Fewer homeless people are getting hit and killed by drivers, but risks remain

Kayla Houston was still living outside a few years ago when she heard that a Volvo station wagon had jumped a curb near San Diego City College and plowed into an encampment.

Seven people were injured in that 2021 crash. Three others were killed, including a man Houston knew. She began looking for places farther away from roads to pitch her tent. But after finding one isolated plot near downtown San Diego, Houston, 35, said police soon informed her that she was trespassing.

“It’s just a catch-22,” Houston said Friday.

Tents near highway on- and off-ramps have become increasingly easy to spot in recent months, including in the city of San Diego, where a camping ban triggered a partial exodus from downtown sidewalks, and many officials believe more money needs to be spent clearing those sites. “I’m focusing on the street part” of homelessness “because this is the most visible and traumatic and deadly expression of the crisis,” state Sen. Catherine Blakespear, a Democrat from Encinitas, said at a public forum.

The risks are real — although the picture is somewhat improving.

Since 2012, more than 350 homeless people have died after being hit by vehicles, according to data from the San Diego County medical examiner’s office. There have been incidents involving vans, SUVs, pickups, a semi and a garbage truck. In January, a 65-year-old woman sleeping in a San Ysidro parking lot was pinned down by a Honda sedan.

The total number of vehicle deaths rose steadily for years, even during periods when the homeless population overall was decreasing, such as 2017 through early 2020. Forty-six people died in 2022, the highest tally in more than a decade.

“Vehicle versus pedestrian collisions are always serious concerns,” said San Diego Fire-Rescue Deputy Chief Robert Allen.

More recent years have been less dire. While the fire department doesn’t track the housing status of patients, officials aren’t seeing a surge in cars hitting people in general. Nor has the medical staff at UC San Diego Health flagged an increase in collision injuries among the homeless population, according to system spokesperson Michelle Brubaker.

Deaths, too, have ticked down. Thirty-three individuals were hit and killed in 2023, records show. Last year, there were 30.

The reasons for the drop are not entirely clear, although some metrics show both the county’s homeless population and homeless deaths overall to be similarly decreasing.

The modest decline in fatal collisions is happening despite an apparent rise in highway encampments. Anti-camping ordinances passed by multiple cities in recent years led many individuals to move onto that state-managed land, where local police generally have less jurisdiction. However, the city of San Diego has cut a deal with the California Department of Transportation to clear some of those areas.

A city spokesperson said 51 sites have already been cleaned and 16 people were connected to shelter. Several state leaders, including Blakespear, want municipalities around California to adopt similar agreements with Caltrans.

Houston, the formerly homeless woman who’s now part of the Father Joe’s Villages Street Health Team, remains worried about those sleeping near roads. “If somebody were to fall, they could easily fall down the hill from the encampments and into oncoming traffic,” she noted. Just in the past few weeks, Houston encountered a man who’d been hit by a vehicle while bicycling away from a campsite.

At the same time, she’s concerned additional sweeps may push people into more isolated and perhaps riskier locations, particularly since there is nowhere near enough shelter for everybody asking.

In May, the housing commission reported that around 94% of all requests for a bed in the city failed, largely because facilities are full. Officials are working to expand that capacity. But most shelter requests remain unsuccessful month after month, leaving many homeless residents with few options.

First responders can be caught in the same bind. On a weekday morning a few months ago, two San Diego police officers began chatting with a man outside the Central Library. The man said he was interested in shelter, and a cop began taking down his information. It wasn’t clear if a bed was open. Yet they’d at least try.

During the conversation, the man, seemingly unprompted, lifted up his shirt to show off a wound on his back and side.

“Oh, wow,” said Allie Cimmarrusti, one of the officers. “How long ago did you get hit by a car?”

The man said it was a while back. A hit-and-run.