Elderly, alone and without a home

Jul. 30—A walk through Haywood's homeless shelter would be surprising to many who may consider its residents to be unemployed, without an income and without hope.

That's not the case at Haywood Pathways Center, for many reasons, but most recently because it has become a safe haven for the elderly who are displaced, as rentals in Haywood are converted to Airbnbs or their rental homes are sold at prices those on a fixed income could never afford.

Here are a few of the stories of the elderly men and women who are grateful the Pathways Center exists.

Roommates

Kathryn McDonald, 75, and Doyce James, 62, had been pooling their resources to rent a basement apartment in a home in the Fines Creek area.

When the house sold, they could find no place to rent for the $800 they were able to pay. Both have been at Haywood Pathways Center since April and will likely stay there until they can find another place to live.

James, who made a living working in the coal yards, now has memory problems and a hard time walking. He said he doesn't mind the other people he's around, but he isn't a big fan of the rules.

There are fixed meal times, for instance, and television viewing is only available until 8:30 in the mornings, and sets must be turned off by 10 p.m.

For McDonald, it's a different story.

"The rules don't bother me," she said. "At least I've got a place to live."

For a while she was helping out cleaning, which she said she didn't mind at all, and noted the food is "pretty good."

For other needs, luckily Haywood Public Transit stops at the center and goes to Walmart, so she said she's all set.

Dropped off like a dog

Mary Fromm, 61, and her roommate, Cheryl Robson, 69, were sharing an apartment in Yakima, Washington, when their rental was sold. Her sister-in-law, who lives in Canton, couldn't see them being homeless in the Northwest so encouraged them to come live in Haywood where they could stay with family.

The duo, who each worked as a certified nursing assistant in their younger years, packed their belongings, sold larger items and bought a bus ticket to North Carolina.

The living arrangement in Canton lasted for just two months.

That was when Fromm said her brother gave them 30 minutes to pack everything before dropping them off at the shelter.

"Just like you'd drop a dog off at the pound," Fromm said, still reeling from the way she was treated.

Fromm spends her free time at Haywood Pathways Center making purses and other bags from old jeans or crocheting. She is working to have enough to sell at a flea market.

Because of her disability issues, Fromm gets a bottom bunk in the women's dorm. She has trouble sleeping at night, so ends up walking around to counteract the neuropathy in her legs, something she strives to do without waking up others.

Robson enjoys reading and said she appreciates all the help provided to people who were once chemically dependent and are staying clean.

"It's hard to say what would happen to them without this place," she said.

While some at the center can sometimes be a bit trying, Robson said she's a patient person and simply lets a lot of things slide.

"People are very friendly, and the staff is very helpful," Robson said.

Her big challenge for now is establishing her identify so she can begin receiving her Social Security checks again. Before leaving Washington, her purse was stolen, along with her important documents.

Keri Guidry, assistant manager at Haywood Pathways Center is working with Robson to cut through the red tape and establish that she is alive and living elsewhere.

"They probably sent her letters, but without a forwarding address, they were just returned," Guidry said.

It is a long process to start over, get a birth certificate and recreate a document path, one Robson finds a bit baffling.

"According to the government, I don't exist," Robson said, "but I'm here. I'm alive."

Robson and Fromm say they could afford a place up to $800 a month once Robson's identity issue is sorted out, but for now they are making the best of where they are.

"I've made a lot of wonderful friends here," said Fromm. "I'm thankful for a place to stay."

Lost job

Stacey Zona, 53, moved into the Haywood Pathways Center in July. Before that she had both an apartment and a job.

An illness that led to her losing her job, and leaving her apartment that was so infested with bedbugs that it was unlivable, brought her to Haywood Pathways Center.

She said she left 95% of her belongings in the apartment because of the bedbugs deep inside, and is "trusting God to do what he's going to do."

Zona has several nursing-related licenses and is hoping to be hired at nearby Autumn Care where she could walk to work and save money for another place of her own.

Though she had been at the shelter less than a week, Zona knew life would be easier if she could "stay out of the drama," and she does just that.

Moving on

Carrie Sue Horn, 57, lived in a trailer with her two cats, one dog and a hamster, until the bug infestation became so bad she had to move.

She receives a Social Security disability payment and can work up to 20 hours a week, but can't find a place to rent that's affordable.

"This is a good place and has become like a second home," she said. "The staff is amazing and they are helping a lot of men, women and children."

Horn is one of the lucky ones who has been accepted for an income-based apartment at Brookmont Lofts, the former county hospital where 60 rentals are being made available. She is moving in soon.

Camping out

Carla Dean and her 16-year-old son were living outdoors in a park where there was no restroom or running water before they found a place in the family dorm at Haywood Pathways Center.

Dean moved out of her apartment because of safety issues and thought she planned carefully for how to live without a home. She didn't know space would be limited in a shelter or that she and her son couldn't remain together.

That's when the only option seemed to be camping. That was working out OK, but it meant her son was no longer able to attend school, and their living situation attracted the attention of child protective services before they landed at the Pathways Center, Dean said.

"It's a godsend to us," she said of the family dorm. "We need to get him enrolled in school, and he's wanting a part-time job and to play football if he's eligible. We've got to see about his credits and then find housing."

Dean was living on a budget of $841 a month and struggles with health issues linked to domestic violence. She takes a lot of medication for fibromyalgia, diabetes and the pain associated with her broken shoulder and arm after the attack.

"I don't know how to say what this center means to me without crying," she said. "It's been everything to me. I'm able to be with my son and I have hope again. I had just given up before."