Homelessness, Part 2: Families getting trapped in the cycle

About the series

This four-part series looks at the lives and issues surrounding three populations of the homeless.
Saturday: Homelessness on the rise
Today: Families
Monday: Youth
Tuesday: The chronic homeless

Scott Parnell is not what many people envision when they think of someone who's homeless.

Divorced and raising two daughters, he made a decent living as a landscaper and maintenance worker in Cañon City.

Then the economy tanked. Parnell, 39, got laid off and couldn't find another job. After using up his savings, he and his children were evicted from their rental home, and they became part of the area's fastest-growing homeless population: families.

"People still think of the 55-year-old scraggly bearded guy as the face of the homeless, but we're seeing 18- to 30-year-old kids with kids," said director of programs Lyn Harwell, adding that the average age of a homeless person in the U.S. is 9.

Their numbers are hard to count, but homeless advocates estimate that at least 1,600 parents and their children in the Pikes Peak region don't have a permanent residence. Like Parnell, many are headed by hardworking citizens slapped down by a bad economy.

At the Salvation Army, a lot of new clients are families that were part of the middle class.

At Springs Rescue Mission, one of the main agencies serving homeless families in Colorado Springs, there's been a 16 percent increase since July in people seeking assistance.

The line to get free food, clothing, spiritual guidance and household items - such as TVs, furniture and dishes - starts forming at the rescue mission's center on Las Vegas Street at 8 a.m. for a 1 p.m. giveaway each Wednesday.

But officials with agencies that help the homeless wonder whether they'll be able to keep up with the demand. Their budgets are funded primarily through donations, and the economy is hammering donors, too.

Didn't see it coming
Parnell had never been homeless and never thought he would be. But after losing his home, he packed the car and came to Colorado Springs with his daughters in November hoping to find work. No luck.

They lived for a few weeks in their car before Parnell found a family to temporarily shelter his 17-year-old daughter, while he and his 12-year-old daughter began staying at the New Hope Center, the primary homeless shelter in Colorado Springs.

"It's been tough. I try to let my kids know everything will be all right," he said. "I just hope that's the case."

The Salvation Army's New Hope Center isn't an ideal place for families, but it's where many sleep when they have few alternatives. It can hold up to 250 men, women and children each night, and in December it was housing about 180 daily, said Gene Morris, shelter director.

The shelter, though, is not a program, said Maj. Don Gilger, El Paso County coordinator for the Salvation Army. Anyone can stay there for 14 days without talking to a case worker.

After that, a case worker will work with people to get them into a self-sufficiency program. Between the shelter and its housing units, the Salvation Army accommodates about 450 people every night, Gilger said.

"What all the agencies are trying to do is move people from homelessness to being self-sufficient. That's our goal," he said.

Agencies work hard to get homeless families into a program that paves the way for housing, employment, education, child care and basic living needs, said James Dixon, manager of community outreach for the Marian House Soup Kitchen.

"If I see someone with children living in a tent or car, we do everything we can to get them housing," he said. "But we don't have enough low-income housing in this city."

Some families move on. Others live on the streets, usually in encampments away from those with single men, Harwell said.

"There are families with little babies and small kids," said a homeless man who goes by the name of Truck and lives in a tent along a creek in central Colorado Springs.

Strain felt all over
Local agencies try hard to keep needy families from reaching the point of becoming homeless. Catholic Charities, for example, supplements overdue rent and utilities payments to residents in danger of losing their residences and donates supplies such as vehicles, gas vouchers and mattresses.

But the mission is getting harder.

"We're seeing more and more people needing help. They're not a paycheck away from homelessness; they're literally an hour away," Dixon said.

One couple, Jacob Hair and Brandy Thomas, live on that edge. They met at a homeless shelter, then scraped enough together to have stayed for the past four months at a motel on South Nevada Avenue with Brandy's 5-month-old son.

Hair makes a living as a day laborer when he can find the work, but they're behind in their payments to the motel and fear they'll be evicted and have to return to the shelter.

And as the economy places more families in jeopardy, Jason Christensen, executive director of Catholic Charities, worries whether the organization will have the resources to keep up with the increasing demand for assistance. Its annual budget of $2.5 million in cash and $2.8 million in goods and services is being taxed.

"Ninety-five percent of our food is donated, and we went from using 70 pounds of meat a day last year to 120 pounds this year," he said.

School District 11 also is experiencing the fallout of more families turning to the streets.

The district, the one most affected in area by homelessness, has seen a 12 percent increase in students identified as homeless this school year, said Holly Brilliant, Title 1 director and homeless liaison.

In raw numbers, that's 450 students who are entitled under federal law to free school meals, school supplies, tutoring and, if needed, uniforms.

"It's unusual to have this many homeless kids. We jumped by 50 in August, and the number has stayed steady," Brilliant said.

One day at a time
As Parnell was looking for work from his base camp at the Salvation Army shelter, a homeless woman was looking for her missing son from her base in a tent encampment near downtown.

Michelle Mead is a subset of the homeless family: a person left destitute after a divorce.

Typically, that person is a woman - homeless advocates say divorce is a major cause of homelessness for women and families, as is domestic violence.

Mead came to Colorado Springs from another state after she said her ex-husband took off to Denver with her son.

For several months, she's been part of the homeless camp with about 20 other people.

"It's a lot of work being homeless, trying to find candles and heat," she said on a recent chilly afternoon while sitting around a dead campfire with several men who share the space tucked in between trees and railroad tracks.

Mead has found a few menial jobs in Colorado Springs, but nothing that paid enough to live on. Now, she's unemployed.

"You can't go look for a job with a backpack with everything you own on you," she said. "And you have to walk everywhere."

What Mead misses most is not having enough money to do laundry or buy a bus ticket to get around. And the line for the shower at agencies such as Ecumenical Social Ministries is often long, she said.

As for Parnell, he was keeping an optimistic attitude that the situation would improve for him and his two daughters.

He and his youngest daughter were eating regularly at the Marian House Soup Kitchen. Both children are enrolled in school here, and Parnell applied to a vocational training program to learn new job skills.

"My 12-year-old doesn't like the shelter and wishes she still had a home," he said. "I've met a lot of other families in the same boat."
Every day, he wakes up and tells himself life will get better.
"You've got to do that," he said. "You've got to be strong for your children and not let them see the worry."


Contact the writer: 636-0235 or debbie.kelley@gazette.com