Steve F. and the wisdom of the streets
By David A. Sylvester
AN ENCOUNTER | February 20, 2020
It's early morning in the heart of Oakland's Skid Row, and Steve F. is coming toward us, me and Artie G., from across the street, bouncing from leg to leg, waving at us with one hand and balancing a styrofoam plate with a few pancakes in the other hand, grinning his maniac drug grin.