North Carolina Coalition to End Homelessness

Group works weekly to help the hungry

Mon, 05 Jan 2009 14:15:00 GMT

By RUTH SHEEHAN
The News & Observer of Raleigh

Posted: Dec. 27, 2008

RALEIGH, N.C. — The three nondescript cars pulled into a parking lot across from Moore Square. Before the teenagers inside clicked open their seatbelts, dozens of homeless men and women scurried over.

By the time the high school and college students opened their doors, they were completely surrounded, causing the teenagers to beam.

This is what they come for. Every single Sunday for the last three years, this small group of young adult volunteers, along with N.C. State adviser Anita Flick, has served bag lunches to a growing group of homeless people. Rain, shine, no matter.

"You hear so much about young people who are abscesses on our culture," said Kay Fish, whose son helps with the project regularly. "There are so many who quietly do so much for others. And this group is just so devoted. They never miss a week."

The News & Observer of Raleigh reported that now as a registered charity called Imagine No Hunger, this lunch-bag blitz for the homeless began when most of the kids were students at Athens High. Liz Willette, a former Athens student, got it off the ground. But after Willette graduated and headed to Appalachian State University, Doug Wegman and Anita Flick's daughter Alyse took over.

In January, they moved the entire operation to N.C. State, where Wegman is a freshman, and Alyse Flick has been taking classes while finishing high school.

Their other faithful helpers include Matt Hunt, Andrew Owens, Daniel Fish and 14-year-old Austin Flick.

Most of the students come under Anita Flick's wing because they are "pre-health" majors at N.C. State - hoping to pursue careers in medicine or dentistry.

But in many ways, what they have learned in their weekly sojourns to Moore Square puts organic chemistry to shame.

"There's one old guy with real thick glasses who's a crazy Cowboys fan like me and mom," said Alyse Flick. "He always comes to find us and ask us whether we're watching the game that day. That's the kind of thing that keeps us coming back."

With food donated by other students in Flick's health advising group, they create a whirlwind assembly line every Sunday, shortly after noon. In less than an hour, they assemble 150 baloney and cheese sandwiches, rounding out the bag lunches with a couple of pieces of fresh fruit, granola bars, chips, and a drink.

"We know how to crank it!" shouts Anita Flick, slapping baloney on a grid of bread slices.

Flick and her daughter also visit local Panera Bread stores on Sunday nights to pick up leftover sweet rolls, cookies and other breads and treats for the following Sunday's bag lunches.

A couple of local churches also assist, especially during the summer and over holidays when donations are slow and volunteers are traveling.

To date, Imagine No Hunger hasn't missed a week.

"Obviously, they know us," Wegman said drily as wave after wave of homeless people shuffled across the street on a recent Sunday. On that day, the teens were also handing out donated coats, hats, scarves and gloves.

Some business owners have mixed feelings about the ministries for the homeless in Moore Square, where the Salvation Army also provides hot meals.

"The business owners I've talked to are very supportive," said David Diaz, president of the Downtown Raleigh Alliance. "At the same time, there are potential problems. We want to be advocates for long-term solutions."

For now, the Alliance has members of its cleaning crew swing through Moore Square on Monday mornings to collect debris.

The Imagine No Hunger team spends far less time getting its fare to the homeless.

On a recent Sunday, more than 100 bag lunches disappeared in three minutes flat.

5-Jan-09 9:15 AM

Volunteer turnout far exceeds expectations

Mon, 05 Jan 2009 14:00:00 GMT

By Fred Clasen-Kelly
frkelly@charlotteobserver.com
Posted: Saturday, Jan. 03, 2009

Tom Duncan took the day off work, but faced a menacing job: Clean and paint a vacant apartment infested with cockroaches and covered in dust.

Duncan was among roughly 200 volunteers Friday helping convert an idle 12-story uptown building into a temporary homeless shelter.

“We will do what we can,” he said after pointing to food the former tenant left in the refrigerator.

Volunteers spent hours repairing, painting and cleaning to prepare the Hall House for homeless women and their children. They will continue working from 9 a.m. to 2 p.m. today.

Social agencies are trying to reduce a shortage of homeless shelter beds in Charlotte. More than 5,000 people in Charlotte-Mecklenburg are homeless on a given night, but there are less than 2,000 shelter beds.

Officials were overwhelmed Friday by the public response to their pleas for volunteers. Three times as many people showed up as they expected.

The Charlotte Housing Authority, which owns the building on North Tryon Street, and other social agencies, raised more than $720,000 to re-open the former public housing apartments. Organizers plan to move in 20 families Monday, and add 20 per week until they reach 100.

Families would stay until June, when they would move into their own permanent homes. Those who remain homeless would move into other shelters.

A line to sign up to volunteer stretched across the lobby to the entry. After one hour, organizers started running out of cleaning and painting supplies.

“I am surprised how many people gave up the day after New Year's Day,” said Connie Echols, a volunteer for A Child's Place, which assists homeless children and raise money for the temporary shelter. “It's not great work. It's yucky.”

Hall House had sat empty for about a year.

Housing Authority leaders relocated nearly 200 elderly and disabled tenants last year and announced their intention to sell the building to raise money. A prospective buyer offered $15 million for the property, but the deal fell through, Echols said.

On Friday, the building's condition stood in stark contrast to its past. It opened as Hotel Barringer in 1940 and featured penthouses and a Swiss chef.

Now, mattresses, donated pillows and televisions lined the kitchen and a dining area with 20-foot high ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows.

Some of the 600-square-foot apartment units contained flooring blackened with dirt or walls covered with dust and spider webs.

Some volunteers said they couldn't paint because the walls were too dirty.

Duncan, the volunteer, and his 16-year-old son Nick came to help after he read about the effort in the newspaper.

They were sweeping when Tom Duncan pointed out what he feared were roach droppings on the kitchen counter.

“This is where we ought to be,” he said. “Otherwise, we would just be watching football.”

Dana Baker painted an apartment with her teenage daughter Lexie and niece Eva Ebert. They live in Davidson, but decided to come after Dana Baker said she heard from an acquaintance about Charlotte's problems with homelessness.

“We can't give financially, so we decided to give our time,” she said.

Ebert, 16, stopped her painting to reflect momentarily.

“I am grateful so many people still care,” she said.

5-Jan-09 9:00 AM

Economy threatens cities' fights vs. homelessness

Mon, 05 Jan 2009 14:00:00 GMT

By DIONNE WALKER
Associated Press Writer

Posted: Dec. 29, 2008

ATLANTA — Beneath the glowing red curlicues of the Coca-Cola headquarters sign, case worker Hylda Jackson bargains with one of Atlanta's left behind.

"Are you ready, right now, this morning?" she says, kneeling beside a white-bearded man.

Harry Byrd's rumpled form is enveloped by the odor of stale beer, even before dawn.

"To do what?" he drawls.

"To go to a place to live. Are you ready right now?" Jackson presses.

A yes would land Byrd in his own apartment, surrounded by people ready to smooth his life's kinks. No, and he'll remain among the 750,000 homeless sprinkled across the nation's streets and shelters each night.

He stirs, but doesn't get up. Jackson moves on. She has other sidewalks to cover, other parks to check, other bridges to pause beneath. This tug-of-war is bound to increase as the economy pushes more people into homelessness.

In Atlanta and other top destinations for the homeless, a sense of urgency has settled over the efforts of advocates such as Jackson.

The recession is catching many of the nation's largest cities in the middle of pioneering 10-year plans to drastically reduce the number of chronically homeless, city by city, by sweeping parks and alleys for men and women and channeling them into apartments with built-in case workers.

Weary Wall Street donors have grown reluctant to open their pocketbooks to charity, and budget cuts have choked state support. By the time those dollars start flowing again, cities could be looking at starting from scratch.

Rampant foreclosures, meanwhile, mean more Americans without a house, pressuring agencies with new cases as they struggle to reach the long-term homeless that so dramatically drain resources.

"This is the start of tough times," says Protip Biswas, executive director of United Way Atlanta's Regional Commission on Homelessness, a coalition of partner groups that includes Jackson, who works in the city's Gateway Center shelter. Biswas is asking his own case workers to nearly double their load.

The economy is hitting all sectors hard. When your goal is eroding a phenomenon directly linked to poverty, however, a crisis this deep delivers an extra gut punch.

"We're sort of holding our breath," says Steve Berg, with the National Alliance to End Homelessness, a leader in forming the anti-homelessness plans.

"Despite the good work a lot of these communities have done with their 10-year plans, we're probably going to have a time when there's more pressure on homelessness."

Five years ago, Philip Mangano, executive director of the United States Interagency Council on Homelessness, got fed up with homeless numbers that had risen for decades.

"How many homeless people (there were), where they came from, how long they stayed homeless, what were the initiatives that actually worked to reduce homelessness - we didn't know," Mangano says. "We were groping in the dark."

So he urged 100 mayors in 2003 to formulate plans to end homelessness within a decade. They would focus on the chronic homeless, defined as those with a disabling condition experiencing long-term or multiple instances of homelessness and who, activists say, suck up half of available resources.

Leaders would measure progress through benchmarks of people staying off the streets, rather than shelter beds filled. Regions began adopting a strategy placing homeless into their own apartments, then offering help, rather than vice versa.

Immediate housing calms some of the most troubled clients, according to the National Alliance, and double-digit drops in homelessness reported in Chicago, Denver, New York and Norfolk, Va., among other cities, seem to back them up.

"We have some remarkable accomplishments here," says New York Homeless Services Commissioner Robert Hess, pointing to a 25 percent reduction in street homeless since 2005.

Mangano says more than 50,000 units of housing targeting the homeless have been created over the past five years; the goal is 150,000 units by 2014.

Atlanta's 5-year-old program is considered one of the most successful - it's created 1,600 units of supportive housing for the chronically homeless. Of 750 people recently tracked through the program, 90 percent remained housed after a year.

In turn, chronic homelessness is down 16 percent in the metro area, the United Way reports.

About once a month at the Coca Cola park, a bus idles along the sidewalk, ready to carry all the down-and-out men and women whom volunteers like Jackson can round up. They'll go to Leonard House, a complex of modest apartments where groups share bedrooms, kitchens and a new start.

More case workers will work on their deeper issues, reuniting clients with family members, connecting them with drug treatment or helping obtain disability benefits. The most responsive participants can eventually earn a one-bedroom apartment, and organizers say some are on their own within a year.

Atlanta secured more than $50 million in federal funds earmarked for homeless efforts within the past five years.

"Atlanta has been doing a good job - that's why the resources have been increasing," Mangano says.

At United Way, however, Biswas worries about how precarious that progress is considering how quickly the money could run out. The organization spends about $10,000 a year supporting each person in its shelter-to-home programs, using a combination of federal, state and private funding.

United Way Atlanta has roughly $9 million in reserve funds to fund operational expenses, grants and the "Street to Home" program, projected to serve more than 250 people at a cost of nearly $4 million during the next two years.

State funds are often used to hire case managers, and private funds fill in the gaps. Both sources are on the decline: The state recently cut $300,000 allocated for case managers, and while community donations have helped sustain the program beyond its seed fund, the group also is bracing for cuts there.

"Right now we have a challenge grant where one donor has offered us a half-million dollars, provided we can do a one-to-one match," Biswas says. "But the normal foundations are telling us they won't have that much to give."

The bottom line isn't on Jackson's mind as she tramps across the grass of a small park in downtown Atlanta, determined to get people off the streets.

Byrd, the homeless man Jackson has approached, doesn't know or trust the nosy woman with the clipboard. He takes her number scribbled on a tattered slip of paper and promises to call.

This morning, he isn't ready to go home.

5-Jan-09 9:00 AM

One family truly thankful for the roof over their heads

Mon, 01 Dec 2008 17:15:00 GMT

BRUNSWICK COUNTY | After living in a camper doomed for the dump, Tina Mattoon is thankful she doesn’t have to sleep next to the toilet anymore.

That’s because on Tuesday, she moved into a three-bedroom mobile home with her four daughters. Even with no food, this Thanksgiving will be one to remember. And now, she can choose from two bathrooms. With doors.

“I’m happy to be in a home,” said Mattoon, who became homeless when her roommate kicked her and her children out. “I don’t have anything for Thanksgiving, but I have a house. That’s all that matters.”

Mattoon, a former waitress-turned-Bojangles’ worker, is part of a growing number of people losing their homes because of the slumping economy.

Last year, 67 families were homeless in Brunswick County, said Joe Cannon, executive director of Brunswick Family Assistance Agency, a figure he said represents about 20 percent of the county’s homeless population. He expects that number to climb when a new count is completed in January.

“I haven’t seen it this bad since the early ‘80s,” said Cannon, who has worked with non-profits for about 40 years. “We are seeing more and more people in crisis.”

Cannon said his agency averages five calls a day from people being evicted, or whose homes are in foreclosure. People are losing jobs or work hours. To get by, many are living in overcrowded homes or “couch surfing” – staying briefly with different relatives, he said.

Mattoon ended up in a camper in Calabash because she was kicked out of another mobile home where she and her daughters squeezed together under one roof with seven other people.

She tried to stay with her mom and dad, who live in a recreational vehicle parked at a camp site on the banks of a river full of marsh grass, but it was too crowded with her daughters.

Mattoon was forced to separate her family. Her three teen-agers ended up living with Mattoon’s estranged husband nearby and she took her 9-year-old, Christina, to the camper on that same site.

“I’m ready to get out of here,” she said, adding she was thankful to the owner for letting her live there before he hauled it to the dump.

On Tuesday, Mattoon waved her arms in the air as she moved out. She reveled in the fact that she would soon stretch her arms without touching the ceiling. She thought about how she would have privacy when she used the bathroom; how she would have heat; and most importantly, how she would be reunited with her oldest daughters, 15-year-old Tinesha; 14-year-old Deedee; and 13-year-old Alisha.

“We’ll be thankful to be together and that’s all that matters,” Mattoon said. “That’s probably going to be the best Thanksgiving because we’ve been separated for about a month.”

Her daughters have felt the monthlong separation.

“I miss her a lot,” Deedee said. “I’m used to being with her like every day.”

Mattoon also had Mary McNeely, with Southeastern United Care, to thank for the home. The company helps people with problems ranging from substance abuse to losing their homes. Mattoon was grateful to the mobile home owner, too. Bennie Ward not only had three sofas waiting inside the mobile home in Supply, but he gave them old mattresses he’d rescued while renovating the mobile home park. Oh, and he waived the first week’s rent.

McNeely found Mattoon and her daughters the home after looking all over Brunswick County for rental signs and money for a rental deposit.

“The first time I looked at it I was shocked so I had to go back and look at it again,” Mattoon said about her new home. “Nobody can kick me out of that.”

Mattoon’s father, David Bass, said her daughter had never been apart from her children.

“I’m glad she’s getting her kids back,” he said Tuesday, sitting outside her camper while she moved. “It breaks her heart her kids are not together.”

Later, Mattoon’s excitement was tempered by the typical problems of moving in to a new place. Within a few hours of leaving her old life behind, one of the toilets in her new home overflowed, teens fought over mattresses and complained about stinky purses. Suddenly, mom became mom again.

“Eeww. They stink,” said Deedee as the girls inspected a pile of purses sealed in a clear plastic bag. She crinkled her nose and patted her forehead.

“Just air them out,” her mother said, dumping them on the floor.

“This one smells like butt,” said another daughter, Alisha, dangling one by the strap.

Nothing like being home for the holiday.

1-Dec-08 12:15 PM

Summary Report of Evaluation Findings A Dollars and Sense Strategy to Reducing Frequent Use of Hospital Services

Mon, 01 Dec 2008 15:00:00 GMT

Read the full article here.

1-Dec-08 10:00 AM

Here Now: Project gives hope to people struggling

noemail@ncceh.org — Tue, 25 Nov 2008 13:00:00 GMT

Noel Edwards was homeless and staying at Good Shepherd Center when Sharron Cain found her. Shameeka Winfield was struggling with the effects of having a criminal record, the result of a mistake she made years ago.

Both will graduate Friday from the fall classes of Project Uplift Career Pathways Academy, a training program for adults of low to moderate incomes. It’s operated by the Countywide Community Development Corp., which serves Brunswick, New Hanover, Pender and Columbus counties.

Both have landed good jobs, Edwards at AME Zion Housing Development Corp. and Winfield at Family Perspectives LLC.

They are among about 30 graduates of Project Uplift classes. One morning last week, Edwards and Winfield were in the office administration class at the Hillcrest Recreation Center off Dawson Street.

About 15 women were working at computer terminals under the tutelage of Carmenitha Berry, an instructor at Cape Fear Community College. They learn about programs such as Excel and PowerPoint, how to send e-mails, book travel tours and other skills. They also learn workplace skills such as creating resumes, handling job interviews and dressing appropriately for work.

The office administration class is a pilot program of CFCC’s, said Sabrina Malloy, Countywide CDC’s program director. She credited CFCC for its cooperation in creating the Project Uplift classes.

A few blocks north, 14 men listened attentively in the skilled trades class as Jerry Burns, another instructor from CFCC, talked about how to wire a house attic.

Most of the men in that class were convicted felons, Cain whispered as the men questioned Burns about where the light fixture should go.

The skilled trades class, housed in the Northside Community Resource Center near 10th and Fanning streets, teaches skills in light construction, electrical work, plumbing, and heating and air conditioning. Masonry skills may be added next year.

Participants in both classes receive financial literacy training, learning how to pay bills and balance checkbooks.

Cain moves about the community seeking qualified applicants for Project Uplift. Every applicant is carefully screened.

She found Edwards, 26, when she visited Good Shepherd. Staffers pointed her out.

“They said, we have a lady in her 20s. She’s not married, she’s not on drugs, but she’s here,” Cain recalled.

Edwards graduated from Laney High School in 2000 and took some classes from Miller-Motte College. After she lost her job in customer service with a grocery store chain, she couldn’t find another.

“I looked for jobs, but with the economy like it is,” she said, then shrugged. “I ended up in a shelter.

“But I have a job now,” she finished happily.

Winfield, 20, is also a Laney grad, Class of 2006. When she was working for a big-box store, she said, she looked the other way while acquaintances were shoplifting. She was convicted of a felony.

“A lot of people make mistakes,” she said. “It’s real stressful. It can stop me from going to school. It can stop me from getting a job.”

But thanks to Project Uplift, she now has a job and the office skills to keep it.

Cain works hard to find employment opportunities, although she can’t guarantee participants a job. Sometimes they work unpaid internships, hoping to prove themselves and land a paying position.

Many of the participants have criminal convictions, Cain said.

“I tell employers there is a background,” Cain said. And to Project Uplift graduates, “I tell them to be open and honest in the interview.”

Project Uplift has formed partnerships with groups in addition to CFCC such as Leading Into New Communities, which helps released convicts, and the Northside Community Resource Center.

For Cain, it’s all about overcoming barriers to employment such as homelessness or a criminal conviction.

She’s looking for employers willing to give people a chance, she said.

For more information about the program, call Countywide CDC at 383-1724.

25-Nov-08 8:00 AM

Homeless veterans get more housing

Mon, 17 Nov 2008 14:00:00 GMT

By Martha Quillin
martha.quillinnewsobserver.com
Posted: Saturday, Nov. 15, 2008

DURHAM - An apartment complex expected to open next month will almost quadruple the number of beds for veterans at risk of homelessness in this city, and housing experts say it's not nearly enough.

The nonprofit Volunteers of America built the 24-unit Maple Court apartments in Durham because a disproportionate number of the Triangle's 500 or more homeless veterans live there. Bob Williamson, who runs the health care program for homeless vets at the Veterans Administration Hospital in Durham, said vets are drawn to the area because of the VA and other veterans services, and the hope of jobs.

For years, however, those who couldn't find or keep jobs have ended up sleeping in shelters, parks, abandoned buildings and under bridges.

The VA has long recognized homelessness as a problem among veterans; a third of homeless men are veterans.

In the Triangle, there is no emergency shelter dedicated to the needs of vets, who may have post-traumatic stress disorder or other issues that make shelter life particularly difficult.

Though the VA doesn't fund emergency shelter for vets, it has had a program since the 1990s to help nonprofits build and run transitional housing for veterans. Intended to stop the cycle of homelessness, these can house veterans for up to two years while they are enrolled in recovery and job-training programs.

But progress is slow. Maple Court has been eight years in the making. Durham's TROSA, Triangle Residential Options for Substance Abusers, has 25 beds for homeless vets expected to come online in December. Another program has nine beds for homeless vets, including those who are HIV-positive.

Across the state, there are fewer than 300 beds in VA-supported housing for homeless vets.

“We need more,” Williamson said. But in the meantime, “We want to show veterans they are not forgotten.”

Floyd Hall was one of the first to apply for a spot in Maple Court. Hall, who served in the Army from 1976 to 1982, has been staying at the Urban Ministries Center emergency shelter in Durham for two weeks.

“This is not where I saw myself ending up,” he said.

Hall, 49, says sleeping in a room with 70 or 80 other men is a severe test for him. Hall says his PTSD causes him to be extremely anxious in open spaces and among groups of more than three or four people.

“I want to be able to make my own way,” he said. “I'm pretty sure there are some homeless people who want to be homeless, but I'm not one of them.”

Hall lived on his own for years. Most recently, he had been in Kill Devil Hills, supported primarily by a monthly Social Security disability check and working part time when he was able. Then, in February, the checks stopped coming.

Hall is still trying to find out why — he thinks he may have exceeded his income limit by as little as $100 for the year — but while he tries to get that resolved, his Medicaid coverage ended with his disabled status. He lived on savings for as long as he could, but eventually could not pay his rent. He couldn't go to the doctor for his back and other health problems. And with his PTSD and other issues, he couldn't get, or keep, a full-time job.

He pulled out his camping gear, put the rest of his belongings in rented storage, and hitched rides to Greenville, a town he knew from having attended East Carolina University for a while. He found an unoccupied church where a side door stayed unlocked, and slept there sometimes. Finally, he called the VA and asked for help.

“They told me that to enter into their homeless program, I'd have to move to Durham and stay in the homeless shelter,” he said.

Deborah Lee, the VA's regional homeless coordinator, said sometimes that's the best advice the agency can offer.

To qualify for a bed in supported transitional housing, a vet has to meet the federal definition of “homeless.” One way is to be in a shelter.

Since he's been in Durham, Hall has signed up for the first PTSD counseling sessions he's ever had. His service in Central America left him with such a vivid recollection of the scent of death that he can't stand certain sweet smells. He's scoured the Internet looking for work he can do.

Wednesday, he went to a veterans job fair, wearing socks and a shirt borrowed from another shelter resident and a coat and tie from the shelter's clothing closet.

He's waiting to hear whether he'll be accepted into Maple Court. Workers are busy with finishing touches at the complex this week, such as installing a donated flag pole outside what will be a veterans services building. Rebecca Dixon, chaplain for Volunteers of America, said she hopes to get enough donations of new dishes and cookware to outfit each resident's kitchen.

The housing alone would be a great gift, Hall said.

“We as vets – we protected while you slept,” Hall said. “We deserve some compensation for that. We're not greedy. We just want a little help. I don't think we're asking for too much.

”By training alone, we're strong individuals. But there's a point you reach where hopelessness sets in. And to be honest, I'm pretty much there.“

17-Nov-08 9:00 AM

Finding Hope

Mon, 17 Nov 2008 13:45:00 GMT

By PAUL CLARK

Asheville Citizen-Times

Posted: Nov. 15, 2008

ASHEVILLE, N.C. — Travis Robinson was headed for the streets when he heard about the Veterans Restoration Quarters. It may have saved his life, he believes. For months, he'd been having nightmares about his time in Iraq. Enemy fire and bombings were constant for the 37th Engineer Battalion as it set up support in hostile territory for soldiers coming from the rear.

At home at his parents' house in Rutherford County, he'd wake up with a shotgun beside him. He was drinking, heavily. Because of it, his parents gave him a timetable for getting out of the house. He sought treatment at the Charles George VA Medical Center in Asheville, where he learned about the Veterans' Restoration Quarters, an old Super 8 motel on Tunnel Road that Asheville-Buncombe Community Christian Ministry had made into housing for homeless vets.

In June, unable to find a job at home, days from having to leave his parents' home, he applied. The Asheville Citizen-Times reported that homeless veterans are a local problem, not just a national one. During one 24-hour period in January, volunteers at shelters and elsewhere counted 121 homeless vets in Buncombe County, according to housing program workers at the VA medical center.

Nationwide, current population estimates suggest that about 154,000 veterans (male and female) are homeless on any given night, and perhaps twice as many experience homelessness at some point during the course of a year, according to the U.S. Department of Veteran Affairs. Right now, the number of homeless male and female Vietnam-era veterans is greater than the number of service persons who died in the war.

A year ago, Asheville-Buncombe Community Christian Ministry was awarded a $1.6 million grant from the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs to provide 100 new beds for homeless vets in Buncombe County. Already running a 70-bed shelter for vets on Coxe Avenue in downtown Asheville, it used the money, as well as $1 million Federal Home Loan Bank grant, to leverage a $3.6 million bank loan for the Super 8 motel and its 10 acres. The quarters, which opened in May, allows veterans with honorable or general discharges to stay for up to two years. Room and board are free; residents are offered classes to help them find work and live on their own.

The center is currently full - 200 men, from every war and conflict since Vietnam, ranging in age from 25 to 65, director Michael Reich said. Each week, two to four of them move out, and others move in. Last week, 55 men were listed as waiting to get in. At least once a week, Hillary Logan Bolter, a clinical social worker at the VA medical center in Asheville, visits homeless shelters looking for veterans who might benefit from the program she coordinates. She distributes Housing and Urban Development vouchers for rent assistance, only for veterans.

Bolter has screened about 30 people since beginning in July (and given out eight vouchers). Many have been in pretty low places, she said. Divorce, becoming disabled, estrangement from family - the same things that can lay anybody low can have a crippling effect on someone whose life has been heavily regimented for years. Especially if they've seen action.

Robinson, 27, was in a vehicle in Iraq in 2002 when it hit an improvised explosive device, wounding him in the hip. Thunderstorms back at his parents' house would bring the explosion back to life. When lightning hit, he'd ride the storms out in the hall. Willie Baskerville, 56, knows the feeling. A platoon sergeant in Vietnam, charged with freeing prisoners being held by the Vietcong, he launched a missile into a village one day and discovered the people he killed were actually women and children.

"I had a hard time getting over that," Baskerville said. He started drinking and using drugs, but still, "when I woke up in the morning, the first thing I'd see was that round going down range" into the village, he said. His behavior made him homeless, for a long time. In Asheville, he slept on church steps, in shelters when it was cold and in woods behind Mission Hospitals when it wasn't. "There was no life," he said of his own.

Baskerville credits the Veterans Restoration Quarters with helping him stay sober. The center has a "three-strikes" policy, and Baskerville said he doesn't have any against him. He's got a stereo, some clothes and work doing odd jobs for people. Like Baskerville, Robinson shares his small room with a roommate. Two double beds take up most of the floor space, as they do in most budget motels. The bathroom is in the back. Robinson's room has a small fridge, a microwave and a desk where Robinson studies toward a degree in nursing. Asheville-Buncombe Technical Community College is a short scooter ride from his room. He's in class all day. There's no telling what would have happened if he hadn't gotten into the Veterans Restoration Quarters, he said. "I worry about being on the streets because after being in a war zone, the street is pretty similar," he said. "In Iraq, if someone's being hostile, you shoot them. You've got permission to, I guess. You don't have permission here."

17-Nov-08 8:45 AM

Campaign to end 2-year insurance gap for disabled

Mon, 17 Nov 2008 13:00:00 GMT

By RICARDO ALONSO-ZALDIVAR

Associated Press Writer

Posted: Nov. 12, 2008

WASHINGTON — Congress and the Obama administration should end the two-year wait that people deemed too sick to work by the government face before qualifying for Medicare, lawmakers and leading advocacy groups said Wednesday.

Medicare covers people 65 and older and the disabled, and at any time, 1.5 million disabled people find themselves waiting to qualify. About 40 percent are uninsured during part of that wait, while 25 percent are without insurance during the entire 24 months. Of the rest, some get coverage through Medicaid, but many end up depleting their savings on private insurance and medical bills.

Legislation sponsored by Rep. Gene Green, D-Texas, and Sen. Jeff Bingaman, D-N.M., would eliminate the waiting period gradually over 10 years. The proposal also would set up a process so people with life-threatening illnesses could get coverage right away. "Every year, we'd reduce it by a few months, so we get down to a level that's manageable for folks," Green said at a Capitol Hill event.

He and Bingaman are trying to get their plan incorporated in a health reform package expected from President-elect Obama, who co-sponsored a version of their bill last year. But if a health overhaul stalls as it did during the last Democratic administration, Green and Bingaman say they think they might be able to pass their bill anyway. Separately, Sen. Max Baucus, D-Mont., who heads the committee that oversees Medicare, also announced he supports doing away with the waiting period. T

he legislation would solve the kind of predicament that 45-year-old Yvonne Brown of Waldorf, Md., had to face. She had a steady job as an audio engineer for a radio network. But in 2000 she was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, an incurable disease in which the immune system attacks the nerves. She was granted Social Security disability payments in 2003, only to find out that she would have to wait two more years for Medicare. Brown said she sold her house to pay for medical bills, but eventually wound up homeless. She was reduced to sleeping in her car because shelters were concerned that by accepting her, they would become liable for the costs of her treatment. One type of MS medication was costing $2,200 a month.

"It is an irresponsible and demeaning system that declares people disabled, and then forces them to wait two years for health insurance," Brown. Although she now has Medicare - and a home thanks to subsidized housing - Brown said she still owes medical bills. "I am still angry and frustrated for the two years that my life was falling apart," she said.

The waiting period for Medicare benefits was instituted in the 1970s, when coverage was extended to the disabled. Cost is the main reason it has endured. Researchers estimate that eliminating the wait would cost about $9 billion a year, if done in one move. Although about $4 billion would be offset by savings from Medicaid, costs to Medicare would rise. That is why Green and Bingaman are proposing to reduce the wait gradually.

Some academic experts say the government should consider other strategies. For example, it might be cheaper to subsidize employer-sponsored coverage for those disabled people who are eligible for it. More than 75 patient organizations are joining in a campaign to end the waiting period. They include the American Cancer Society, the Alzheimer's Association, the National Association of People with AIDS, the National Multiple Sclerosis Society, and the Medicare Rights Center.

Maryland psychologist Neal Morris, representing the American Psychological Association, said keeping the waiting period may cost more because disabled people without regular coverage get sicker and have bigger problems by the time they qualify for Medicare. "The argument that we cannot afford this is completely bogus, in my opinion," Morris said.

17-Nov-08 8:00 AM

Homeless women organization prepares for a new home

Mon, 17 Nov 2008 13:00:00 GMT

By DEE HENRY

Hickory Daily Record

Posted: Nov. 16 12:03 p.m. Updated: Nov. 16 8:05 p.m.

HICKORY, N.C. — The mosaic decoration on the kitchen wall, made of broken plates, bowls and cups, carries a strong message. "Even broken things can be made beautiful," said Debbie Haynes, executive director of the Safe Harbor Rescue Mission.

The wall was created by former residents of the Ada Geitner Home on Second Street, SE, in Hickory. The Hickory Daily Record reports that the home, built in 1980 to serve as a home for abused and homeless women, will soon be used again for that purpose, as Haynes moves the Safe Harbor Rescue Mission to the house.

The mission has been in the former parsonage for St. Paul's Lutheran Church since it opened as a day center in 2004. Haynes was one of the co-founders. "We started the ministry because we had seen women struggling and were amazed at what their situations were and how limited the resources were, especially if they didn't have children," Haynes said.

The volunteers and clients at the mission are busy with the move and getting the new home ready. The new residence will officially open in January, with space to accommodate six women. Various businesses have donated furniture for common areas and individuals have "adopted" rooms to decorate, Haynes said. But Haynes needs assistance with purchasing two heating units and getting the basement of the Geitner home renovated and ready to house the mission's day-center program, where women can use computers to conduct job searches, attend Bible classes and socialize somewhere comfortable. "We need two," Haynes said. "We had one good one, but someone stole the copper wiring from it."

The day center will continue its operations, where clients can earn points by helping around the center, attending Bible class, and almost anything else they do around the center. Clients can use those points to purchase clothing from the center's "store" or get bus tickets to home, among other things.

Haynes said the new day center also will house a business to be run by the clients, giving them experience in the working world. Currently the mission picks up women at The Salvation Army Shelter and transports them to the day center, run by Anna Wake.

Phyllis and Robin, two such clients who wish to go just by their first names, are quick to praise the center and what it has meant to them. "It's been a blessing. The staff is always loving and caring," Phyllis said. "My favorite thing is Bible study and my spiritual growth has improved since I started coming here." Robin, who had been told about the mission by a woman at The Salvation Army, passed that favor down to Phyllis by telling her about it. "I love it. I've grown a little spiritually,"

Robin said, laughing, "but I just love coming here." Robin now has her own apartment, but continues to come to Safe Harbor a few times a week. Phyllis is close to getting her own place, helped in that effort by the mission's life skills classes, where clients learn job and job search skills, and simply how to better get along with others.

The mission has to be out of the current house by Nov. 15, but St. Paul's is letting them use a room at the church for the day center until January. With the move, the mission will begin offering services along Haynes' original plan - 24-hour residential with educational offerings to get the clients able to support themselves.

"They won't be working for the first six months they're here because these women need to heal. They have battle scars," Haynes said. The center will offer them a "restart," she said, offering help with mental issues and substance abuse, for example. The staff will help the clients with whatever they need - getting into school or getting a job after the initial period. The women can stay at the house for up to a year, allowing them to save money to use as a down payment for their own homes. "We want to help them cope with life and give them resources to start a new life," she said. --- Copyright 2008 by The Associated Press.

17-Nov-08 8:00 AM

Homeless veteran is a nomad no more

Tue, 11 Nov 2008 14:00:00 GMT

By Emmanuel Tambakakis CNN (CNN) --

Until recently, Navy veteran Joe O'Boyle had no home. Joe O'Boyle found a home with the help of Pathways to Housing, a New York-based nonprofit. For 15 years, he was a nomad wandering the streets of his native New York before he got help from Pathways to Housing, a nonprofit organization.

O'Boyle spent two of his homeless years underground, riding the trains of the city's subway system. "I had nothing to do, so I rode the trains. I got to know the whole subway system like the back of my hand," O'Boyle said. "The E train used to end at the World Trade Center. That was the best train to ride in the winter, you know; it didn't go out into the open."

O'Boyle was just one of about 154,000 veterans who call the streets home. Some find help through the Department of Veterans Affairs, which has approved funding for about 15,000 beds this year in transitional housing programs and provides approximately 5,000 veterans each year with residential services in VA hospital-based programs. This leaves up to 134,000 veterans to fend for themselves. Private and nonprofit organizations, including New York-based Pathways to Housing, step in where the VA leaves off.

Psychologist Sam Tsemberis, Pathways' founder and executive director, acknowledges the work the VA does but says nongovernmental organizations are essential to "take up the slack." He estimates that veterans make up 20 percent of his clients, which reflects the national average of homeless veterans to nonveteran homeless.

"People who were mentally ill, living on the streets of the city in an intolerable unbearable condition" prompted Tsemberis to start Pathways. The Pathways to Housing model is called "housing first." The approach makes housing a top priority, even in treating homeless who have psychiatric disabilities and addiction. More traditional organizations require a person to be sober and stable before giving them their own place to live. This usually requires an uphill battle of up to two years of living in a shelter and meeting a number of requirements.

Tsemberis believes that putting his clients in a place of their own is paramount in achieving success with their counseling and stabilization, as is the case with O'Boyle. "You have to separate the treatment needs from the housing needs, which is what we were able to do for him. Give him a place to live so that he can feel safe and secure first, and then he's interested in helping himself with his psychiatric or addiction issues, employment issues. All of the issues follow the security of housing."

Pathways has a branch in Washington as well as a newly opened branch in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Tsemberis says he's been contacted by a number of other organizations, such as Horizon House in Philadelphia and Coalition for the Homeless in Denver, to discuss the successful Pathways model that is helping O'Boyle.

"Joe represents in a way the challenge of, how do we house people? How do we house homeless vets when they have multiple problems? We have to get the sequence right. When the sequence requires treatment sobriety prior to housing, most vets will not, cannot manage that," Tsemberis said.

Tsemberis says veterans' perspectives played a key role in the ideological creation of Pathways to Housing. "They had already served their country, so jumping through hoops was not really something they were willing to put themselves through and would really accept housing on their own terms," he said. "They felt that they had done their part and that someone should help them in the way that they deserved to be helped. And we agreed with that."

Pathways clients typically receive about $20,000 in rent and services which include mental health, addiction, health, employment and peer support. Tsemberis says that figure is half the amount a homeless person usually costs the system. The money comes from federal, state and some city funds, and clients have to meet standard lease obligations, such as paying 30 percent of income toward rent. Rental rates on apartments are fair market, with a studio usually going for about $750 a month.

After he was referred to Pathways, O'Boyle was placed in an apartment in Brooklyn within walking distance of the organization's office. He now believes that after a very dismal past, he has a future to look forward to and is considering writing a book about his experiences on the street. Although currently unemployed and looking for work, O'Boyle says he's never been happier.

"Lately ever since I got my apartment, I feel like I could do anything. Every day is a good day for me. I never felt like this in my life. For the first time in my life, I'm happy," O'Boyle said. As for the future of the homeless and homeless vets, Tsemberis feels that it's a matter of political will and financial commitment. "It's not like we don't know how to do this. We know how to fix this problem. It's just a matter of putting the resources in place to do it."

11-Nov-08 9:00 AM

Lessons Learned at 'Harvard for Losers'

Tue, 11 Nov 2008 13:00:00 GMT

The Delancey Street Foundation takes drug addicts, ex-convicts and the homeless, and trains them for the real world

By Jennifer Wang

Updated 3:00 p.m. ET, Wed., Nov. 5, 2008

Imagine a place where former drug addicts, ex-convicts and the homeless can go to find housing, employment and education. When they leave for the "real world" again, they've learned the skills to become successful attorneys, doctors, and yes, even cops. It may sound like a pipe dream, but its not.

It's called the Delancey Street Foundation, a place founder Mimi Silbert has dubbed the "Harvard for Losers." Silbert, 66, is president, chairman of the board and CEO of Delancey Street, but she earns as much as everyone else in her company: nothing. Everyone who lives at Delancey Street (and Silbert does), receives food, housing, clothing and education at no cost; but all resources are funneled back into the community.

Residents commit to a minimum two-year stay, during which time they work toward a high-school equivalency degree and receive training in three marketable skills. Most opt for a longer stay and complete a four-year program.

Like any pioneering entrepreneur, Silbert succeeded against incredible odds. In 1971, armed with just a $1,000 loan and a strategy for a new rehabilitation model, she took four residents into a small San Francisco apartment owned by ex-felon John Maher. They worked as an extended family, growing as they pooled their salaries and talents. Within two years, Delancey Street had 80 residents, who together purchased a building in Pacific Heights, one of San Francisco's poshest neighborhoods.

Now, Silbert and approximately 500 residents live at Delancey Street's headquarters on the Embarcadero Triangle waterfront. The 400,000-square-foot complex--built by the residents themselves--was completed in 1990 and boasts highly regarded retail, education and recreational facilities. Perhaps even more astounding is the fact that Silbert's organization, which operates five residential facilities in San Francisco, Los Angeles, New York, New Mexico, and North Carolina, employs no staff, charges no fees, and receives no government aid.

The Foundation's operating costs are funded by donations and revenue from its for-profit enterprises, which include a caf and art gallery, a Christmas tree sales and decorating service, a popular screening room, and the successful Delancey Street Restaurant--run entirely by residents. With doctoral degrees in counseling psychology and criminology from the University of California, Berkeley, Silbert doesn't have the typical business background of many entrepreneurs. But with more than 14,000 graduates, Delancey Street is a successful entrepreneurial venture. Silbert's foundation continues to grow, too, having recently acquired a sixth building in Massachusetts, where residents will have the opportunity to develop their talents in the arts.

11-Nov-08 8:00 AM

Spare Change Grants Announced

Mon, 10 Nov 2008 17:00:00 GMT

ASHEVILLE – Spare Change grants announced

The Asheville Downtown Association Foundation recently announced the recipients of grants from funds collected through the Spare Change for Real Change program. Spare Change collection boxes located throughout downtown serve as an alternative to giving to panhandlers.

Many area businesses match funds collected in Spare Change boxes or supplement the program with significant donations.

“Spare Change for Real Change was designed to reduce panhandling and channel funds to the organizations that are helping people get back on their feet,” said Dwight Butner, chair of the foundation.

Receiving grants were: Homeward Bound of Asheville, $5,000 to fight homelessness. Western Carolina Rescue Ministries, $3,000 to provide services for the homeless. The Salvation Army, $2,000 to offer food, shelter, and assistance to the needy.

The Spare Change program also unveiled a colorful new look for downtown's donation boxes, to be implemented in the coming weeks. For more information, visit ashevilledowntown.org.

10-Nov-08 12:00 PM

The Impact of Supportive Housing on Surrounding Neighborhoods: Evidence from New York City

Mon, 10 Nov 2008 14:00:00 GMT

We wanted to pass along the findings from NYU Furman Center on the impact of supportive housing development on neighboring property values. The study examined 123 residences developed in New York City between 1985 and 2003 and attempted to isolate the impact of development on the rate of property value growth. The report found that properties up to two blocks away INCREASED slightly (3-4%) over the norm.

Key findings include:

Over the first five years following construction, the values of properties within two blocks of a supportive housing building rose three to four per cent faster than comparable properties not located near supportive housing.

The majority of buildings in the sample were located in the higher-density boroughs of Manhattan (49%), the Bronx (25%) and Brooklyn (23%). However, neighborhood density did not affect the relationship between residences and property values, indicating that housing developments have the same benign effect in more sparsely populated neighborhoods.

While buildings studied range from less than 10 tenants to more than 400, the study found no link between a residence's size and its effect on nearby property values. This finding runs counter to the common perception that larger residences are more likely to affect real estate values nearby.

Click here for the full pdf article.

10-Nov-08 9:00 AM