June 12, 2002
Willow Glen, California Since 1992
News
|
arrested, merchants miss him 
Photograph courtesy of Willow Glen Coffee Roasting Company Losing Louis: Louis Lopez, also known as 'Lincoln Louie,' was a homeless man who had become a fixture along Lincoln Avenue in Willow Glen. In this picture, he's sitting at the Willow Glen Coffee Roasting Company, whose owner, Chris Carris, like other merchants on the avenue, befriended him and gave him odd jobs to do. By Susan Wiedmann For nearly 20 years, Louis Lopez called Lincoln Avenue his home. He survived street life primarily through the goodwill of merchants, who gave the mentally ill man small jobs, handouts and understanding. Lopez became a part of their daily lives, and on many occasions displayed his superior intelligence in conversations with them about a wide variety of subjects. At other times, however, his mental illness controlled him, and his conversations were with his invisible companions in the stores and on the avenue. Lopez's life spiraled out of control on May 2, when he resisted arrest following a lewd comment he allegedly made to a shopper and her child. His arrest centers around that incident, which took place outside The French Quarter. When a police officer responded to a complaint about it, Lopez was near the alleyway between Vin Santo and The Thrift Box. What happened next is now part of a San Jose Police Department internal investigation. Lopez tried to evade several police officers who had been called to provide assistance at the scene. He wound up being injured in a scuffle with the officers on the sidewalk as they attempted to arrest him. Lopez left Lincoln Avenue in an ambulance, but his injuries were not critical. Charges against him were dropped, and he is now living with his brother David in Utah. In a phone interview with the Willow Glen Resident from his new home, Lopez said he doesn't blame the police officers for their actions. "I put myself in their shoes," Lopez said. "It was just an event that was bound to happen. You can't point the finger. We live every day, and some people like myself get caught up in a lifestyle and the inevitable happens." About his new life in a rural area of Utah, Lopez spoke philosophically. "Life gave me an opportunity to be here and start over again," he said. "I was in Willow Glen for whatever destiny I have, and I did the best I could." When asked to comment on whether correct police procedures were followed during the arrest, San Jose Assistant Police Chief Thomas Wheatley said he could not comment on an ongoing internal investigation. He pointed out that police are trained to bring individuals down to the ground in order to handcuff them if they are uncooperative while being arrested. On the day of the arrest, Chris Carris, owner of the Willow Glen Coffee Roasting Company, watched the situation from across the street. He has known Lopez for four years and remembers many times when the tall, husky man would hold conversations with him or customers, real or imagined, on any subject. Carris said that Lopez was an avid reader and that he would sing along whenever he heard a Sinatra song playing in Carris' shop. "That day he had been drinking, and I told him to go home," Carris remembers. "Knowing him, he made the remarks to the woman and little girl." But Carris and other local merchants understood that Lopez's ramblings were part of his illness, and they still consider him to be harmless. Carris said that Lopez was the information gatherer on Lincoln Avenue during his lucid times, when he would gladly run errands for merchants. "Arrests in Willow Glen are almost nonexistent," Carris said. "In all fairness, the police tried different stages of police procedure. They told him, 'Get down on your stomach,' and he resisted. Some people say what happened is harsh, but they were following procedure. The former police squad knew him, but these were new individuals." When he now passes Le Boulanger cafe, Carris says he looks automatically to the outside corner table at which Lopez used to sit. Lopez said he used to work for the government in Nevada and eventually came to the San Jose area to work for Lockheed Martin. That didn't work out, and he slid into a life of homelessness on Lincoln Avenue around 1983. For the past six years, Lopez slept in the open behind Willow Glen Tailor after having been evicted from the back area of a nearby restaurant upon its sale. Carris has heard that a couple of merchants on the avenue would take Lopez to the YMCA so that he could take a shower. Some merchants have said that they initially didn't even know Lopez was homeless because he didn't look dirty and always wore his hair pulled back. Lopez takes note of ongoing changes to the Willow Glen downtown area. "When I first got there it was changing already," Lopez recalled. "Some people were trying to compete with Los Gatos, but a lot wanted to keep the Willow Glen identity." Several Willow Glen merchants remember Lopez fondly. "I knew Louis since the first day I bought the business, about a year ago," said Kay Wolf, the owner of the Posey Garden florist shop. "He would come in almost every day and empty my trash for me," she said. "The previous owner had told me all about him because he had worked with him, too. He was just a great guy, harmless." She gave him flowers occasionally, and he would check on her and her flower designer, Dianna Gatto, when they worked late. "We talked mainly about what was going on in the world," Wolf said. "I was always kind of surprised that he knew about current events. He read a lot." Wolf was sick awhile ago and out of work for a week. When she came back Lopez was concerned, asking every day about her health. Whenever he wanted to leave his knapsacks in front of her store, she would give him a time by which he would have to pick them up, which, she said, he always honored. Gatto has known Lopez since she was in high school, working part time at a flower shop behind Le Boulanger. At Posey's, he would come in frequently, but occasionally he didn't notice the women were there. "Some days he would come in and talk to himself and talk to the wall, but on other days he would make direct eye contact, telling me stories or saying, 'You don't have to worry about the little things,' " Gatto said. He knew that she had an interest in music and would talk about music he remembered from back in the '50s and '60s, and even about music deals that were in the news back then. "He had many little compartments of information up there," Gatto said, pointing to her head. "He was just a big, gentle soul," Wolf said. "We miss him, but if he's someplace where he can get help and get settled, then it's best for him." As for Lopez, he wanted to extend a message to the merchants on Lincoln Avenue. "Just say 'hi' and thank them for putting up with me all these years. I will keep in touch. I miss them," Lopez said. Carris pointed out that Willow Glen has its share of homeless people. One of about six he notices regularly strides down Lincoln Avenue pushing a shopping cart with a small American flag tied to its front. He walks briskly to nowhere in particular, then turns around and goes the other way. The determined look on his face is framed by long, matted hair that resembles a bird's nest. Carris has heard that the man plays his guitar at the corner of Minnesota and Lincoln avenues. Like Lopez, the guitar man obviously has a past that went awry. Down by the railroad tracks near Highway 280 is where "Ragman" stays, Carris said. Ragman is the name Carris said he thinks of whenever he sees the man, who is dressed in filthy, oily-looking, ragged clothes, with a face that is so dirty that Carris says you can barely see its features. The last time Carris saw Ragman his arms were outstretched - he was looking at the sky. By comparison, Lopez is now living a charmed life. |
Feedback, or story ideas for the Willow Glen Resident?
(Close this Window to go back to our home page.)
Copyright © SVCN, LLC. Maintained by GoGuys, Inc.