Warming Center occupants share their stories

Apr. 2—With homelessness on the rise in Flathead County, recent discourse in public meetings and letters to the editor have debated the problem's causes and solutions.

In 2020, Kalispell was home to 319 unhoused residents, according to an annual survey conducted by valley nonprofits. During surveys conducted the prior four years, the average was 219. Though no survey was conducted in 2021 owing to the pandemic, organizers expect the results from 2022's outreach effort to be available in the summer months.

Why is homelessness increasing? What resources are available to homeless people? What is still needed? How should the community and government address the issue?

As the community seeks answers, the Flathead Warming Center in Kalispell — the area's only low-barrier overnight homeless shelter — houses 50 people every night through the brutal Montana winter.

The Warming Center has served at least 293 individuals this winter, and has had to turn people away nearly 300 times due to the shelter reaching its maximum capacity, according to statistics published by the nonprofit organization. The center is open October through April.

During an overnight stay at the shelter, interviews conducted by the Daily Inter Lake reveal a wide variety of circumstances and outlooks among the area's homeless population. Many were eager to share their stories. Here are accounts from a few of the people staying at the shelter the night of March 7, 2023, when temperatures dipped to 14 degrees Fahrenheit.

VICKI BROCKISH

Vicki has had a long career as a live-in caregiver, but said her last job (and her housing) disappeared when she blew the whistle on abuse at her last client's home.

She has an adult daughter in Columbia Falls, but doesn't want to ask her for a place to stay.

"I wouldn't stay with them," she said. "This is something I am dealing with. I raised my children to be independent of me and have their own lives."

This is the first time in her over 60 years that she has experienced homelessness, though she is optimistic, because she has an apartment lined up and good job prospects.

She was frustrated at the Flathead County commissioner's letter that said that homeless people are choosing to "live unmoored."

"I don't believe these people want to be homeless," she insisted. "I don't know how the commissioners can say that. If they feel that way they should come here and stay the night."

"I think our society turns a blind eye to whatever people need, and it's sad," she said, comparing homeless people to lepers in the eyes of the community. "They don't want to see it. It's a fact of life, it's happening everywhere."

Vicki has been staying with her dog, Gabby, during her time in the shelter.

"Everybody stops by my bed to say hi to Gabby, and she's good for this place," she said. "[People staying here] need to know that something loves them, and she does."

BING MARTINEZ

Bing has been in Kalispell since July, when he arrived on what he described as a spiritual road trip. He got stuck in the Flathead Valley when his car and wallet were stolen.

He had been hanging out in the Depot Park gazebo every day, and sleeping there most nights, until a bitter December cold snap with temperatures as low as minus 40 made staying outside too dangerous.

Since then, he's been staying in the shelter or motel rooms when he can.

His attention span is short, and he frequently drifts off, closing his eyes and nodding his head. When called, he snaps back to clear conversation. He believes he's mentally ill, though he refuses to seek professional care.

"I've been leaning into being schizophrenic and talking to the air," he said. "I don't trust doctors.They would try to put me on drugs and tell me I'm not on the right path."

He said that being homeless in Kalispell has become increasingly difficult since the city shut down the gazebo.

"We're just pretty much going place to place where you're allowed inside without paying money," he said of his daily routine. "The library is one of the last remaining options. A deli if you have enough money, but that's about it."

Even when he pays for food or coffee at Super 1 Foods grocery store, he says he now gets kicked out after 30 minutes.

He attributes drinking and drug use by homeless people to boredom, and said he'd like to see a recreation center in town with backgammon and pickleball.

He said he's been arrested twice, and has gotten to know Kalispell Police Department officers by name.

"Don't knock it 'til you try it," he said about living on the streets. "Try not doing anything, not having any stress. Give it a shot, I've only been doing it for a year."

CHRISTINA NELSON

Christina has lived in the Kalispell area for all of her 56 years. She was living in Polson and became homeless upon divorcing her cheating husband.

She stayed with her son in a trailer park in Kalispell until his neighbors informed the landlord and got her kicked out. She has been on the streets since October, staying at the shelter five or six nights per week. Once a week she sleeps elsewhere to ensure she maintains eligibility at the shelter.

She has arthritis and leg injuries that leave her unable to work. She is on Medicaid and SNAP benefits, and says she likes making jewelry, sewing and doing other crafty things to keep her hands limber.

Chistina spends her days at the library, the mall, or with her new friend Vicki people-watching in the Walmart parking lot.

She tries to stay under the radar by not appearing visibly homeless. She chooses not to carry a backpack, which she thinks exposes her secret and causes people to "treat her like dirt."

"When people find out that I'm homeless they judge me, that I'm a worthless person," she said. "In the mall, if the security guards find out that you're homeless they'll kick you out and not let you back in."

After reading the county commissioners' letter, she is afraid that they are trying to shut the shelter down.

"Most everybody here is good but we all have our quirks," she said. "Some use alcohol too much, some use drugs too much, but we're all human."

ISAAC ZUNICK

Isaac is 26, and was born and raised in Kalispell. He blames alcoholism for his homelessness, and says that on multiple occasions he has spent too much on booze and didn't have enough left when rent came due.

He's worked at car washes and restaurants, and doesn't want any assistance other than what he gets at the Warming Center.

"I don't really like telling people I'm homeless because it makes them feel sorry for me," he said. "It's frankly embarrassing. I put myself in this predicament and I can take myself out."

He plans on moving to Washington to live with his brother, and hopes in a few years to have a house, a wife and a nice truck.

"What anybody wants, really," he said.

ISAIAH RHODES

Isaiah is also 26 years old, and works in sheetrock installation and moving. He makes nearly $20 an hour doing sheetrock, and can make double that on a good moving job, but says that housing can still be out of reach.

He has been homeless about a month, since he moved out of a house with an alcoholic roommate that he described as a bad situation for his young daughter.

He learned of the Warming Center while looking for options online after motel rooms grew too expensive.

He said if he still had his vehicle he'd be sleeping in it. His starter broke, and by the time he had the money to pay for the repairs, his car had been towed. Now it would cost him much more to get it back.

He thinks people can get off drugs or alcohol if they have a good enough reason.

"I've been a drug addict, I used to be a really bad alcoholic, and I used to smoke weed before it was legal," he said. "After my daughter was born I completely stopped drinking. I just didn't want to not be around for her."

He thinks the area needs rehab centers that are low-cost or free to help people turn their lives around.

"A lot of people are afraid to go into rehab, that they won't be able to pay for it," he said.

He thinks the community needs the shelter, and maybe another like it.

"If this place shuts down, most of these people are going to be screwed because they don't have cars," he said. "They're going to be sleeping on the road. A lot of people are going to be dying."

ERIC LAWSON

Eric is in a mobility scooter after a drug-related aneurysm left him disabled. His face is slumped and he has difficulty speaking clearly.

If he wasn't in the shelter, he said he'd be sleeping in the bushes, propped up in his wheelchair.

During the day he panhandles outside the Lowe's home improvement store in Kalispell, and then loops back to the shelter in the evenings.

He gets $1,779 monthly in disability income, plus what he can get via donations. With that income, he says he can't afford an apartment.

He also needs a roommate who can take care of him, given his disability. He said he was planning on going to a local housing nonprofit to try to get on a rental assistance program.

JANET

Janet is in her 60s and receives Social Security, as well as working four days a week as a cashier. She declined to share her last name.

Her income is over $2,000 every month, but she is stuck on several waiting lists at Kalispell apartment complexes.

She had been living at a motel, with her costs covered by a state emergency rental assistance program for people who lost their jobs due to Covid-19. Then the motel raised their rates in the summer, and the program could no longer afford to pay her rent.

"It costs me more to be on the streets than to be housed," she said. "Hotels are $600 or $700 a week in the winter time. In the summertime, forget about it."

She said she's had difficulty qualifying for certain programs because she has an eviction on her record.

"I've been evicted one time in my whole life," she said. "What about all those years I did pay the rent on time and I wasn't in trouble?"

When she isn't working, she drives around town looking for places to park and not draw attention to herself.

"I have to drive around all day because I have to be out of the shelter," she said. "I park at the mall, then they chase me out. No matter where you park, the cops are telling you to leave. 'Where do I go?' I ask them."

Reporter Adrian Knowler can be reached at 758-4407 or aknowler@dailyinterlake.com