Winter solstice vigils honor victims of homelessness
Clutching an electric candle, Dr. Jennifer Brody was on the edge of tears Thursday as she recounted a call she received hours earlier about a longtime patient at the Boston Health Care for the Homeless Program.
The caller informed Brody that the patient, a man in his 40s who had recently moved out of the large homeless encampment known as Mass. and Cass, was found dead that morning in his apartment.
“It takes your breath away,” said Brody, director of HIV Services at the nonprofit.
“Even though we are pouring our love and our hearts and our care into our patients ... it’s hard to face the fact that so much is not enough.”
Brody was among more than 60 people who braved a biting wind Thursday to participate in a candlelight vigil at the Boston Health Care for the Homeless office at 780 Albany St. to honor those who have died while living on the streets this year. Since 1990, the vigils have been held annually across the state and nation on the longest night of the year.
From Boston to Cape Cod, people observe the day by gathering with candles, observing moments of silence, and holding signs with the names of the deceased.
In Massachusetts, the gatherings took on special significance this year amid a surge in the number of people sleeping in emergency shelters and outside in the elements.
A report issued last week from the US Department of Housing and Urban Development showed that 19,141 people in Massachusetts experienced homelessness on a single night last January, part of the department’s annual point-intime count of unsheltered people nationally. That’s a 23 percent increase over the previous year and the fifth-largest increase nationwide. Two-thirds of people experiencing homelessness in Massachusetts were families with children, the highest share in the country, HUD found.
“Often our patients don’t get funerals or wakes or memorial services,” said Samantha Ciarocco, director of trauma services for Boston Health Care for the Homeless, who spoke at the memorial. “This is our way, even though [the homeless] deserve much more, to honor those we have lost and to give our staff and patients the space to mourn.”
Soaring rents, a worsening opioid epidemic, and a severe shortage of treatment options for people struggling with mental illnesses have contributed to the escalating numbers living in the streets, say state housing and homeless advocacy groups.
Because Massachusetts has a “right to shelter” law, the state has among the nation’s lowest percentage of people sleeping outdoors instead of in emergency shelters.
Even so, the state is experiencing a troubling reversal of past trends.
The number of people classified as unsheltered — those who are sleeping in tents, on sidewalks, under bridges, and other places outside — reached 1,362 in January, up 20 percent from the previous year. (Those who are unsheltered represent 7 percent of the state’s total homeless population, which includes those living outside as well as those in emergency shelters or transitional housing programs, according to the HUD count.)
Nationwide, homelessness is surging.
On a single night last January, roughly 653,100 people — or about 20 of every 10,000 people in the United States — were experiencing homelessness, the HUD report showed. That’s a 12 percent increase from the previous year and the highest since reporting began in 2007.
“We are going in the wrong direction,” said Joyce Tavon, chief executive officer of the Massachusetts Housing and Shelter Alliance, a nonprofit advocacy and policy organization.
“And most of this crisis was homegrown. We simply have not kept pace with the need for more deeply affordable housing with support services.”
Among those attending Thursday’s vigil was Dr. Jim O’Connell, the pioneering Harvard-trained physician who helped found the Boston Health Care for the Homeless Program nearly 40 years ago. The nonprofit is the city’s largest homeless provider that serves nearly 10,000 adults and children through its network of 30 clinics and more than 600 staff.
As Thursday’s vigil wound down, a woman wearing Christmas lights around her neck yelled from the edge of the crowd of mourners.
“Maybe in the new year we won’t lose anybody,” said the woman, Joanne Guarino, who had been homeless off and on for three decades and serves on the Boston Health Care for the Homeless Program’s board of directors. “Wouldn’t that be great?”