ONE MAN'S GARBAGE written by Linda Thompson photgraphy by Astrid Rieken Mark spends his evenings pushing a shopping cart through the Haight and Mission districts. He stops at every garbage bin, and with his bare hands, carefully sifts through the refuse, grabbing aluminum cans, glass and plastic bottles. "I do this by choice," he says. "And it's a necessity." Mark, 37, then hauls his collectibles to a nonprofit recycling center on Market and Duboce to exchange them for money. A chain-link fence topped with barbed wire surrounds the site, and the back area serves as a parking lot for shopping carts. Once there, Mark separates the glass from the aluminum and checks for the California redemption only labels. After tossing the recyclables into the appropriate containers, he drops them onto a scale. "I've brought in 200 to 400 pounds at a time," Mark says, when taking a break from lifting the heavy containers. He gets 5 cents a pound for glass bottles and 75 cents a pound for aluminum cans. Bar owners and party throwers sometimes offer him giant bags of the stuff. Mark also admits going through curbside-recycling bins, although he says doesn't do it anymore. "All I can say is, I won't ignore bottles." Because some people turn to recycling bins as collection sources, some question if this calls for disciplinary action, and who benefits from these redemptions. According to a 1990 ordinance passed by the Board of Supervisors, taking recyclables from recycling bins is a misdemeanor, which can lead to six months imprisonment and a $500 fine. Mark believes it's a stupid law. "You know, people could be doing a lot worse," he says. "At least half of us are making a decent living. I choose to do this. I could be doing things that are a lot worse." The San Francisco Police Department considers the theft of recyclables as an infraction, and 10 citations result in a misdemeanor. Since March 1995, there's been more than 430 citations. "Once they're [recyclables] set out in a recycling bin, one could make a case and argue that they belong to The City," says Lt. D. Beijen of the SFPD's General Investigations Bureau. Although garbage is considered abandoned property, recyclables aren't. "Most of the time we admonish the homeless," Beijen says. Mark says he has not been approached by the police. Debra Hayes, chief of the Special Prosecutions Unit for the San Francisco District Attorney's Office, agrees with Beijen that prosecuting the homeless is a sensitive issue. "The court doesn't approve bringing in the underprivileged to be prosecuted for engaging in the recycling process," she says. Beijen emphasizes their main target is not the homeless, but rather poachers. Poachers are people who make it a business to drive in vehicles and collect large amounts of recyclables from curbside bins. Beijen developed an enforcement program to counteract poaching in San Francisco. Mark begins to chuckle at the mention of poachers. "Those guys in the vans make me laugh," he says. "I'd be making my rounds with my cart, and they'll drive by, take the bins, dump them, making all kinds of noise. They make so much noise!" Whether it's done by poachers or homeless individuals, some maintain taking cans and bottles is an act of stealing that should be disciplined. "From a personal point of view, I have no tolerance for anyone taking curbside recyclables," says Bob Besso, recycling manager of Sunset Scavenger. His company is a private contractor with The City. Besso also feels The City's residents are the ones who feel the greatest impact. "The way The City loses is when residents get so frustrated from the noise and litter," he says, referring to the complaints residents sometimes make about the rattling of glass bottles and crashing aluminum in the middle of the night. Some get so fed up, "they sometimes stop recycling altogether." Residents also lose revenue from the unauthorized removal of their recyclables. According to the San Francisco Recycling Program, San Francisco residents receive a rebate determined by the amount of revenue generated on the redemption of recyclables; it is then distributed among residents. The SFRP estimates 25 percent of the bottles placed on the curb are stolen. In 1996, their value was estimated at about $40,000. Revenue from the sales of recyclables, valued at more than $2.6 million, is refunded to residents on their garbage bills. "When the revenue is less, the rebate is less for rate payers," says David Assmann, public outreach coordinator for the SFRP. But overall, "There is no fiscal impact on The City," he says. "Not everyone considers this a problem." Noise is the major complaint of Portrero Hill resident Eric Whittman, who wakes up every Monday around 3 a.m. "I can hear glass bottles rattling, sometimes people talking," he says. His neighbors also find it quite a nuisance. Whittman's not concerned about the stealing of his bin items since he knows they will all end up recycled. But he would be more than happy to give up his cans and bottles. "I just want the noise to stop." Who does he think takes recyclables from the bins? "I don't know," Whittman says. He's never bothered to check. Complaints from residents regarding noise almost shut down the Market and Duboce recycling center, says Morris Dransfield, supervisor of the site. "It was an ongoing struggle for a few years," he says. First located in a Safeway parking lot, it eventually moved to its current location. Dransfield insists noise wasn't the real issue, saying residents used it as an excuse to conceal their true feelings: "That it attracts a lot of poor, black men," he says. Many people continue to rely on the center for their collections. "A person can easily earn $5 to $15, or $20 a day," Dransfield says. "We get homeless [people], but a majority are welfare recipients." Dransfield pauses for a moment, then says, "You know, I'd say 98 percent of the men who come by here are Vietnam vets." Dransfield is asked about the possibility that money earned through redemption could be supporting drug and alcohol addictions. "It [money] can get them food, cigarettes, alcohol - whatever they need," he says. "And whatever they do with it, really, is their business." Right now Mark spends about $159 a week on rent at a hotel. He says he'll continue to take it easy and intends to keep collecting bottles and cans. "This city is rich in resources," he says, referring to the many trash bins and the generous bags of donations he receives from residents and local businesses. Mark says he probably won't search through recycling bins again. "But like I said, I don't ignore bottles." |ISSUE #1|FEATURES|A&E|INVESTIGATIVE|GREEN WATCH| |NAKED TRUTH|IN MOTION|HEALTH|LIFESTYLES|FYI|INDEX|