The sheriff would arrive in a few hours to escort her from the premises, said the frantic sounding woman on the telephone. The woman, who lived in public housing on South First Street, had not paid rent in more than four months. Even though a close friend was willing to put up more than a thousand dollars for the back rent, it was too late. With only hours remaining before she, her family and their belongings would be out on the street, the single mother was out of options and on the phone with one of the few voices she thought could help.
The new face of homelessness
Newly elected City Councilor Holly Edwards has heard a lot of stories like this one during her time in Charlottesville. She is the program coordinator for the Public Housing Association of Residents, a non-profit group that helps low-income residents find affordable housing, and a parish nurse at the Westhaven Nursing Clinic, a primary care facility for indigent local families. Edwards, who told a few personal stories Sunday about the affordable housing crisis in Charlottesville before members of the Unitarian Universalist Thomas Jefferson Memorial Church, called the woman in her first story the "new face of homelessness."
After being removed from public housing, the woman took up residence with family in Greene County. While Edwards praised the generosity of the nearby relatives, she acknowledged this was only a temporary fix to a complex problem. According to Edwards, this problem only came into focus after piecing together the exact sequence of events that led to the single mother's eviction.
A flurry of health problems befell the woman and her family. In addition to paying for her own diabetes medication, the mother also covered her aunt's expensive prescription medications and drove back and forth to take care of her ailing parents who lived in a neighboring county.
Given an extension on her rent from September and October, the woman moved her parents into her house to cut down on the high cost of travel. With the pressure of Thanksgiving and Christmas on the horizon, her own health declined, and she was put in hospice care at the University Hospital.
"The Housing Authority says I've got to go," she said to Edwards from a hospital bed, adding that her mother was very sick and only had a few days to live. "Do you think they'll let me stay until she passes?"
According to Edwards, the phone rang during her visit with the woman in the hospital. It was the Housing Authority. The eviction would proceed as planned, and the locks on the woman's door would be changed. There was nothing that could be done to save her apartment.
"Once you loose your place in public housing, the people who rely on friends and family as a temporary fix become the new face of homelessness," Edwards said. "The truth is public housing is the only affordable housing we have in this city."
Taking a risk or creating opportunity?
Much like pieces of the story about the homeless single mother, Edwards shared another account of a group of close friends who still lived in the same home in which their families once lived together.
Though the practice of extended families living together has become less common, according to Edwards this communal housing still represents a definable piece of black culture.
"Black folks have always doubled up," Edwards said. "In my house, my father lives with us, and he's been living there since our mother passed away. My older daughters think it's odd when their friends don't have an old man who lives in their house."
The childhood home shared by the families in Edwards' second story, however, was no longer home to parents. Both had died, but the rest of the family remained together. That is, until a bolt of lightning tore their house apart.
The families were housed by the Red Cross for a few days until they were allowed to return to the home. They, however, could not stay. During their time away, the landlord did not make repairs to the building, and it was considered unsuitable by the city. Out on the street again, the family turned to Edwards.
"They had done all of their homework," Edwards said, adding that she met the family when time was running out. "But even the combined income of a [Social Security] check, a disability check and a full-time job at Harris Teeter didn't total what would be needed for a house they could rent."
Even an apartment in Westhaven, the city's largest public housing site, was out of the question for the family. Edwards and many other local organizers had done all they could do for the family, but they could not make up for the family's bad credit, which hindered them from being able to sign multiple leases.
Ultimately, for all of Edwards' resources, it was a personal connection that saved the family from homelessness. A local landlord who had a home he was unable to rent took a chance on the family's bad credit. According to Edwards, the family still resides at the residence.
"There must be other landlords who are willing to take a risk," Edwards said, adding that only small steps like this can help turn the tide of homelessness in Charlottesville. "Is it really taking a risk or creating new opportunities?"
"Thank God, my brother is alive"
Edwards receives many phone calls from concerned low-income residents at the Westhaven Nursing Clinic, but she especially remembered the voice of yet another young woman.
"Me and my boyfriend got the notice saying that we have to move," the woman said to Edwards. "I'm down at City Hall, but somebody gave me this number and told me to call the clinic. I'm five months pregnant with twin boys, and I need a place to stay."
Though the two presented themselves as a couple to Edwards, she treated their cases separately. The man, involved in a drug treatment program, appeared determined to stay clean for his future children. Along the way, however, he ran into some legal trouble and was in jail for three months. During this time, the rent wasn't paid, and the couple was soon to be evicted.
While the man was in prison, however, Edwards was informed by Region Ten, a local program that provides mental health services, that the woman was not pregnant with twins. Edwards said she was unsure whether the woman had lied or if she believed her pregnancy was real. She was later diagnosed with a mental illness and still refuses treatment. After breaking the news to the boyfriend, Edwards asked the man if he had any family with which he was connected.
"Often for people that travel that journey to jail and with addictions, there are bridges that have been burned," Edwards said.
The man had a sister in Pennsylvania with whom he had not spoken in years. After receiving permission from the gentleman to reestablish contact with her, Edwards said she did not know what to expect from her next phone call.
"Thank God, my brother is still alive," the sister said to Edwards. "All we know is that he was down in Virginia somewhere."
Her brother has since moved to live with her and is currently enrolled in a church-run drug treatment program, according to Edwards.
Moving with dignity
Prior to last year's City Council election, Edwards focused a significant amount of her campaign on the issue of affordable housing. This is an issue, she says, to which the city must pay more attention. Many of her supporters, including some at the recent lecture, say they believe she will bring this issue the action it demands.
"Holly Edwards brings to our City Council a lifetime of experience with issues that have a powerful impact on the lives of human beings everyday," said Rev. David Takahashi Morris of Thomas Jefferson Memorial Church. "In bringing that voice to Council, she enriches us all."
Though many in the audience at the lecture had suggestions for both Edwards and Council, at least one local resident praised the amount of assistance available in Charlottesville.
"I don't remember ever knowing about so many things in place to help people," said new Charlottesville resident Susanne Russell of her previous home in Maryland. "I've always felt, since I got here, happy to be in a place where there are so many people willing to help other people."
Edwards' campaign against homelessness focuses on, what she calls, moving low-income residents with "dignity." In the cases of the three stories she shared, all of the people who sought the help of the Westhaven Nursing Clinic were moved from residence to residence with the help of a team of volunteers. Trucks were rented and storage facilities were procured at no cost to those in need. This is an important part of overcoming the personal adversity of a housing crisis, according to Edwards.
"Even if you don't have a lot of things, always maintain your pride," Edwards said. "When the basketball team loses the game, wait until you get to the locker room until they see you cry. The players in the housing game who leave need to hold their heads up too."
Out of sight, out of mind?
According to one Westhaven resident, the problem of homelessness in Charlottesville is unique because individuals without a place to go often are not seen wandering the streets. If the face of homelessness were more public, then the issue would be discussed more, according to Joy Johnson, outreach coordinator at the Westhaven Nursing Clinic and public housing resident.
"When you have families who know their friends or family members are homeless, they take them in, whether legally or illegally," Johnson said. "They're not spilling out into the streets. It's out of sight, out of mind, but homelessness is a big issue."
For all her years of public service and public outreach events like the one at the Thomas Jefferson Memorial Church, Edwards still hears from many city residents who do not understand her advocacy campaign.
"I'm amazed at the number of people who really don't believe that there's a problem with poverty in Charlottesville," Edwards said. "There are people who really believe that."
For Edwards and those at the Westhaven Nursing Clinic, their work continues as long as people approach them for help.