Cornelius Taylor’s death tests Atlanta’s ‘compassionate’ homeless strategy

On Jan. 16, when a Department of Public Works crew swept a homeless encampment at Old Wheat Street, it was under the auspices of a policy to preserve the dignity of the people who call it home.

By the end of the day, Cornelius Taylor, a 46-year-old man living at the camp, was dead. Judging by an interview with a Fulton County pathologist, he was likely crushed under the weight of heavy machinery used to clear the site.

What went wrong?

Department of Public Works standard operating procedures for encampment clearings obtained by The Atlanta Journal-Constitution say crews should treat people at the camps with “utmost empathy, respect and sensitivity.”

But critics of the city’s homeless strategy say Taylor’s death, which occurred just feet away from Ebenezer Baptist Church on Martin Luther King Day weekend, reveals how dangerous and counterproductive sweeps are. In the weeks since, calls to end the clearings have intensified and both the mayor and city council have backed a temporary pause on the sweeps.

Credit: arvin.temkar@ajc.com

Credit: arvin.temkar@ajc.com

During a Feb. 10 editorial board meeting at The Atlanta Journal-Constitution, Mayor Andre Dickens said the city still didn’t know exactly why the sweep turned deadly. But, he said, it is clear the city needs new procedures to make sure no one is left in harm’s way during future cleanups.

The mayor, however, defended the sweeps, and said every effort had been made to find shelter or housing for people living at the camp.

“It is impeding the roadway. It is blocking the street, and you are not supposed to live there. Nor are you supposed to put things on the roadway,” he said. “We have to ask you to go to shelter, and we have shelter for you.”

Credit: Arvin Temkar/AJC

In the meantime, Taylor’s family members and homeless advocates want more than just a moratorium. They want the city to permanently end the sweeps.

Dickens said that is unlikely to happen.

“We will go back to cleaning at some point. Why? Because in order to get them where they need to go in life, we have to do this process,” the mayor said.

‘Whack-a-mole’

Timothy Franzen, part of a coalition called Justice for Cornelius Taylor, said there are 15 to 20 people still living at the camp on Old Wheat Street. That, he said, demonstrates just how ineffective the sweeps are.

“This perpetual whack-a-mole just creates more desperation,” he said.

Credit: Ben Gray for the Atlanta Journal-Constitution

On the morning of Feb. 12, Gus Hendricks stood in the middle of the camp, bristling at city policies he blamed for his friend’s death. Despite living through the trauma of losing someone close, Hendricks said the community is still strong.

“My blanket is your blanket. My pillow is your pillow,” he said. “Please don’t judge this community because there’s a lot of love here. We love each other just as hard as you love your family. But we will stand until things are done. It’s not like somebody fell and broke a leg. We lost a brother, we lost a life. Somebody lost a son, a father, to the negligence of the city of Atlanta.”

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Dickens counts himself as a strong advocate for ending homelessness and a proponent of a “housing first” approach to put roofs over people’s heads. Last year, he announced a city investment of $60 million for rapid housing and wraparound services, building on projects like The Melody — a micro-living community for 40 people in downtown created using shipping containers leftover from the state’s emergency response to the COVID-19 pandemic.

More permanent housing was opened. And with more in the works, Dickens said he wants 500 rapid housing units by the end of the year.

Credit: Ben Gray

“It’s a moral thing to me,” the mayor said. “It’s a very important thing that we take care of those that are experiencing homelessness and get them out of homelessness.”

“We’re trying to build our way out of it by building housing units — we know we can’t build fast enough,” he added.

Even so, Partners for HOME’s point-in-time count found 2,867 people were still experiencing homelessness last year. Franzen said there is a disconnect between the city’s policies and the rhetoric.

“They may say they’re committed to a housing first policy. In practice, they definitely are not,” Franzen said. “There’s 3,000 people, at least on the low end, sleeping under the stars every night in Atlanta, and there’s not 3,000 beds for them. There’s not even 300 beds. So, it’s a ridiculous notion.”

Credit: Ben Gray for the Atlanta Journal-Constitution

Homeless advocate Nolan English, founder and executive director of Grace Ministries, said the city needs to do more to meet the moment.

“It’s never happened in Atlanta to the scale it needs to happen,” he said. “Why are we still talking about The Melody? The Melody has not kept up with the pace of homelessness in any way, shape or form. The Melody has not moved the needle.”

Witnesses described the construction vehicle at the Old Wheat Street clearing as a front loader or bulldozer. Public works department records show a truck-mounted crane with an articulated arm and claw called a Knuckle Boom is used.

Whatever heavy machinery the city used, it appears it was with enough force to fracture Taylor’s pelvic bone and crush his liver and spleen, lawyers representing his family said in January after interviewing a Fulton County pathologist.

ExploreLawyer: Man who died in homeless sweep suffered severe injuries

At the encampment, English showed the AJC the collapsed tent he said Taylor was resting in the night before he died. It was just feet away from a ribbon of yellow tape and a memorial of wilting yellow, violet and orange flowers, glass candle holders and melted wax.

Under the pitter-patter of rain, English stooped and turned over the crumpled plastic, looking for bloodstains that might hint at Taylor’s injuries. Homicide detectives are leading the probe into Taylor’s death, though their investigative report is still pending.

Credit: Miguel Martinez-Jimenez

Rules of engagement

Partners for HOME coordinates the city’s homeless strategy. It has a 100-day process and six steps for encampment closures, which includes outreach and a plan to move people from the camps into shelters or housing. Camp cleaning is the second-to-last step in the process.

Documents from Public Works and Partners for HOME examined by the AJC did not mention tent checks. The Atlanta Police Department did not respond to questions about which agency, if any, is responsible for final verification before cleaning crews move in.

Mayor’s office spokeswoman Allison J. Fouché did not make clear if there are measures in place for verification. However, she said a Homeless Task Force created in the wake of Taylor’s death would examine the city’s policies and procedures.

“A determination of final verification of tents will be made upon completion of this review, in addition to other standard operating procedures and checklists,” she said.

Credit: Steve Schaefer /

The Atlanta Police Department and the mayor’s office coordinate with other city and state agencies during sweeps. But it is the mayor’s office that has the final say on which camps to target, according to District 5 Councilmember Liliana Bakhtiari, who was harshly critical of the sweeps.

“They’re the only ones that can order a sweep,” Bakhtiari said in an interview.

Fouché disputed that claim.

She said it is a city of Atlanta encampment working group made up of “city staff and stakeholders,” including Partners for HOME and the Georgia Department of Transportation, that decides which encampments to target for closure — not the mayor’s office.

When asked if it was the mayor’s office or another department that makes the final decision to move forward with a sweep, she described it as a “group project.”

“No one makes orders,” she wrote in an email. “That’s why there is a group that meets.”

Partners for HOME CEO Cathryn Vassell said her organization was engaging with people at the camp as early as April 2024. But she told city council members at a Community Development and Human Services Committee meeting in February that her group was not leading the closure. It was not always possible to follow its own policies if the city decides to sweep a camp at short notice, she added.

“Our position always is, if this encampment is going to be closed and it doesn’t enable us enough time to adhere to our policy, then there is only so much we can do from a social service aspect to follow our policy,” Vassell said.

Vassell told the AJC that she believed the public works crew were clearing the encampment in preparation for Martin Luther King Jr. Day weekend celebrations. There was additional pressure to close the camp quickly because a man in the community, later identified as Davinci Barcelo, threatened to forcibly remove people himself, she said.

Barcelo is the principal consultant of Historic District Development Corporation, an entity that also complained about the camp, Vassell told the AJC. He also heads a public safety community group called Sweet Auburn Frontline Enforcement, or SAFE, which offers private security services and patrols the streets. The group’s website says it is on a mission to “decommission unlawful encampments that foster crime and disorder.”

“I think the city had wanted to prioritize the encampment closure as well, and given the threat that was made by this individual, we were lending whatever support we could provide to close the encampment,” Vassell told council members at the committee meeting.

Historic District Development Corporation president and CEO Cheneé Joseph confirmed Barcelo does consulting work for the organization, but said he was not doing any public safety or security work on the corporation’s behalf.

Barcelo declined a request for an interview. In emailed statements, he said Partners for HOME did not do nearly enough to clean up a street with syringes, vehicle fluids and human waste.

The encampment led to rising crime in the neighborhood, including property theft, and break-ins, he said.

“Unlawful encampments are not a victimless issue,” he wrote. “The financial stability of the area is dynamically impacted and felt through higher insurance premiums.”

When asked if his group had any legal authority or any formal agreement with the city to police encampments, Barcelo said it acts “lawfully, transparently, and in coordination with a network of homeless outreach resources.” He said its authority stems from existing Georgia laws prohibiting street camping.

“Instead of asking why the city allowed an unlawful encampment to fester in a prominent, historic Black neighborhood, you’re questioning the authority of the effort to address its own problems,” Barcelo wrote.

In a statement on its website, SAFE tried to pin part of the blame for the Jan. 16 incident at Old Wheat Street on Taylor himself, alleging he engaged in “a pattern of reckless behavior that put himself and others in constant danger,” made threats to social workers, and tried to set fire to a temporary restroom.

Dickens said at the editorial board meeting he felt “terrible” about Taylor’s death and said it had raised a lot of “critical questions,” including how to search a tent when it’s not clear anyone is inside or is hiding “deep in the back recesses.” The city was considering its options, including equipping officials with infrared technology, so they can tell if someone is still in a tent.

It is important to protect the health and safety of crews and workers at a camp, he added, who don’t know what dangers might lie in wait if they open tents to look inside.

“We’ve got to have certain rules of engagement,” Dickens said.

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