The homeless. Many see them as the innocent dealt a poor hand. Some, as free-loaders and addicts. For others they’re an unsightly annoyance. In many jurisdictions, political disagreements feed inaction. While some see a responsibility, others worry that help serves to recruit more and more of the needy. While the debate continues in cities and towns across the North State, a small site in Marysville may hold part of the answer.
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At first, it doesn’t look like much. Twenty gussied up backyard tool sheds neatly spread around a gravel yard. There’s a low cyclone fence, a trailer and a modular portable. Hard against a tall levee and hidden behind a railway line’s high berm, it’s not entirely obvious that you’re near the heart of a historic town once envisioned as California’s largest metropolis.
“It’s been a blessing,” says Ramona Tabares, who has been living at what’s called 14-Forward for about a month. “A blessing for me and my puppy.”
Accommodations here are sparse. There’s no electricity, no heat and no running water. Hot meals are served at the adjacent Twin Cities Rescue Mission where hot showers are available every few days.
While a robust debate continues about sanctioned camps, loitering laws, sobriety and criminalization of the homeless across the state and nation, six months ago, this little city went into action.
Russ Brown is communications and legislative affairs coordinator for Yuba County.
“We had a huge homeless problem in terms of the encampments were popping up all around Marysville, and they were huge and they were growing exponentially almost, over the past year and a half or so,” Brown says.
While residents face similar situations now, each was led here by different challenges. Tabares wound up living in her car with her dog, Baby, after her identity was stolen and the worker’s comp benefit checks she depended on were diverted.
“You know, one day you work hard your whole life and the next day it’s all taken from you,” she said. “I never seen myself in this position before, and it’s overwhelming to see folks out here sleeping with their children out in the camp in the rain.”
Lifelong logger Lee Daniels, 72, was brought here after floodwaters inundated his unsanctioned camp.
“I’m very happy, or else I’d be up on that river bank or someplace underneath a tree with a sleeping bag, and freezing to death,” Daniels said. “I’m up in ages — I don’t need to get sick.”
The homeless aren’t warehoused at 14-Forward. The goal is reintegration. Jobs for the employable, better coping skills, counseling, treatment for the mentally ill and permanent housing for everyone.
There’s an on-site caretaker 24/7, social workers, mental health counselors, and other staffers trying to help people get back on their feet. One of the first guests is now a paid worker here. The aim isn’t to create new programs, but linking people with aid they already qualify for.
The site’s location at the border of two different cities and two separate counties makes it that much more remarkable. Where many jurisdictions look to avoid extending help to outsiders, here officials are collaborating.
While not everyone is welcome, there aren’t many barriers either.
“Some are really happy to be here, some are not happy to be here,” Brown says. “Some are working toward the goals, some are not. It’s a very honest cross section of humanity out here.”
Residents can stay 21 days. If they are making progress, extensions are granted. Brown said for many, having a secure place to lock up their belongings can prove a tremendous help. Various residents admitted they were afraid to leave their camps, and risk losing bedding, clothes or other vital items. Even with all the coordination, it can take weeks for guests to obtain a new ID, birth certificate or veterans records needed to even apply for benefits.
Brown said that since opening in July, between a quarter and a third of guests received permanent housing.
“We have to be honest with people, we can’t just let them determine that they’re going to fail and be a part of this, because, that doesn’t set the example of where we need to go,” he says. “We don’t really want to push them out, we’re going to try and keep them on as long as we can but we can’t hold their hand the entire way without them trying, they have to be part of the solution.”