Homeless slide show
  Homeless in Augusta
  A day on the streets
  Homeless agencies compete for money

Web-posted August 24, 1996

By Amy Joyner
Staff Writer

When Grace Hammock began working for the Salvation Army 14 years ago, she either helped homeless clients with the resources at hand or turned them away.

She didn't - couldn't - send them somewhere else.

``Fourteen years ago when I came in, it was just unheard of to call another agency,'' said Ms. Hammock, social services supervisor.

With shrinking resources, agencies now work together to provide assistance without duplication to the growing homeless population.

By all accounts, it's been a fruitful endeavor, but still falls painfully short of the community's needs.

Simply put: ``We need resources. We need shelter,'' said Butch Gallop, task force president.

There are at least eight homeless shelters in Augusta, serving men, women and children. Physicians give free health care at clinics, and volunteers serve hundreds of hot meals daily at shelters and soup kitchens.

What's missing is costlier, long-term shelter that could give everyone who wants one an address.

Another missing element is day care.

Images of bums, panhandlers, alcoholics and the mentally ill as the homeless have been replaced by the reality of whole families and young mothers with infants out on the streets.

Agencies have recognized this change, providing more shelter where families can stay together, but very little is done to keep them off the streets permanently.

``Even if you want to get out of the cycle, it's virtually impossible if you have young children with the cost of day care,'' said Rebecca Wallace. executive director of Augusta Urban Ministries, which offers free or affordable day care to low-income or student parents.

There's little else available for poor, working families, save a helpful family member, an affordable babysitter, on-the-job centers or hard-to-find state support.

But the most pressing concern is adequate shelter for the homeless.

On any given night, Augusta's shelters have room for less than 5 percent of the homeless population, by some estimates as many as 5,000 people.

And while they are clean and comfortable, these shelter beds are little more than stopgap measures, no real remedy to the causes of homelessness.

``I do not want to see a whole lot of 24-hour shelters,'' Mr. Gallop said. ``That does us no good. We need places where you're going to bring people in, train and teach.''

That kind of housing is scarce in Augusta. Between them, the CSRA Economic Opportunity Authority and Augusta Urban Ministries own 11 transitional houses for families and HIV-positive men and women.

The residents are given some training for independence, as well as a place to eat and sleep.

But shelters without residential treatment or job training don't have the resources to provide anything but the essentials.

They have strict rules against loitering, especially for men. After clients eat breakfast, they're forced out the door to search for jobs.

Many return to shelters at night, still jobless and no better off after a day on the streets.

This revolving-door reality is forcing agencies to re-examine how they serve the homeless.

Once funding is in place, Bethel Outreach Inc. plans to open a 45-bed transitional shelter on Ninth Street, where counselors will provide job training.

Mr. Gallop is also lobbying the city for more transitional and low-income housing.

Since 1965, the Augusta Rescue Mission on Walker Street has provided temporary shelter for the homeless. But that perpetuates the problem more than solves it, said the Rev. Alvin L. Jones, executive director.

``Temporary shelter hasn't been real effective,'' he said. ``Our goal is to make an impact on people's lives for the future.

``We want to use the Rescue Mission as a stepping stone.''

Robert McNair and Joe, who didn't want his last name used, are products of the mission.

Mr. McNair, 27, a former professional cook, pays for his room and meals by working in the shelter's kitchen.

Soon, he wants to find a place of his own and return as a volunteer.

``I'm trying to get all the tools that I need to possess to get back out there,'' Mr. McNair said.

Joe answers telephones, acts as a security guard, fixes toilets and does anything else the minister asks.

He has no plans to leave or to do anything else.

``I never make plans anymore,'' he said between puffs of a cigarette. ``They don't materialize.

``Tomorrow takes care of itself.''