“Imagine sitting under a tree all day, every day, in the rain, for months”

The entrance to The Upper Deck homeless shelter in Sechelt, at the back of the building

The Upper Deck homeless shelter in Sechelt is no luxury hotel but it is a safe, warm place to stay

By Margot Grant

Kathy is 47 years old. She has a serious physical disability that makes it difficult to find work. When she fled an abusive relationship, her disability cheques of $1,100 a month weren’t enough for a rental on the Coast and she became homeless.

Although she has joint custody of her two children, financial necessity means they stay with their father in Gibsons. To protect their privacy and hers, The Coast Clarion has agreed not to use her real name or disclose the nature of her disability.

After traumatic experiences in childhood, Kathy does not like to be around men she doesn’t know, so for months, she camped outside, alone. But when it got cold at the end of November, she went to the shelter at St. Hilda’s, even though she had to sleep close to men on mats on the floor.

We met Kathy at The Upper Deck, the new shelter in Sechelt. She is “very, very happy” that it remains open 24 hours a day.

“At St. Hilda’s, you had to leave at 8 a.m. I would go to the aquatic centre to clean up [St. Hilda’s shelter did not have showers], have a cup of coffee, and then I would sit under the trees between the police station and the mall until 3:30, when I started wandering back to the shelter, which opened at 4 p.m.”

She would often come in soaking wet, remembers shelter manager Nick Gaskin. “I never knew why. I’m blown away by this. Imagine sitting under a tree all day, every day, in the cold and the rain, for months?”

Why did she not go to a warm place, like the library? “I don’t know,” she says quietly. “You never know who you run into, I guess.”

Because of her disability, Kathy is an easy prey for people with bad intentions. At The Upper Deck, she stays in the separate women’s quarters with five other women. They have their own bathroom, with a bathtub. She is thrilled to be in a warm, safe place, but hopes for a small apartment of her own. The Upper Deck will pay the landlord a rent subsidy, but it is hard to find a place in Gibsons: there are hardly any vacancies.

Still, Kathy is optimistic. “If I have my own place, my kids can be with me half the time. And I hope to find a job,” she says.

Since The Upper Deck opened on December 21, it has been filled to capacity. Every day, Gaskin, who is manager of homelessness services on the Sunshine Coast for RainCity housing, has had to turn away three to eight people, sometimes even 10.

“The other day, I had to tell five people in two hours that they would have to sleep somewhere else, and they probably ended up in the woods,” he says. “It’s hard.”

On a couple of cold nights, Gaskin put down mats to keep more people warm and dry, but the fire department put a stop to that.

Nobody lives at the shelter permanently, and if you do not show up for two days, your spot is given to someone else. Some people, like David, who’s 64, manage to find a place to live; he arrived on January 4 and is leaving in a few days. With an income of $1,215 a month, he had been living in a furnished room in Gibsons for $825 a month, with a $450 rent subsidy from BC Housing. He and his cat Smokey were happy there, but when the landlord’s son came out of jail and wanted the room, he had to leave.

He lived in the Roberts Creek camp ground for a while, first with friends and then alone. “Just me, a tent and a cat cage. The manager did not mind, we were all well-behaved and did not cause trouble.”

At the end of camping season he ended up at the shelter. Smokey was taken in at Happy Cat Heaven and then went to the SPCA, but David will get her back. Through friends, he managed to rent a 32-foot fifth wheel in Roberts Creek with two slide-outs. The fifth wheel costs $1,000 a month, and with a $450 monthly rent subsidy from BC Housing, David has $665 left to live on, but he’s happy to get a place of his own.

“The guy was looking for a good tenant,” he says. “That’s me.”

Gaskin confirms that he is indeed a good guy. “I can definitely vouch for him. We often give good references to landlords.”

Although it houses 20 people, The Upper Deck is surprisingly small. The kitchen has room for a table with four chairs and the living room can comfortably seat five people on two couches. Bedrooms are small, and shared. Everyone has a bin under the bed, a bag and a locker.

There is a large deck with donated patio furniture and two barbecues. When people go to the deck to smoke, it could be perceived as loitering, so RainCity Housing had a seven-foot wooden fence installed. It also gives the residents privacy and a safe feeling, something Kathy really appreciates.

When RainCity Housing first talked with the business downstairs and others in the neighbourhood about the proposed shelter, some concerns were voiced, so RainCity suggested bright lights and closed-circuit TV on all sides of the building. Ten cameras are being installed, and staff will be able to see who comes up the stairs or is in the parking lot at the back at all times.

“The shelter in Gibsons is temporary, but if Christ the King [Church} wanted cameras, lights, and wireless smoke detectors, BC Housing would probably provide them,” Gaskin says.

There have been no incidents and the businesses seem to have no problem with the shelter. Angelo’s recently donated four large pizzas, and the KRS Apparel Shop gave a number of warm jackets.

Gaskin is impressed with the speed of the renovations: “Spani Development, Olson Electric, Mobius Architecture, Instaglass and Marsh Landscape dropped everything to work on this project. Some crews worked 14 hours a day, and in the pouring rain. It meant more to them than just a job. And they did extra things with no charge, like the electrical outlets to charge cellphones on the deck that Olson Electric put in.”

When Sechelt council passed the necessary rezoning on the evening of December 20, Gaskin went to the shelter at St. Hilda’s, flicked on the lights to wake everybody up, and announced they were moving the next day.

“There was excitement, and there were some tears. People’s faces changed: they had somewhere to go the next day, no more passing the day outside, and it was so great to realize the community cares.”

At 2 a.m. that night, Gaskin and his team were still making beds. “We put towels on the pillows, just like in a hotel. We did not want to give out a pile of bedding and say ‘make your own bed’ like in jail.”

Every hour, two more people came and were shown their room. “You should have seen the look on their faces,” Gaskin says. “It was the absolute highlight of my career. People said things like ‘this is the first time in three years I can sleep in a little bit and have a bed to sleep in,’ or ‘I have been sleeping like a dog for the past few years — dogs sleep on the floor.’”

A number of them said “now I can look for a job” and ‘now I can move forward,’” Gaskin recounts. “And they were so thankful for the showers. Due to bad experiences, one man felt uncomfortable showering in a public place like the aquatic centre and had not had a shower in three months. Frankly, he smelled a bit, but when he arrived, he practically ran to the shower. It was inspiring to see how afterward, he had lost his self-consciousness and interacted with others again.”

People from the community brought warm socks, home-baked cookies and food, McDonald’s sent trays of coffee. “I teared up a few times that day,” Gaskin remembers.

Two homeless people with cancer are staying at the shelter, and Gaskin is trying to help them find a place of their own. On behalf of BC Housing, he can give $450 monthly rent subsidies to landlords for people who do not have a job. “But there are no vacancies. Where are they going to go?”

Although 20  people sleep at the shelter, other homeless people are welcome from 9-12 a.m., 2-5 p.m. and 7-9 p.m. to shower, use the phone, watch TV, keep warm. The shelter tries to refer them for help if needed.

Food is still a problem; the shelter currently has no storage for food, but in a month, when storage space has been created, donations of fridges and freezers will be welcome.

The shelter has no commercial kitchen and is not allowed to cook. Carmen’s Cuisine has been contracted to bring ready-made meals for 20 people Monday through Friday, and members of the community bring meals on weekends. The sign-up list is full until the end of February. During the week, shelter staff make sandwiches for homeless drop-ins.

BC Housing has a program to pay homeless people $12 an hour for work such as litter pick-up in the community.  Because this does not lead to a job or a marketable skill, Spani Development and a local painting and decorating firm have offered to let people work for BC Housing’s $12 hourly rate for a trial period. If they do well, they will get a paid job.

A number of people at the shelter work fulltime already. A couple with dogs who stayed at the shelter at St. Hilda’s has since moved to Calgary where both have found jobs, rented an apartment and are doing well.

“The main problem is the lack of affordable housing,” Gaskin says. “It is out of control.”

One comment

  1. Standing outside for a smoke might be “perceived as loitering”, eh? People get so upset at the idea that folks with nowhere else to be don’t just crawl into a hole and die. Once, in the late ’80’s or early ’90’s, some men on a work project used to wait outside the Bank of Montreal in Lower Gibsons for their ride to work in the morning. This was about four guys with lunch buckets and hard hats waiting, facing the street (i.e. not staring into the window of the bank). When their ride came they disappeared. At one point someone came out of the bank and said, “You guys shouldn’t stand out here. You’re making the staff nervous.” Where does this kind of snotty ignorance come from, anyway?

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