Neighbors Keep in mind Murder Sufferer as Gruff however Sort Handyman

A wild look didn’t stop the neighbors on the streets from seeing Eddie “Tennessee” Tate as a helpful, hardworking neighbor. Tate was one of two people who lived in. were killed a shootout Sunday evening on 16th and Shotwell Streets. He was 51 years old.

Tate had lived on the city streets for decades and, according to his friends, was known for his compassion and big heart. They described him as a quick speaker with a Mediterranean urge, a country boy with an urban twist. He had large front teeth with a gap in the middle and was riding around on a tiny motorized bicycle.

“He’s always been working on things,” said Alex Richardson, the so-called mayor of the warehouse on 16th Street, where nearly a dozen tents and boxes have been set up for about six months. “He was a hard worker.”

He fixed things – bicycles, flashlights – and helped people build little wooden box houses and other street stalls.

Tate’s own box stood out from the mix. It was covered with wallpaper printed like a brick wall, a kind of Cubist collage.

Another street neighbor, Ana, said she should get help from Tate on Sunday evening to build a box like his. Instead, she said, she cried herself to sleep and then woke up when someone asked her if the news of his death was true.

“[He was a] Knight in shining armor riding around on a little bike, ”said Ana. “It’s scary to think that there is someone out there who is so heartless that he could kill someone with such a big heart.”

Tate’s ‘brick’ box was gone Monday morning. All that remained was blood stains and some leftover mess.

A sheet of plywood leaned against a fence had Tate’s nickname “Tennessee” on it. Under his name someone had written “5150” – abbreviation for an involuntary psychiatry and also a reference to the chaos of street life.

Eddie “Tennessee” Tate was murdered at his home in the tent camp on 16th and Shotwell Streets. All that’s left is a sheet of plywood in memory, blood stains, and clutter.
Photo by Brian Rinker

“He was like the Duke. Like John Wayne, ”said a neighbor, Markael Raybon, who is called Kaels.

Wesley, an older, pale-faced man with strands of yellow hair who lives in a tent around the corner on Harrison Street, said he had known Tate since the 1980s.

Wesley once saw Tate fight nine guys in a 25-minute brawl. It started at the salad bar in Carl’s Jr in the Civic Center and ended at the General Assistance office on 9th and Mission Streets. Tate won, Wesley said.

“He said what he meant and did what he said,” said Wesley. “And he had no qualms about punching you in the ass if you didn’t believe him.”

ET, a blonde-haired woman with blue fingernails who lived in a tent one block from Tate, said he was a good man who was always ready to listen and offer emotional support.

“He made it look like everything was fine even if it wasn’t,” said ET. “He was like a brother of mine.”

Down on Harrison Street near Dandelion Chocolate, Jim remembered the time Tate gave him a sleeping bag after Jim lost everything in a city prank. “He would give you the shirt off his back.”

Like most of the tented homeless people, Tate had problems of his own with the city.

He was one of hundreds of people camping on Division Street when the city tried to evacuate that camp in February. Back then, he hoped to stay in place for as long as possible to keep his belongings.

“I don’t want to replace that,” he said Mission Local then, pointing to his plywood shelter with a generator attached.

He had only moved to Division Street when he was forced from his previous seat on Harrison Street and Fourth Street. “They told us to come here for the Super Bowl. They told me to move six times in four days. “

Just weeks before his death, Tate rolled his box off a sidewalk near Public Works to the corner of Shotwell.

Rigo Trejo took his place on the corner of Harrison Street. Trejo said he saw Tate the day before he was murdered. Trejo and a friend were hanging out when Tate pulled up on his motorized bike. “My friend asked him if he had an engine on the bike and Tennessee said ‘yup’ and flew away.”