorney's office told police to stop using that law, and they did on June 1, fearing that the city would be challenged in court.

"It's an unintended consequence of a sweeping decision involving First Amendment issues," said Joshua T. Cox, a Columbus assistant city attorney.

The decision stems from a Gilbert, Arizona, case involving a church that rented space at an elementary school and placed about 17 signs in the area announcing the time and place for services. The city's sign regulations limited the size, number, duration and location of the signs.

The church sued, and the case eventually made it to the Supreme Court. In a 9-0 decision, the court ruled that a sign code with tougher regulations on signs directing people to a meeting of a nonprofit group than on signs with other messages could not hold up to constitutional scrutiny.

Lawyers used this decision to challenge panhandling laws. The American Civil Liberties Union of Ohio brought cases against other Ohio cities. Those cases led Akron, Dayton and Toledo to repeal their panhandling laws, said Joe Mead, a volunteer attorney with the ACLU. The ACLU is negotiating with Cleveland over damages, he said.

"Columbus is behind the game," Mead said.

The problem is this, Mead said: A city's laws prohibit people from asking for money on a corner or near an ATM, but they do not prevent people from talking about other things at the same places.

"You can sit there and insult people, or talk about Ohio State," Mead said, but you can't ask for money.

"The legal principle is broader than signs. It's about the First Amendment. Anytime a city regulation distinguishes what you do based on what you are saying, it's a problematic restriction," Mead said.

The law isn't used often. Just 20 cases of aggressive panhandling were filed in Columbus in 2016, and eight this year, said Melanie Tobias, an assistant city prosecutor.

The city's decision to stop enforcing the panhandling law frustrates South Side activist Linda Henry, who has been calling the police constantly about panhandlers at Great Southern Shopping Center.

"All this does is give panhandlers permission to aggressively panhandle," Henry said.

"People are afraid of them. They're hurting businesses again."

Robert Campbell, 59, who was sitting on a curb across from the Statehouse last week, said he has been homeless for 10 years and shouldn't be prohibited from asking people for money. Campbell, a Washington Court House native who said he has colon cancer, said a police officer threatened him when he was panhandling in the Short North, a place where, last week, a woman had bought him the pair of boots he was wearing.

"I'm allowed to speak. That's freedom of speech," he said. "Spare a little change for me, can you?" he then asked a passer-by.

Cox said that for the most part, the city's law can't be fixed legislatively. "There might be a couple things we can salvage," he said. Or the city could repeal the law. Columbus officials are looking at what's going on in Cleveland, he said.

Columbus defines aggressive panhandling as begging "with the intent to intimidate another person into giving money or goods." Intimidating behaviors include begging within 25 feet of a bank, ATM or outdoor patio or within 10 feet of a parking meter or parking lot. Police also could charge overly aggressive panhandlers with disorderly conduct or menacing, depending on the situation.

The number of panhandling incidents reported to the Short North Alliance increased 30 percent during the first half of 2017 compared with the first six months of 2016, said Betsy Pandora, the group's executive director.

"I think it's disappointing to the business community that (the code) is no longer enforceable," Pandora said.

But Lisa Defendiefer, deputy director of operations and advocacy for Capital Crossroads, said the special improvement district's actions will largely be unaffected by the change. The organization focuses more strongly on education and outreach than enforcement.

Its educational campaigns, along with the Short North Alliance's, aim to dispel panhandling myths and discourage giving. Two Capital Crossroads outreach specialists work directly with panhandlers Downtown to offer resources.

Until recently, that approach worked, Defendiefer said. But the prevalence of opioid addiction has changed the game, and panhandling Downtown has increased notably in the past year.

“We’re seeing more people coming to panhandle to feed that addiction,” Defendiefer said.

In May, Capital Crossroads sent a survey to Downtown residents, employees and business owners to gauge their feelings on panhandling. About 700 people responded, Defendiefer said, and 45 of those respondents participated in focus-group discussions last week.

These efforts, Defendiefer hopes, will generate ideas that address the causes of panhandling in ways that handing out citations can't. Many of the ideas focus on providing simpler ways for people to donate that also discourage giving money to panhandlers.

mferench@dispatch.com

@MarkFerenchik

ewilliams@dispatch.com

@eewilliams_mu

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