Those who crossed paths with Allison Sparrow in the months leading up to her death near a homeless camp at 16th and Harrison streets on December 18 only knew her briefly, but all felt that they had found a rare friend who, however fleetingly, brought warmth and laughter into their lives.
“Her heart was big, that’s what drew me to her,” said a woman who goes by the name Shy, who lives in the camp where the 33-year-old Sparrow and her partner had been living in the months leading up to her death.
Shy said she had gotten to know Sparrow closely over the year that Sparrow lived in the encampment. She recalled how Sparrow would handcraft necklaces, earrings and keychains, which she sold at a local flea market near 15th and Julian streets each weekend.
“That was her hustle, and it was something that was positive for her,” she said. “That girl made me laugh, and she had an eye for beautiful things.”
A week before Christmas, police responded to a call at 6:30 a.m. to 16th and Harrison streets, where Sparrow was found unresponsive in her tent. She was transported to San Francisco General Hospital where she later died, according to reports from the San Francisco Police Department.
With an outstanding autopsy report and pending homicide investigation, police did not comment on the specific circumstances of Sparrow’s death. Sparrow’s relatives say they have been told that she may have been the victim of a random drive-by shooting.
Sparrow was born Allison Michelle Deming in West Columbia, SC, on October 24, 1982. The daughter of a history teacher and pastor, a close family friend said that the family is “much loved by all who know them.”
“To all of us, Allison is not a nameless crime victim but an amazing person, the light of many lives,” said the family friend. A funeral service was held for Sparrow on Saturday in Palm Springs, Fla., where she spent most of her childhood with her family.
After learning about her death, a small group of Sparrow’s friends in San Francisco held a memorial for her at Dolores Park in the Mission, one of Sparrow’s favorite places to spend time.
After receiving degrees in studio art and art history from Indiana University in Bloomington, Ind., Sparrow moved to San Francisco in 2008 with her second husband. In the city, Sparrow came into her own as an artist, and extensively explored her talents in music, drawing, jewelry making, and sewing.
Those who witnessed her creative evolution said that Sparrow best expressed herself with her hands.
“She was constantly crocheting – little animals and toys. She carried around a crochet kit in a backpack full of stuff, and could never find anything,” remembered Jorja Culbreath, who befriended Sparrow in 2009.
In his eulogy, Sparrow’s younger brother, Andrew Deming, called his sister “beautifully imperfect.” The siblings shared a close bond, and he remembered his sister as empathetic and full of love — which she readily shared with those around her.
“She had a purse that was like a magic hat full of unending surprises, and she always had an assortment of snacks in it for any occasion,” wrote Deming. “She was someone who understood people and connected, she listened when I talked, she cared about what I said, she gave me her time and full focus, her love and attention.”
The self-taught seamstress developed her own line of clothing, which she sold on Etsy, an online platform for buying and selling handmade and vintage items, and in small shops throughout the city, including at Needles and Pens on Valencia street. Friends remember how she diligently sold her creations at local craft fairs.
“Allison was always looking for that thing that she was supposed to excel in,” said Greer McGettrick, who formed a band with Sparrow roughly six years ago.
Sparrow’s deep love for music was shared by her boyfriend, a guitarist, who became her partner in the last years of her life. The couple would often play music together.
Sparrow’s friends described their relationship as “close,” but also said that it had distanced her from them.
“She loved him so very much, and I have to respect that,” said Culbreath.
The last two years of Sparrow’s life were marked by significant struggles, including that she began living on the streets.
“It became really hard over the years, watching the trajectory of her life. As a result of that we weren’t close, but there was a time when we were,” said a former co-worker at Mendel’s, a fabric store on Haight street where Sparrow worked from 2008 to 2014 . “She really was a good, sweet, and well-intentioned human being.”
Sparrow and her boyfriend are believed to have become homeless in early 2015.
“Even at the end, when we were totally confused as to why she was in the place she was in, she was always so positive even though she was clearly struggling,” said Rachel Gant, the girlfriend of Sparrow’s brother. “She would just open herself up completely to the people she cared about, always putting them first.”
Matthew Klingensmith, Sparrow’s ex-husband, wrote in a tribute to her: “I’ll never know the entirety of what she faced, and who she was, and who she impacted … Allison was a phenomenon in the lives of people around her.”
That included many of the homeless people that met Sparrow at that late stage of her life and who, after getting to know her, said that a life on the streets was not hers.
“She was very cool. She was the average white girl wearing glasses – she did not belong here,” said a woman named Tamara who had met Sparrow in the encampment, and was visibly touched by her death.
In one of her last messages to Culbreath, Sparrow shared her desire to “get better” and, using her photography background, wanted to establish an exhibit for the homeless community.
“Her heart was the most beautiful thing about her,” said Shy, the woman from the encampment. “We all have families. Maybe not here, but somewhere. With Allison, it was clear that she was somebody to a lot of people.”
Sparrow’s imagination often came to life in her humor. A former co-worker remembered her as the “master of the long running inside joke.”
“[Her jokes were] so involved, they cannot be succinctly described,” said the woman. “For years, we invented adventures for her alter ego, “Tall Kitty,” a series of hypothetical B-movie westerns where, no matter what, Tall Kitty rode off into the sunset.”
Culbreath said laughter played an important role in their friendship as well.
“We had a deal that we needed to make it to 80 years old, but then realistically lowered it to 70. It would be all Mai Tais and chain smoking from there – and we would do whatever the fuck we wanted,” said Culbreath. “All we did was laugh. We were complete goofballs together.”
Culbreath added that the Mission District was Sparrow’s stomping ground.
“Together, we covered every inch of the Mission,” she said, remembering Sparrow’s frequent trips to Mission fabric stores, local bars and venues. “She loved it here, and I cannot believe that this is where she died.”
Because she was homeless at the time of her death, some of Sparrow’s close friends fear that her case will not be considered a priority for law enforcement officials.
Klingensmith pointed to the police and media’s often apathetic stance on homelessness.
“This cannot be who we are as a city,” said Klingensmith. “She deserves better than that, and she and her family deserve for the person responsible for her death to see justice.”
Police are calling on the public’s help to provide information about the homicide. This can be done anonymously by calling 415-575-4444, or by texting a tip to TIP411 and beginning the text with SFPD. For those who do not have access to a cellphone, a tip may be submitted in person at the Mission Police Station at 630 Valencia St., on the corner of 17th Street.