My day began in an abyss: my Macbook had died, I was alone, and had spent several hours allowing Apple to ostensibly try repairing it. However, as helpful people are known to come along in the weirdest, most opportune moments, I indeed found a straggler needing a way to get home.
I met this young man, whom I'll call "Rob," as I was debarking the Garnett MARTA station. I could immediately tell he was lost, and sure enough, he was trying to get home from Atlanta's Occupy encampment to Wisconsin. Not having money to buy him a ticket, I led him to a Western Union inside the nearby Greyhound station, where his father wired money to him.
What I learned from Rob was that, although Occupy isn't incapacitated by tuberculosis, their leadership isn't being forthright about the minor outbreak with newcomers. Rob was simply told that there was "no tuberculosis" whatsoever, and although leader Tim Franzen assured the local media that the group had been thoroughly tested, Rob never saw anybody undergo a test. Perhaps tuberculosis was completely gone from the shelter by then, but I wouldn't be so blithe to assume such a thing without evidence, were I, say, a health department worker.
He also mentioned outbreaks of random violence from bystanders at Occupy Charlotte, and ample free food at Occupy DC and Occupy Wall Street, but altogether, he was ready to head home. Perhaps his timing is not unusual; as winter approaches and national attention veers, barring a surprise uprising, we may be witnessing the end of the nationwide occupation.
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