Wednesday 9 pm - I read a note in a WhatsApp group that said that our friends who had been sheltered by the County at one of the motels were going to be "discharged" at 10 am Thursday morning. The call was, "Who might be available to help?" A few of us said we'd be able to drop in.
And before you assume anything... the "discharge" was not because of
anything they'd done. There had previously been a few residents evicted
because they'd broken rules. The people who remained had done nothing
wrong. But they'd been told (at 3 pm Wednesday) that they were out with
less than 24 hours notice. The most plausible reason that surfaced was
that the motel wanted the rooms available because hockey season is
starting, and teams come through town. Let the scrambling begin.
Thursday 8 am - I spent an hour and a half working on my sermon for Sunday.
9:45 am - My husband and I got in my car and drove to Timmie's for
our previously scheduled shift to decorate cookies for the Smile Cookie
fundraiser in support of our local foodbank.
10:15 - My son got in my husband's car and drove to our store. He's
covering some shifts right now because our valued, longtime employee has
had to step back on short notice from working because of health
struggles.
Meanwhile I kept up with developments at the motel through WhatsApp, and made smiley faces out of sugar.
11:00 - Cookies were finished so my husband and I got in my car and drove to the motel to see what was up and how we might be able to help. I talked to another volunteer, and a few friends (whose reactions were ranging from philosophical ("It's gonna be ok."), to mild panic ("What the hell am I supposed to do now? I just got in here last week!"), to trying hard not to let anybody see them cry). Some were going to the warming room downtown, some probably back to the Camp, some were in touch with friends or family, some were working on finding another motel room somewhere else. Most people's things were being packed into bins and labelled with their names. A truck carried the bins to a SeaCan for storage until... whenever.
I agreed to provide transport for one couple's belongings to wherever they were able to find a room. They had to make those calls themselves because (I heard a staffer say) when the County calls motels, "there's a stigma" and it's harder for them to get in the door. Arrangements were still being worked out, so I drove my husband to the store to get his car. From there he drove to the church of which I am the Pastor to set up for and host our monthly Ministerial meeting at noon. I drove back to the motel.
By then, my friends had a room arranged. Their belongings were all packed up and being carried down the stairs. In the time it took them go to down and back up the stairs again, their room key expired and they had to go get it renewed so they could get the rest of their stuff.
We loaded my car with as much as would fit, which was about 25% short
of everything, plus bikes. I assumed we'd drive over to the new room
and unload, then return for the rest. Except check-in time for the new
room was 4:00 pm. It wasn't even noon yet. Brief moment of panic.
We came up with a plan: two of us would drive over to the church, unload about a quarter of what was in my car plus fridge food. Then drive back to the motel, load up the rest into my car (minus bikes). Then the two would ride their bikes to the new motel and I (not needing the passenger seat for a person) would move the rest of their belongings from the church back into the car, and meet them at the new place at 3:30.
12:45 - All the things rounded up, my friends together at the old motel with their bikes, I drove back to the church, dropped off my briefcase in my office and joined the meeting in progress. The pizza was cold but still good.
1:15 - The meeting wrapped up. My husband drove back to the store. My son took his car and drove home.
1:30 - I sat down in my office, made a coffee, and spent a couple of hours working on my sermon for Sunday, and some things for Advent which begins in a couple of weeks.
3:30 - They were already checked in (a relief!). It took two runs with the luggage cart to get their belongings up the elevator and to their room.
4:00 - I drove to the store to pick up my husband and drive him home with a stop on the way to make a bank deposit.
5:00 - We walked in the front door. My son had supper started. All my stuff was where I'd left it this morning and still will be in 24 hours. My friends were sheltered for the moment. It hadn't rained today.
I said a prayer of thanks for so many things.
(For those keeping score at home: that's from home to Timmie's to the motel to the store to the motel to the church to the motel to the church to the other motel to the store to the bank to home.)
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Addendum: I wrote the above Thursday night when I was tired. Now that I've slept I want to add that what I described was just my own day. It doesn't speak to the other volunteers or the County staff who were present and doing what they did. It's one thing to help a friend move when they actually know where they're moving to. Having to move out first... that's a whole other thing. This is just a blip on the radar when it comes to the housing crisis. And in the meantime while some of us were doing what we could at the motel, another volunteer in the group was trying (from out of town for the day) to get a ride across town for someone unhoused who needed to get to the hospital.
I love this team. I respect these people. I'm honoured to be among them. But we are not the solution any more than our friends are the problem.
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