There’s one thing pastor Meg McBride keeps coming back to with her efforts at the warming shelter: that you have to see it to believe it.
"People in meetings will say, you know, what's the big deal? Blah, blah, blah, it's only 200 people," she said. "Which is different than seeing 200 bodies in a room together, right? Like, and I don't know how to, like, give that experience to people or that understanding, unless you come here and look at it.”
She’s right, of course. It’s one thing to hear about 200 people in shelter — it’s another thing to see them.
Outside, a dozen people stand in the snow smoking. One brave guest is volunteering to clean the port-a-potties that had to be brought in to supplement the church’s limited bathrooms.
Other volunteers, who’ve stayed all night, joke about being addicted to the warming shelter and not being able to stay away. Inside, some guests are sleeping, others are talking — one about a bunkmate who’s fighting cancer. There are veterans and disabled people and even a few children staying in the shelter this year.
Among them is 56-year-old Lily Hurst, who’s staying here with her service dog, Chase: an extremely friendly white and brown speckled pit bull mix. She came to Wilmington while she waits for her son to finish boot camp with the military.
“And I did find a room, but shortly after I got the room, they cut my SSI off so I couldn't afford it anymore,” she said. Losing Supplemental Security Income left her with just a $430 disability payment, which isn't nearly enough to pay rent.
Lily has been homeless for 6 months, and is disabled after a stroke more than 10 years ago. McBride said Lily asked if she could have a tent to move into the woods.
That question broke her heart, even though McBride is used to tough stories after so many years serving the homeless.
"There's not a lot of people that affect me deeply, because I've been working in homelessness for over 10 years now," she said, holding back tears. "But she — I would go home at night and be like, there is no way this woman can live in the woods.”
McBride said Lily relies on her service dog to walk: she struggles to ambulate without the assistance of an animal. So now she's fighting to find housing for Lily, and she was relieved to hear that Lily’s brother was willing to house her – though Lily didn’t want to ask for the help.
"I didn't want to bother him with it, because if I go, I'll be kicking one of my nephews out of their room,” she explained. But when her brother found out she planned to sleep outside: “He goes, 'Well, you're not sleeping out in the cold.' He says, 'I'm coming to get you Sunday.'”
Speaking about the warming shelter, Lily couldn't contain her emotion.
"They really follow God's word and say, open your doors to those who need it. And they they absolutely do," Lily said. "And I am so grateful for them that they've done this, because I know I wouldn't have made it out there in that snow. I know I wouldn't have. And it's been a true blessing to be here, and I have met some of the most wonderful people, and I've made some new friends that will be with me the rest of my life because of the shelter."
Out of the 200 people at the shelter, McBride had just a handful of cases of people who were moved in with relatives or found more permanent housing. She hopes to coordinate with care providers more effectively in the future, but it's also a problem of limited resources: housing for the disabled and the poor is in extremely short supply in Wilmington.
"How do we help these people?," McBride said. "Well, you can't just throw everybody in the same bucket, because homelessness and the causes of homelessness and the reasons for it are nuanced and unique. And so you really have to ask each person, where they are in all of that. Some people can resolve pretty quickly, right? They just need dollars or, you know, an ID. Those are light touches, right? Easy fixes. And then there's more cases that are just complicated.”
One of those more complicated cases is that of Michael Anthony Bell, a 65-year-old veteran from Rocky Point. He actually has a house out there that belonged to his grandmother, but the title is tied up in his father’s estate, making it impossible for him to get grants to repair it. He reached out to WARM NC, but said "they wouldn't help me, with it being heirs' property.”
Heirs property: that's what happens when a relative dies without a will, leaving no clear title to a home. It ends up owned by numerous people the next generation down. That house in Rocky Point has electricity, but no heat or water. It’s in disrepair and unfit for human habitation, but Michael has been living there anyway — at least until the temperatures started dropping down below 20 degrees.
Read More: Heirs' Property: How to lose a home in three generations
Michael’s friend David Brenner volunteers at the shelter and picked Michael up when he was stuck in bed with a back injury. Michael says that friendship has helped him stay out of trouble and leave addiction behind.
“With being around positive people like Mr. Brenner, I just shake it off," Michael said. "I don't even think about it. Because I stay out. I'm always doing something."
Brenner chimed in: “Blowing the leaves away, sweeping the floor a mop last night for Yeah. So he's not a lazy individual. He's a person worth saving, that our community ought to put value in.”
Brenner sees a lot of the guests at the shelter chipping in, and he wants to see a permanent shelter available to the people who need it.
"I'm trying to help them now secure some funds so they can operate a permanent warming center," he said. "We should be ashamed in Wilmington for not having one. It's a crime against humanity I can't believe exists. The town of Wilmington is better than that. We can do better.”
He said he’s also trying to get local officials to come see the shelter for themselves.
It’s painful to see the sheer volume of people in need. But McBride said it’s been amazing to watch people come together. The first few nights are always full of anxiety and pent up energy, but after several long runs of shelter days, "they start to like, love each other in a different way. And so compassion rises up in the shelter as well. And now today, on our fifth day of 24/7 sheltering, we didn't have to clean a thing in the shelter.”
That’s because the guests themselves had taken care of everything.
After the shelter closes for the season, McBride is hoping to take some time to think about how to keep the momentum going — so that more and more of these guests can find permanent housing.
