The number of older homeless adults, which the Greater Richmond Continuum of Care, Central Virginia’s umbrella organization for homeless services, identifies as those 55 and older, is increasing. While the numbers dropped 16% to 697 people in 2022 (the data comes from the annual “point-in-time” count that takes place in January), much of the decrease can be attributed to increased federal funding for local shelters and emergency housing intended to help prevent the spread of COVID-19. After reaching a 10-year low of 497 people experiencing homelessness in 2019, according to data compiled by Homeward, the number jumped 68% to 834 in 2021. “It’s going to be a very difficult winter,” says Kelly King Horne, executive director of the nonprofit Homeward, which coordinates homeless services in the region. With dwindling housing inventory driving up rents across the region - metro Richmond’s rental vacancy rate stood at 1.9% in the second quarter of this year, the lowest in the state, according to census data - local shelters are struggling to keep up. But now the money is running out, and the last of the eviction moratoriums put in place during the pandemic expired in June. Whittaker outside her apartment building in Church Hill ‘A Very Difficult Winter’Īn infusion of federal funding and emergency eviction moratoriums over the past two years have helped, serving as a temporary stopgap. Coupled with the pandemic, when retail and service jobs dried up and government assistance was harder to access, many older adults who were already living on the margins were literally left out in the cold. The region’s growing senior population, many of whom live month to month on Social Security and fixed incomes that haven’t kept up with inflation, has been hit particularly hard. A lack of affordable housing and growing economic disparity have stretched local resources and safety net programs. It’s just been a struggle.”Īfter a decade of steady progress, Richmond’s homeless population is surging again.
“I’m just hoping and praying somebody picked her up and is taking care of her,” she says, breaking into tears. She still finds herself looking down alleys and around corners when driving to and from work, hoping to find her lost companion. Barbara and James moved into their one-room first-floor apartment in March.Īside from the drug dealing and general mayhem along Burton and Venable streets - a few weeks ago, she and James awakened to the sounds of a man and woman having sex outside her window - she considers herself one of the lucky ones, save for the loss of her pride and joy, Precious. She now works 20-30 hours a week, bringing home just enough to pay rent at the Church Hill House on Burton Street, which offers affordable, subsidized housing for seniors and those with disabilities. Barbara managed to scrounge up $250 to enroll in patient care training, earning her certificate in April to work as an in-home, nonmedical senior caretaker. Distraught, she spent weeks looking for them on the streets, to no avail.Ī life of hard knocks, however, breeds resilience. James “let them go,” Barbara says, but he refused to tell her where. The additional pet fees at the motel were too much. Things got so bad that Barbara, who is also 61, had to give up her loyal black Lab of 10 years, Precious, and her 16-year-old tabby, Kat-Kat.
James, 61, suffers from rheumatoid arthritis and has days when he simply can’t get out of bed, much less work. Sometimes they were able to get emergency help to pay for a motel room, other times they slept in her car.
Alternating between motels and the front seat of their 2003 Lincoln Continental, they lived day to day. A few months later, she and her husband, James, found themselves homeless. But things really started to spiral in February of 2020 when she lost her job as a cook and then, in short order, her apartment in Church Hill. Barbara Barbour Whittaker has managed to navigate a lifetime of job losses, drug addiction, broken families and even the tragic loss of her oldest daughter, Neisha, three years ago.
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