Despite the dismantling of Tent City earlier this year, numerous people are still living outdoors in Charleston.
Before much of the city started to stir Wednesday morning, one man stood with a shopping bag at his feet in front of a downtown business on Lee Street. He was behind a pillar and almost hidden from view, but a homeless outreach worker saw him and called him by name.
Traci Strickland, director of homeless programs for Prestera, asked the man if he had been able to lie down and rest anywhere Tuesday night. For a few hours, he told her.
Strickland also is director of the Kanawha Valley Collective, a nonprofit coalition of agencies serving the homeless in the area.
"I worry about your legs because you're standing so much," Strickland told him.
"I do it for my legs, for the circulation," he said.
Strickland was one of about 20 social services workers and volunteers who searched the streets and known homeless gathering spaces in Charleston from about 6 to 8 a.m. Wednesday as part of the annual Point in Time survey. Agencies that work with the homeless must conduct the survey each year as a condition of HUD funding.
"Point in Time and taxes, by April 15th," Strickland said.
Strickland's group stopped by an abandoned house on Quarrier Street that she'd received complaints about in the past, drove downtown and walked several alleyways, then drove to a gathering space underneath a bridge. It was much smaller than Tent City, but the sight of tents next to the river and belongings strewn about was reminiscent of the dismantled encampment.
Fourteen people were counted Wednesday morning. Strickland anticipated that the total would rise to about 50 after they surveyed Manna Meal at lunch.
The number does not include the homeless population staying in city shelters.
Darick Biondi, one of the volunteers, saw a stark contrast as he spoke to a couple of people under a bridge, "just about a stone's throw from professional people getting ready for their day."
"I was surprised how difficult it is to find people, but when you do, they're kind of actually staring you in the face," he said. "It makes you realize it's here, and it's very evident if you just have eyes to see."
Those who work with the homeless in Charleston, like Roark-Sullivan Lifeways Center veterans-programs Director Nadir Mirza, will typically tell you that there are numerous resources for the homeless here, and that they want to help.
"There is a disconnect," Nadir said. "We're trying to bridge that gap."
But they also know that many people don't want to live in homeless shelters or aren't equipped to deal with the rules there and they have to respect individual autonomy.
Strickland said she realizes that, sometimes, building a relationship with the person has to come before the person will accept services.
"It's really about trying not to come on too strong," Strickland said. "It scares people off. People promised things before, and they just don't trust . . .
"Sometimes outreach is just like a dance," she said.
To the man on Lee Street, Strickland asked if he would accept help finding shelter. He previously had a voucher for housing, but he had missed an appointment to sign some papers. She wanted him to go to a homeless shelter temporarily, until he could come for another appointment, then get him into permanent housing.
"New calendar year, new verification of income," she said. "You know the government. You've got to turn in all the paperwork."
The man simply said he needed to take the bus to Southridge and wasn't receptive to shelter. He didn't make much eye contact and wasn't particularly interested in conversation. He looked like he was mainly focused on keeping warm.
"I've been checking, but everything is so high," he said.
"We need to get you inside," she said. "We're supposed to get another snowstorm."
A couple other volunteers were less emphatic than Strickland when they spoke to a woman living under the bridge.
She was a new face, although she said she had been living under the bridge for a month or two.
They asked her is she wanted matched up with a case manager.
"I don't need that, no."
Did she feel safe?
"Nobody's bothering me at all."
Did she need anything at all?
Just a coffee, she said.
Reach Erin Beck at erin.beck@wvgazettemail.com, 304-348-5163, Facebook.com/erinbeckwv or follow @erinbeckwv on Twitter.