Tent city raises issues about use of public park

As darkness falls, O’Brien and his girlfriend, Earlene French, prepare for bed in a new encampment in Flagstaff Park staked out by the homeless, who huddle under tents while the bright lights of vehicles swirl around them.

“This is where we want to be,’’ O’Brien said.

Recently, the camp, located at a park at the junction of Garden Street and Massachusetts Avenue, has been a source of intrigue among passersby and on YouTube, where videos proclaim a new tent city rising at Harvard’s front doors.

The camp has also placed Cambridge authorities in a quandary as they wrestle with the legality of removing harmless homeless people from public land and with the question of what to do with O’Brien, a longtime Harvard Square fixture who has wrangled with them on other issues.

“Everybody knows he’s there, but nobody knows what to do with him,’’ said Officer Eric Helberg, who conducts homeless outreach for the Police Department. “It’s technically a public park and open to public use, but how far that goes - that is the question.’’

Cambridge, known for its prestigious institutions and intellectual flavor, also has a growing reputation as a haven for the homeless.

The Cambridge area has seen its homeless population increase by 33 percent, from 487 in 2008 to 651 in 2009, officials say.

Panhandlers flock to high-traffic areas in Central and Harvard squares. Others, including those weary of shelters, have been pitching tents in the woods, behind buildings, and in public parks in a struggle for autonomy.

“Sadly, they are out there all year round,’’ said Meghan Goughan, a Cambridge homeless advocate.

Jim Greene, who directs Boston’s Emergency Shelter Commission, said such encampments are common in the Boston and Cambridge areas.

Greene said the camps raise a larger issue about how to move homeless people off the streets and into homes they can afford.

“If you can survive and keep it together by staying in such a setting, I think you have a fighting chance of staying in housing,’’ Greene said. “You just need a pathway to get there and some support.’’

The homeless are also finding the Cambridge Common very attractive, especially at night when it is not heavily traveled, Helberg said. But residents began complaining, and over the summer police cleared a band of homeless people who were sleeping there.

So far, however, authorities have left O’Brien and his friends alone.

“We don’t do the Common, because the Common is a drinking crowd, and we don’t do that here,’’ O’Brien said.

O’Brien, 56, has been on the streets for 35 years. He met French, known as Frenchie, five years ago when he was panhandling in the square. She eventually joined him on the streets, and the two formed a family with their dog, Penny, who was rescued from a puppy mill, and their cat, Charlie, who was found on the busy streets of Harvard Square.

They run Almost Banned, a sidewalk book table that the city shut down earlier this year. But O’Brien reopened the Harvard Square business soon after, hoisting a brightly colored sign on a pole daring authorities to close it again.

The book table, where books sell for $2 each, is their lifeline.

When they lost their apartment in February, they camped under the table in Harvard Square for a few months until they decided to pitch a tent around the bend at the quiet Flagstaff Park.

“The city called this an underutilized facility,’’ O’Brien said, with a chuckle, referring to the park, which has a Revolutionary War monument.

“And we are utilizing it,’’ said French.

Last Friday afternoon, the two manned their book table, sitting on folding chairs, greeting a stream of visitors, accepting donated books, and making sales.

About 10:30 that night, O’Brien and French were in their tent relaxing under a cool breeze over coffee, cigarettes, and conversation. Inside their tent were two chairs, two tables, and a new sleeping bag to shield them from the cold.

Two other tents were set up nearby. There were also four blue and green tarps covering belongings. Their owners, O’Brien said, were edged out of the Common.

Depending on the night, three to four people O’Brien has helped over the years join them in the camp. By midmorning, they are all gone, except on the rainy days when they sleep in.

O’Brien said he is saving to buy a van next year and doesn’t plan to move just yet.

“If they come to move me,’’ he said, flashing a mischievous smile, “I’ll tell them, ‘Arrest me.’ ’’

Meghan E. Irons can be reached at mirons@globe.com.