(Click here, if you are unable to view this photo gallery or video on your mobile device.)

Commuters rushed along freeway overpasses to the Google and Apple and Facebook campuses of Silicon Valley on Monday morning, while 50 feet below a dozen California Highway Patrol officers politely called into the makeshift dwellings at the latest, swelling homeless encampment in San Jose:

“Hello? Good morning,” they said. “You have to move.”

Tent by tent, tarp by tarp, the homeless encampment dubbed “Googleville” came down in the early morning hours, sending about 70 people along a procession of possessions up an embankment and on to the streets in search of their next place to settle.

Monday’s eviction was the largest in a string of recent homeless encampment sweeps in the capital of Silicon Valley. Caltrans, which owns the acreage at the massive interchange of Highway 101 and Interstates, 280 and 680 near Story Road in San Jose, oversaw the operation. About a dozen homeless advocates showed up and, in a jab at tech companies whose success has helped spawn a crippling housing crisis, called the encampment “Googleville.”

“This is an international disgrace,” said protest organizer Sandy Perry, president of the nonprofit Affordable Housing Network of Santa Clara County. “As tech companies get richer, richer and richer, the people here are getting poorer, poorer and poorer.”

The homeless encampment under the freeways was about a third the size of “The Jungle,” San Jose’s notorious encampment that was believed to be the nation’s largest before it was disbanded by city officials in 2014. Just last week, a news crew from South Korea, which is hosting the winter Olympics this month, shot part of a documentary here highlighting Silicon Valley’s disparities of wealth. San Jose’s streets are home to about 4,350 people on any given night.

“It’s been a dirty little secret. But it’s becoming more and more known that Silicon Valley is not just the hub of technology and innovation, but also the home of some horrible social and economic conditions,” said Scott Wagers, a pastor and homeless advocate who gave the South Koreans a tour of the encampment. He was also on hand Monday morning as the homeless tore down their tents and tarps and packed up their belongings in shopping carts.

Sherry Todd was one of the many pushing their belongings through the holes in the chain link fences and onto Felipe Avenue.

“I don’t want to lose my BBQ. It’s what I cook on,” said Todd, 53, who was rousted at sunrise to start taking down her tent. “I’m exhausted from doing this so quickly. You don’t know what you’re doing, where you’re going. It’s depressing.”

CHP officers tried to be polite, she said, but most of them wore blue medical gloves, a signal that they didn’t want to get too close.

“I feel like we’re being scolded, like we’ve done something bad and we haven’t,” she said. “This is our life. These are our belongings. This is what we have.”

Some of the people here had little more than a sleeping bag and a bike. But many had built compounds, four-sided shacks and fences made of scrap plywood, soccer canopies, and tarps.

Daisy Gonzales, 39, built hers in a gully, just 20 yards from the Story Road exit ramp from Highway 101.

“This is a real house,” Daisy Gonzales, 39, said. She installed a front door she found discarded at a construction site and kept it bolted with a lock and chain. She stacked her mattress and box springs on top of wooden pallets, so when it rained and water came coursing through, the floor turned to mud, but her bed stayed dry.

Before she left, she placed into her purse a statue of Our Lady of Guadalupe, which she had kept on a shelf next to a pair of potted plants and a box of cold medicine.

“I don’t want to go but I have to,” Gonzales said. “The police told me I have to go now.”

The people living here had known for more than a week that the Caltrans sweep was coming. Homeless agencies had come by, offering services and shelters. But the logistics of abandoning their belongings to spend a night in a shelter didn’t appeal to many of those who lived here.

San Jose has been working for years on plans to solve the housing crisis and alleviate homelessness, from building hundreds of very low-income apartments to constructing tiny homes. Google’s plans to build a sprawling campus on the edge of downtown San Jose has heightened concerns about the tightening housing market.

A group of homeless advocates, working with city, county and state legislative staff, have been discussing ways of creating better short-term, emergency housing strategies, the kind of legal encampments seen in Oakland, which use storage sheds to temporarily house the homeless, or San Francisco, which has erected “Navigation Centers” that allow “partners, pets and possessions” to stay briefly.

In a letter to Caltrans, state legislators, including San Jose native Sen. Jim Beall, wrote in December asking the state agency to help develop a statewide plan to solve the homeless crisis: “Simply evicting the homeless off our properties does not work,” the Dec. 13 letter read.

As the Caltrans sweep was under way, one homeless man called out, “Dumpsters, that’s all we need! Maybe a Porta-potty or two.”

Perry, one of Monday’s protesters, said the acreage under the highway interchange is, in many ways, ideal for a legal encampment. Forcing people to leave here, when they will surely return like they did after the last sweep in August, he said, is a waste of time and money and wholly disruptive to the vulnerable people who lived here.

“What is gained?” he asked. “What is the sense to this?”

Most of the people being forced to leave had little idea where they would stay the night or what they would do with their baskets of belongings.

“Pushing a shopping cart down the street with all your stuff,” Todd said, “it’s humiliating.”