Coronavirus job losses, missed graduations: Charlotte’s homeless population experienced them, too

On any given day, you can find familiar faces filling the air with laughter in a parking lot off of North Tryon Street. Under red canopies, a group clad with masks sets up tables with pans of desserts and other food. People talk and occasionally dance.

Deborah Woolard has celebrated birthdays, holidays and other special occasions here. She calls the people she serves her family.

Woolard, founder of Block Love Charlotte, has been helping fill the needs of her “block family” since cases of the coronavirus began to rise in March. Every day, near the corner of Tryon Street and Phifer Street in uptown, Woolard feeds anyone who lines up to be served.

Many are homeless. Others live in tents around Charlotte.

“They are our family. We have formed relationships way before COVID-19. There was no way in the world that I was going to leave them high and dry,” Woolard said.

For Charlotte’s homeless population, COVID-19 has compounded an already tough existence. But in some ways, those without homes are experiencing many of the same hardships others in the community are: The loss of jobs, for example, and the abrupt cancellation of graduations.

This month, the Charlotte Observer spoke with people without homes about their experience throughout the pandemic. Here are some of those stories.

Melissa Rushing

Before the pandemic’s start, Melissa Rushing, 32, found herself displaced from her home and living in a tent on North College Street. A short time later, Rushing began classes at Goodwill in hopes of obtaining a higher paying job in construction.

With more income, she could move out of the tent. Rushing enrolled in a 12-week course, earned her forklift license and had almost made it to graduation.

Then everything came to a standstill.

“I was supposed to graduate in April, on the 25th, and I didn’t get the chance. We didn’t get a chance to see our graduation because of the outbreak. It kinda upset me. I also wasn’t able to start my next class. It was electrical, commercial and residential. I got a lot going on,” she said.

“It was over for me. I was looking forward to getting new employment and higher pay because I had certifications. I just ended up here. It was scary because I was like what am I going to do? Am I going to be stuck out here during the summertime?”

Still, Rushing was optimistic and is working toward being able to buy her own home.

“Overall, I’m OK. I’m trying to save up. I wish that I could have help. I want to find my own home to pay for so I can stop wasting my money leasing stuff out, renting and doing all that stuff.”

Jimmy Pittman

When the pandemic began, Jimmy Pittman, 55, was working at The Salvation Army. As cases began to rise, Pittman was laid off. He soon found himself spending the money he had saved to pay for a motel room. Since his release from prison in 2013 after serving a nine and a half year sentence, Pittman had been working toward regaining a sense of normalcy when the coronavirus upended his progress.

Pittman was preparing for a job interview and was in search of a razor to shave when he spoke with The Observer.

“They told me to come as you are but just come presentable,” Pittman said.

He has been doing landscaping work when possible but desires to work on a job full-time.

“I’m not going to be out here too much longer,” Pittman said, smiling.

“I may be homeless, but there is one thing that I can say, you damn sure won’t go hungry,” Pittman said.

That’s in part because of the people helping, he said. Every day, volunteers pass out food, toiletries and other essentials on College Street. Pittman said he might end up back in his hometown of Lumberton if things do not work out in Charlotte due to rising costs.

“It’s hard trying to live here by yourself and you ain’t making anything but 11 or 12 dollars (an hour). What is $12? You only getting $400 a week. Your rent might be six, seven hundred dollars,” Pittman said.

His options are limited due to his criminal background and financial situation.

“My biggest concern is just trying to get somewhere to live properly,” Pittman said.

Will Williams

Will Williams, 43, has not worked in four months. Before the coronavirus began to spread, Williams was working at Jimmy John’s, delivering food on a bike. He said his hours have been cut during the pandemic.

Williams is the father of two young children. His wife works in a nursing home and that adds stress to keeping his family safe and healthy, he said.

“All that she’s doing is just trying to support the family and trying to survive,” Williams said.

Like many people, Williams’ family has been forced to dig into their savings.

Williams believes people haven’t cared enough for the homeless.

“You can’t just care about somebody because they are existing on this earth just like you are? We’ve been begging and dying and pleading with you to help us for centuries, decades and you just turned up your nose.”

Deborah Woolard, too, hopes to see a shift in how society views homeless people. She described some of the situations members of her “block family” face. There are foster kids who have aged out of the system with nowhere to go, widows who couldn’t support themselves after their spouse died and people with special needs who lost family members who took care of them.

“We want to change the narrative,” Woolard said. “People think that everybody (homeless) is drunk, that they’ve got mental health issues or they’re high. That’s not all what it is. We have to look at each and every situation differently.”

Woolard has been homeless and uses her experiences to help others.

“We will be out until we get a hold on this pandemic. Until people realize that homeless people are humans. They look just like you and me,” she said.

“At the end of the day, it’s all about spreading love throughout this city one block at a time.”