Thanks to a $4.25 million grant from the Charlottesville Area Community Foundation, the Piedmont Housing Alliance was able to renovate dozens of rooms (shown before and after, above) at the former Red Carpet Inn, which is now home to 68 people. Photo: Eze Amos
After months of paying for hotel rooms for people experiencing homelessness during the COVID-19 pandemic, PACEM and the Thomas Jefferson Area Coalition for the Homeless were in desperate search of a long-term housing solution. When the Red Carpet Inn off Route 29 in Albemarle County was put up for sale last summer, the nonprofits believed they could transform the 40-year-old rundown motel into the permanent emergency shelter they needed.
Thanks to a $4.25 million grant from the Charlottesville Area Community Foundation, the Piedmont Housing Alliance purchased the property in March, and got to work renovating the rooms, which were in varying stages of disrepair. In May, the low-barrier shelter finally opened its doors to all people experiencing homelessness, prioritizing those who are at high risk of becoming severely ill and dying if they contract coronavirus. Since then, it has provided shelter to around 100 people.
Now, the shelter is at capacity, according to PACEM and TJACH, who manage the property together. Sixty-eight people—including a few couples—are currently living in 63 of the former motel’s renovated rooms. Though there are 10 additional renovated rooms, they are not being used right now, due to maintenance issues.
The nonprofits plan to upgrade the remaining 36 unrenovated rooms, so the shelter will have over 100 rooms available for guests. But first, they need to raise about $300,000 for the project.
“There was extensive mold growth in particular in all of the rooms, so we had to strip the wallpaper and professionally clean the walls to make sure the growth was stopped,” says TJACH Executive Director Anthony Haro of the renovations. “And we did basically the same thing for the carpets—they were all removed and replaced.”
The renovation team also had to replace many of the motel’s HVAC units, and fix some electrical and plumbing issues.
Over the past six months, “there have needed to be regular fixes,” adds PACEM Executive Director Jayson Whitehead. “I don’t think we foresaw just how big the property management piece was going to be.”
Despite these challenges, guests have been “really enjoying” the shelter, says Whitehead. In addition to having their own room, all guests receive intensive case management services, along with food, clothing, and other necessities. They are also connected to a variety of community resources, including employment assistance, mental health services, substance abuse treatment, and medical care.
“It’s pretty neat to always see the sense of community that’s developed over here,” says Whitehead. “Everybody has neighbors, and they’ve formed friendships and bonds. That’s the case even with staff and guests.”
“We have regular offerings from Project ID…and there’s a regular UVA health clinic on site weekly,” he adds. “There’s a lot of really directly addressing either health issues or housing barriers.”
Since the Supreme Court ruled against the Biden administration’s federal eviction moratorium extension in August, concern over evictions has heightened across the country. However, TJACH has not seen a local increase in homelessness due to evictions recently, largely thanks to the Virginia Rent Relief Program, says Haro.
Still, to ensure no one has to sleep on the streets during the cold winter months, PACEM will set up its annual temporary congregate shelters at local churches, starting November 6. Meanwhile, TJACH will pay for hotel rooms for high-risk individuals, if they are unable to stay at the shelter at the former Red Carpet Inn.
“To date, there have been no [COVID] outbreaks in our shelter system…which is very much tied to our ability to have private rooms for people,” adds Haro.
The housing advocates have even bigger plans for the former motel in the future: tackling Charlottesville’s affordable housing crisis. Virginia Supportive Housing recently received low-income tax credit awards to build 80 permanent housing units at the site, which will be available to disabled individuals who chronically struggle with homelessness. The project is expected to be completed in 2024.
The Piedmont Housing Alliance will also build 60 affordable housing units—to be rented for no more than 30 percent of the gross income of future residents—on the property.
In addition to financial support from the community, PACEM and TJACH need additional volunteers to help with various tasks at the new shelter, like landscaping and laundry.
And as Charlottesville’s Future Land Use Map and Comprehensive Plan wait for approval from City Council, Haro and Whitehead hope the community will not only advocate for affordable housing development, but also assist in bringing it to fruition.
“It’s how people get out of shelter,” says Haro. “They need a safe and affordable place to move into, and that’s really hard to come by today.”
“We need more than the 80 units of permanent supportive housing and 60 affordable ones—we need 10 times that probably for our community,” he adds.
The former Red Carpet Inn will soon be transformed into a non-congregate emergency shelter for people experiencing homelessness. PC: Staff photo
Since the start of the coronavirus pandemic, local shelters have drastically expanded their efforts to house our most vulnerable community members. With support from the Thomas Jefferson Area Coalition for the Homeless and People and Congregations Engaged in Ministry, those experiencing homelessness have been able to stay at hotels, where they receive daily meals, case management services, and assistance with transition into permanent housing.
Putting people up in hotels isn’t cheap, however.
“The pandemic continued far, far, far longer than people anticipated, so you had a situation where there was a possibility of spending millions a year to keep people in these hotel rooms—but no real long-term solution for their homelessness,” says Eboni Bugg, director of programs for the Charlottesville Area Community Foundation.
After forming a partnership with TJACH last spring, the philanthropy facilitators at CACF began to look for permanent housing options around Charlottesville. When the Red Carpet Inn off Route 29 in Albemarle County was put up for sale over the summer, CACF saw the spot’s potential.
CACF gave the Piedmont Housing Alliance a $4.25 million grant to purchase the property and transform it into a non-congregate emergency shelter for people experiencing homelessness. Once it’s been renovated, PACEM and TJACH will manage the 115 single-occupancy rooms.
The shelter “will be similar to the kind of support people have been getting in emergency shelter programs with PACEM,” says TJACH Executive Director Anthony Haro. “We’re making sure that it’s a safe and healthy environment for everybody, and that there’s support to get basic needs met, [like] food and clothing. [We’ll] also provide connections to more unique services in the community—employment services, mental health services, substance abuse treatment, and medical care.”
The former hotel will help alleviate the desperate need for affordable housing in the Charlottesville area. Over the next five years, PHA plans to construct 60 additional affordable housing apartments on the property. They’ll be rented for no more than 30 percent of the gross income of future residents.
By 2023, Virginia Supportive Housing will also build 80 permanent housing units at the site. Those apartments will be available to disabled individuals who chronically struggle with homelessness, and a variety of services will be offered.
PACEM plans to move its guests staying at the local La Quinta Inn & Suites into the newly renovated hotel by the end of the month.
“We’re replacing the wallpaper and cleaning the walls. There’s mold underneath the wallpaper in the rooms—in some rooms it’s pretty extensive,” says Haro. “We’re also replacing the carpets.”
Those people were paying $1,200 to $1,400 a month for one of those hotel rooms—no one should have to do that.
Eboni Bugg, Charlottesville Area Community Foundation director of programs
The hotel wasn’t empty, however. A handful of long-term guests had been living there when the inn changed hands. The previous owner didn’t tell the tenants about the property sale, says Bugg.
“We did actually request well ahead of time the names of folks so we could do some outreach to ensure what happened didn’t happen. [But] when we went to check on the people to see if they had a plan, the owner had never notified anyone that the hotel was closing,” says Bugg. “[The owner] even had collected rent beyond the closing date.”
PHA was able to place the guests in a new hotel, and will allow those still in need of housing to move into the new shelter.
“The [new] development is actually aiming to solve problems like this,” Bugg says. “Those people were paying $1,200 to $1,400 a month for one of those hotel rooms—no one should have to do that.”
According to PACEM Executive Director Jayson Whitehead, demand for emergency housing has spiked over the course of the pandemic. Since last summer, the 60 rooms reserved for high-risk guests at the La Quinta have remained at full capacity.
During the winter, TJACH had to reserve additional rooms for high-risk guests at several other area hotels, while PACEM provided shelter at a handful of local churches for around 70 guests who weren’t medically vulnerable.
Over the past few months, UVA Health employees have visited the hotels and congregate shelters, as well as The Haven and Salvation Army shelter, to offer guests COVID vaccines.
“Surprisingly high numbers of our folks have taken advantage of that…considering all of the fears and conspiracy theories,” says Whitehead.
Once the new shelter is fully completed, people in need of emergency housing will be able to contact The Haven, complete the intake process, and receive transportation to the shelter. Guests will be within walking distance of a bus stop, as well as necessary amenities, like grocery stores and laundromats. They can also reserve rides with JAUNT.
A majority of PACEM’s guests are experiencing homelessness due to larger factors, like mental illness and addiction, says Whitehead. However, evictions remain a huge concern for local housing advocates. From January 1 to April 2, 15 eviction judgments (out 92 unlawful detainer hearings) were made in Charlottesville, and 15 (out of 66 hearings) were made in Albemarle County.
The end of the pandemic might be approaching, but the city’s problems with low-income housing won’t fix themselves any time soon.
“We will need support from the community to make this project a success financially,” says Haro.
The Front Porch’s Emily Morrison says a lot more adults have taken online music lessons during the pandemic. PC: Amy Jackson
“When the pandemic set in, it rendered our model impossible,” says Jayson Whitehead, executive director of PACEM, a local nonprofit that partners with area houses of worship to offer overnight shelter and meals for the homeless during the winter. Close contact in church buildings became unsafe. So did the buffet dinners served by congregation volunteers. “That interaction was a big part of our service,” Whitehead says. “It’s a big deal [for our clients], to be greeted and served by a smiling face.”
Big shake-ups have been the story for nonprofits all over town. And every organization serves a different community with unique needs, meaning each one has been forced to adapt in its own way.
For PACEM, that meant using the city’s Key Recreation Center as a temporary men’s shelter. Then, federal COVID support enabled the organization to tap local hotels to shelter women and the medically vulnerable, overseen by the Thomas Jefferson Area Coalition for the Homeless. Still, Whitehead notes, “the pandemic cut our capacity to offer shelter in half.” As restrictions eased, PACEM has resumed working with eight of its former 30 church partners, incorporating professional cleaning and prepackaged meals instead of buffet dinners. While the organization’s annual fundraising event had to be canceled, Whitehead has seen increased support from long-standing donors and faith-based partners. “We live in a pretty amazing community,” he says.
Elsewhere, the Sexual Assault Resource Agency quickly pivoted to offer teletherapy for its clients, as well as redesigning its sexual violence prevention programs for schools to use online, says interim executive director Renee Branson. Normally, SARA’s on-call emergency room advocates would support survivors in person, but since that’s not possible now, they work remotely and in close coordination with ER nurses to connect survivors with support. Branson knows many clients “may have less reliable [internet] access, so we also offer support by phone or drop off materials at their homes.” With both its annual fundraisers—Walk A Mile for SARA in April and its November Community Breakfast awards banquet—canceled, SARA launched an online auction during Giving Tuesday on December 1.
Renee Branson, interim executive director of the Sexual Assault Resource Agency, says the center has taken a number of steps to adapt to life with the virus. PC: Zack Wajsgras
Pre-COVID, the Charlottesville staff of Project ID visited the Albemarle-Charlottesville Regional Jail weekly to help inmates due for release get the identification (birth certificate, driver’s license, or DMV-issued ID) needed to apply for housing, social services, and jobs. “We’d see four to 12 people a week, and a DMV representative came in once a month,” says co-chapter lead DeAun Sanders. “Now we have to do all that by phone, even walking them through online applications. But many of them don’t have computers, or smartphones.” The group used to have office hours at the Jefferson School and public libraries, which made assistance and online access available for the city’s underserved and homeless, but that’s been curtailed by pandemic restrictions. Luckily, though, since Project ID also facilitates voter registration as part of national organization Spread the Vote, money hasn’t been an issue in this hyperactive election year.
Many Sentara women’s health and breast cancer programs receive funding from the Martha Jefferson Hospital Foundation’s Women’s Committee, best known for running Martha’s Market. But a three-day event with 40 vendors and hundreds of shoppers was impossible this year, so the committee went virtual—with an added twist of incorporating local businesses. “We didn’t expect to make as much money,” notes chair Amy Nolasco, “but we wanted to continue the event and support our health community.” The committee’s squash tournament fundraiser had to be scrapped, but the annual In the Pink tennis tournament went ahead—with COVID adaptations. “Usually we ask local small businesses to provide the prizes, as a promotion,” says Nolasco, “but we knew they couldn’t this year, so we bought their gift cards as prizes instead.”
Like other educational organizations, Literacy Volunteers of Charlottesville/Albemarle had to take its tutoring activities and citizenship classes online. Executive Director Ellen Osborne says there’s been some upside: tutor training—formerly a full day and in person—is now several shorter online sessions, making it easier for some people to participate. (They’ve even had a few trainees from outside Virginia—which works, since tutors and students now meet virtually.) And, since online sessions mean no commute and no need for a sitter, LVCA’s citizenship classes are booming. Literary Volunteers had to cancel this year’s Wordplay, its big game-show fundraising event, which usually nets about $20,000. “It’s hard to make up that kind of money,” says Osborne, “but all our sponsors are carrying over their fees until next time.”
The Front Porch, a nonprofit community music school, has gone all virtual until fall 2021. “We’ve lost many of our children—they are spending so much time online now,” says Executive Director Emily Morrison, “but we have seen a lot more adults, and a lot more private students over group lessons—one of our teachers has students from New York, Illinois, Florida, even Alaska.” Building community is part of The Front Porch’s mission, “and the pandemic has cramped that,” says Morrison; on the other hand, its Save the Music livestreamed performances have supported local musicians and generated donations for area nonprofits. Its spring block party and fall square dance are on hold, but Morrison says, “We’ve had a banner fundraising year, largely on gifts from $10 to $100—in this scary and divisive time, people have really stepped up to support our local nonprofits.”
Price Thomas, director of marketing for United Way of Greater Charlottesville, agrees: “People see the effects on their neighbors, and have been very generous, especially toward pandemic effects and recovery,” he says. United Way has been able to hold many of its donor and community events online, but while virtual accommodates more people, Thomas notes, it lacks that all-important personal contact. “Our focus is staying connected with people and with our community.”
PACEM’s Women’s Case Manager Heather Kellams asks for donations of arts and crafts supplies, games, books, and other “enriching activities” for those who are currently being housed in a hotel.
PC: Eze Amos
As the number of coronavirus cases continue to rise in our area, life has become increasingly dangerous for those who do not have a place to call home. To protect these vulnerable community members, local shelters have pivoted from their usual operations and redoubled their efforts over the past several months—but not without challenges.
For months, these organizations have been scrambling to find housing for people who need it.
In March, People and Congregations Engaged in Ministry, or PACEM, which works with local community groups to provide shelter for the homeless, began housing women at The Haven and men at Key Recreation Center.
In late April, the Thomas Jefferson Area Coalition for the Homeless was able to secure funding for 30 rooms at a local hotel. All six of the women housed at The Haven, and about a dozen men from Key Rec, were transferred there.
The rest of the men, however, had to remain in a group setting, because the hotel rooms were reserved only for high-risk individuals, according to Jayson Whitehead, executive director of PACEM.
PACEM then managed to set up another women’s shelter at Thomas Jefferson Memorial Church in May. And once TJACH reserved 20 more rooms at the hotel the following month, these women were also transferred there, along with the men who were staying at Key Rec, regardless of their risk status.
But PACEM is no longer able to take in guests who aren’t high-risk, due to the limited number of hotel rooms available.
“Everyone who was in the congregate setting, whether they were women or men, did have a place in the hotel,” says Stephen Hitchcock, The Haven’s executive director. “That’s not the case now. If someone is experiencing homelessness, but is not [high risk], given their age or medical vulnerability, they do not have an emergency option [with us].”
Those who are not high risk can go to The Salvation Army shelter, he says. It’s often at capacity, though, and is currently unable to accept new guests, thanks to recent state restrictions.
In the spring, as a response to the economic fallout caused by the pandemic, Governor Ralph Northam and the Supreme Court of Virginia ordered a moratorium on evictions. On June 29, that moratorium was lifted, causing concern among advocates for the unhoused. Northam and the state supreme court reinstated the eviction ban on August 7, but in July, over 15,000 eviction hearings were heard in court, and more than 3,000 families were evicted across Virginia, according to the Legal Aid Justice Center.
From July 1 to August 7, landlords brought 73 unique eviction cases against Albemarle County renters and 57 cases against Charlottesville renters. Of those 130 cases, 28 have already been decided against the tenants, and dozens more remain on the docket in coming weeks.
However, Anthony Haro, executive director of TJACH, says it is “too early to say” if there’s been an increase in homelessness due to lifting the moratorium.
“I don’t think we’ve really seen it yet…we are anticipating it,” says Haro. “[But] there are programs that are stepping up to keep people in housing.”
The state is currently running a rent and mortgage relief program, which has about “$2 million available locally to help families facing eviction,” says Haro. “It’s been very, very busy. There’s lots of people reaching out right now…It’s not going to meet all of the need, but we’re hoping that it’s going to prevent a lot of those evictions that we are anticipating.”
For the guests it is able to house at the hotel, PACEM provides a variety of services, including daily meals, group therapy, and weekly checkups (performed by UVA medical students). Staff also sets up and brings guests to doctor’s appointments, which are covered by TJACH.
Due to the extensive health and safety measures both staff and guests have taken, there have been no COVID-19 cases among those at the hotel, according to PACEM’s Women’s Case Manager Heather Kellams.
“The women have said that, being at the hotel, they feel much safer. They feel that their mental and physical health needs are being met in this setting,” she says. “They have a chance to be more grounded, so that they can really look at their goals…and work on becoming more stabilized.”
Kellams says that guests are “really bored,” though, and she’s asking for donations of arts and crafts supplies, games, books, and other “enriching activities” to keep them occupied.
“Somebody could come in and cut their hair while wearing masks,” she adds. “Those are the kind of things that would really be helpful.”
The Haven and PACEM ultimately hope to transition guests to permanent housing, using the thousands of dollars in donations they’ve received. But the pandemic has made this more challenging than ever.
“We have a lot of dollars to house people. There’s just not affordable housing available,” says Hitchcock. “A lot of landlords are very skittish right now…They’re waiting to see what UVA does, and what it means for students to come back. They’ve got students in leases generally from August to August, and that directly affects us—that’s the affordable housing.”
“It’s been ironic to be heavily resourced financially but with a dearth of affordable housing,” he adds. “We’ve always had this affordable housing issue, but it’s acutely the case right now.”
When the pandemic does finally come to an end, Hitchcock is hopeful there will be an even greater push for affordable housing in Charlottesville.
“It feels like the general public is beginning to understand that homelessness is at its root a housing crisis,” he says. “And what is being amplified is that housing is health care. Everyone being safe—including folks who are extremely poor or housing insecure—is public safety.”
Mental health advocate Myra Anderson warns that the social service systems need reform too. PC: Eze Amos
Every year, C-VILLE publishes a power issue. It’s usually a rundown of local real-estate moguls and entrepreneurs, tech tycoons, arts leaders, and big donors. This year’s issue is a little different—most of the people and groups listed here aren’t the richest folks in town. They don’t own the most land, they don’t run the biggest companies. But when things got really rocky, they stepped up, and exercised the power they do have to help those around them. This isn’t a comprehensive or objective list, of course, but we hope it highlights some of the many different forms that power can take in a community like ours. —Dan Goff, Brielle Entzminger, and Ben Hitchcock
The Organizers: Black Lives Matter movement in Charlottesville
There’s a revolution brewing. Activists all over the country and the world are taking a stand against police brutality, and Charlottesville is no different. Over the last few weeks, local black activists young and old have organized events in support of the national Black Lives Matter movement and its associated goals, including a march from the Charlottesville Police Department to Washington Park and a Defund the Police Block Party that marched from the John Paul Jones Arena parking lot to hold the intersection of Barracks Road and Emmet Street. Other organizations such as Congregate Charlottesville and its Anti-Racist Organizing Fund are supporting the activists calling for defunding the police department. Little by little, change is happening—on June 11, Charlottesville City Schools announced it will remove school resource officers and reallocate those funds for a new “school safety model.”—D.G.
Eze Amos: Photo: Eze Amos
The Documenters: C’ville Porchraits
How do we preserve art and community during a pandemic? It’s been a question addressed by many creatives, perhaps none more successfully than the creators of Cville Porch Portraits. Headed by Eze Amos, the “porchrait” takers, who have photographed 950 families outside their Charlottesville-area homes, also include Tom Daly, Kristen Finn, John Robinson, and Sarah Cramer Shields—all local photographers in need of work once the city shut down. The group has donated $40,000 to Charlottesville’s Emergency Relief Fund for Artists. “This is for everyone,” says Amos of the project, which has been successfully emulated by other photogs, including Robert Radifera.—D.G.
The Musicians: The Front Porch
As most concert venues were struggling to reschedule shows and refund ticket money, The Front Porch, Charlottesville’s beloved music school and performing space, wasted no time in pivoting to COVID-friendly programming. Executive Director Emily Morrison quickly set up Save the Music, a livestreamed concert series that brings performances by local artists like David Wax Museum and Lowland Hum to the comfort and safety of your home. If you haven’t tuned in yet, there’s still plenty of time—as the city tentatively reopens, Morrison recognizes that live music will likely be one of the last things to return, so she’s extended Save the Music to late August.—D.G.
Jay Pun. Photo: John Robinson
The Innovator: Jay Pun
All restaurant owners have had to get creative to keep their businesses alive during the pandemic, but almost no one has been as creative as Jay Pun, co-owner of both Chimm and Thai Cuisine and Noodle House. Pun has gone further than just a pickup/delivery model by starting a virtual cooking series on Instagram and Facebook Live, and selling kits to be used in tandem with the lessons. He’s also donated significant amounts of food to UVA health workers, and most recently has brought other Thai restaurants into the conversation: A recent discussion with the proprietor of famed Portland institution Pok Pok focused on food, but also touched on the issue of race in America.—D.G.
The Reporter: Jordy Yager
Through his work as a Digital Humanities Fellow at the Jefferson School African American Heritage Center and as a reporter for multiple local news outlets, journalist Jordy Yager addresses equity or the lack thereof in all its forms. This is showcased most notably in his Mapping Cville project, which takes on the enormous job of documenting Charlottesville’s history of racially restrictive housing deeds, but also through in-depth coverage of Home to Hope, a program dedicated to reintegrating formerly incarcerated citizens into society, and other studies on the redevelopment of Friendship Court and the day-to-day lives of refugees. Yager’s also extremely active on Twitter, retweeting the content of community organizers as well as his own work, and keeping his followers up to date on, well, almost everything.—D.G.
Kat Maybury (left) and Sherry Cook volunteering at the Haven. Photo: Zack Wajsgras
The Safe Places: The Haven and PACEM
Since the onset of the pandemic, the places that serve some of our community’s most vulnerable members have ramped up their efforts to keep guests and staff safe. Downtown day shelter The Haven has opened its doors to women who needed a place to sleep, while also continuing to provide its regular services, including daily to-go meals, with cleanliness and social distancing measures in place.
PACEM has remained open, serving more than 40 people per night, even though its volunteer staff is smaller than usual. Guests are screened for virus symptoms, and they’re given face masks, among other safety precautions, before being admitted to either the men’s or women’s shelter, where there’s at least six feet between every cot. Though it had to move its male guests out of a temporary space at Key Recreation Center on June 10, PACEM will offer shelter for women at Summit House until at least the end of the month.
Thanks to funding from the city, county, and a private donor, PACEM has also housed 30 high-risk homeless individuals in private rooms at a local hotel, in addition to providing them with daily meals and case management. Men who still need shelter after leaving Key Rec have been able to stay at the hotel for at least 30 days.—B.E.
The Sustainers: C’ville Mutual Aid Infrastructure
One of the most heartwarming nationwide responses to COVID-19, and all of the difficulties that came with it, was the widespread creation of mutual aid networks. Charlottesville joined the trend in March, creating a Facebook page for community members to request or offer “time, money, support, and resources.” Since it was launched, the page has gained hundreds of followers, and posts have ranged from pleas for a place to sleep to the donation of a
half-used Taco Bell gift card. The page’s moderators have also shared resources such as a continually updated list of when and where food-insecure community members can access pantries. Though it came about through dire circumstances, the C’ville Mutual Aid Infrastructure network is proof that our community looks after its own.—D.G.
Howie and Diane Long. Photo: Keith Sparbanie/AdMedia
The Nourishers: School lunches
Before COVID, over 6,000 students relied on our public schools for free (or reduced price) breakfast and lunch. To make sure no student has gone hungry since schools closed in March, Charlottesville City Schools and Albemarle County Public Schools have given away thousands of grab-and-go breakfasts and lunches to anyone under age 18, regardless of family income. With the help of school staff and volunteers, both districts have set up dozens of food distribution sites, as well as sent buses out on delivery routes every week. During spring break, when CCS was unable to distribute food, Pearl Island Catering and Mochiko Cville—backed by the Food Justice Network and area philanthropists Diane and Howie Long—stepped up and provided 4,000 meals to kids in neighborhoods with large numbers enrolled in free and reduced-price meal programs. Even though students are now on summer break, that hasn’t slowed down staff and volunteers, who are still hard at work—both districts plan to keep the free meal programs going until the fall.—B.E.
The Superheroes: Frontline workers
After Governor Ralph Northam issued his stay-at-home order in March, most Charlottesvillians did just that: stayed at home. But the city’s essential workers didn’t have that luxury. In the language of Northam’s executive order, these are employees of “businesses not required to close to the public.” Frontline workers’ jobs vary widely, from health care professionals to grocery store cashiers, but they all have one thing in common: The people who do them are required to put on their scrubs or their uniform and go into their physical place of employment every day, while the rest of us work from the safety of our sofa in a pair of sweatpants. Their reality is one that the majority of us haven’t experienced—and the least we can do is thank these workers for keeping our city running.—D.G.
Jim Hingeley. Photo: Elli Williams
The Reformers: Commonwealth’s attorneys/Albemarle-Charlottesville Regional Jail
The area’s commonwealth’s attorneys are some of the most powerful people you might never have heard of. During normal times, Albemarle’s Jim Hingeley and Charlottesville’s Joe Platania have tremendous influence over sentencing decisions for those on trial in their localities. They’ve both worked toward progressive reforms since taking office, but since the pandemic took hold, they’ve accelerated their efforts.
The effect has been especially pronounced at the Albemarle-Charlottesville Regional Jail. Under the guidance of the commonwealth’s attorneys and Jail Superintendent Martin Kumer, around 90 inmates have been transferred to house arrest. As prisons across the state have fought coronavirus outbreaks, the ACRJ has yet to report a single case among those incarcerated.
“It’s a shame that it took this crisis to motivate the community to get behind decarceration,” Hingeley said at a panel in May, “but it’s happened now, and when the crisis has passed, we’re going to work to continue doing this.”—B.H.
Zyahna Bryant. Photo: Eze Amos
The Voices: Charlottesville Twitter
“Twitter isn’t real life,” some say. (Most often, they say it on Twitter.) But Charlottesville’s ever-growing group of dedicated tweeters has recently used the platform to make real-life change.
The synergy between social media and protest is well-documented, and the demonstrations against police brutality that have taken place across town have been organized and publicized on Twitter, as well as on other social media platforms. Meanwhile, people like Matthew Gillikin, Rory Stolzenberg, and Sarah Burke have used Twitter to call out the police department for botching its collaboration with state forces and dragging its heels on revealing important budget details. And Molly “@socialistdogmom” Conger—perhaps Charlottesville Twitter’s most recognizable avatar—continues to digest and interpret dense city government meetings for the public, making real-life advocacy easier for everyone.
The effect is felt on UVA Grounds, as well—this month, tweeters shamed the university into changing its new athletics logo to remove a reference to the school’s historic serpentine walls, which were designed to conceal enslaved laborers. After UVA abruptly laid off its dining hall contract employees in March, outraged tweeters raised tens of thousands of dollars for those workers, while pushing the university to create an emergency contract worker assistance fund. And recently, Zyahna Bryant drew attention to UVA President Jim Ryan’s limp response to the protests that followed the death of George Floyd, when she tweeted her resignation from the school’s President’s Council on University Community Partnerships. Keep tweeting, people. It’s working.—B.H.
Updated 6/24 to clarify which organizers were responsible for recent demonstrations to support Black Lives Matter.
Almost 20 years ago, clergy members at downtown churches became concerned about the men and women they frequently found sleeping in church doorways when they arrived at work in the morning. As faith leaders, they wanted to provide a better kind of shelter, so they teamed up with the Thomas Jefferson Area Coalition for the Homeless, and created a new, grassroots organization they named PACEM.
PACEM stands for People and Congregations Engaged in Ministry, but it’s also the Latin word for peace—what the program hopes to provide to dozens of people who would otherwise be sleeping on the streets. Each week, a rotating group of churches and community groups provides a hot dinner and beds for the night. Caseworkers also help guests address their needs and work towards finding permanent housing.
PACEM was originally designed to run only in the coldest months, from October to April, but this year the organization is hoping to extend the season to provide year-round shelter to those who need it. And women’s case manager Heather Kellams is also advocating for a permanent shelter for women, who have been seeking shelter in rising numbers recently, and who face unique challenges living on the street.
To meet their new goals, they’ll need more local support. But if the past is any indication, that’s a challenge Charlottesville is well-equipped to meet.
With more than 80 churches and local groups involved to date, PACEM is a prime example ofa community stepping up to take care of its most vulnerable, one that’s especially welcome as our national leaders attempt to make a virtue out of callous indifference and cruelty.
Whether it’s a new shelter, a new park, or a new monument, Charlottesville is still small enough, and certainly wealthy enough, that we can mobilize to make the changes we want to see.
Women’s case manager Heather Kellams hopes PACEM is able to extend its season, as well as build a permanent, year-round women’s shelter. PC: Eze Amos
Last August, Chinikqua Joseph’s Buckingham County home burned down. Thankfully, no one was injured or killed by the fire, but she, along with her mother and godmother, lost everything. They were homeless.
While looking for housing, Joseph stayed with friends, and later with a boyfriend. When that relationship became abusive, she had to find a new place to stay. Joseph has epilepsy, so it’s difficult for her to hold down a job, and she had trouble saving money for housing.
Just when she thought she would have no choice but to live on the street, Joseph learned about PACEM (People and Congregations Engaged in Ministry), which works with local congregations and community groups to provide overnight shelter, as well as food and resources, for the homeless during the colder months.
Joseph is part of a startling rise in the number of local women seeking shelter at PACEM, says executive director Jayson Whitehead. In 2015, an average of 8 women per night sought shelter through PACEM, while in 2018 and 2019 the nightly average was 15. Last season, PACEM sheltered 73 women total. So far this year, the average has been 16 women per night.
In response to the growing need, advocates like Heather Kellams, PACEM’s women’s case manager, are hoping to extend the organization’s season, which currently ends in April, as well as build a permanent, year-round women’s shelter in Charlottesville.
“Women are really the most vulnerable population,” Kellams says. She attributes the rise in those seeking shelter to a variety of causes, from domestic violence to mental illness to opioid addiction. Behind those, “it’s usually deep-rooted trauma,” she says. “When you start to peel back the skin of the onion of every woman, you find that these are women who are really just in fear and hurt, that are just striving for somewhere to…rebuild and enrich their lives.”
“The current [PACEM] model is transient and doesn’t really lend itself for a woman to be able to nest and grow,” Kellams says. And other local women’s shelters do not fully meet the need either. The Salvation Army’s shelter requires guests to pass a drug screen and breathalyzer, and the Shelter for Help in Emergency offers temporary housing only to victims of domestic violence.
Kellams envisions a small shelter that would provide counseling and health care, and connect guests to work opportunities and community resources. Like PACEM’s current program, it would be low-barrier, meaning it would not require ID or screen for alcohol or drug use.
“I see deep potential in how [guests] could really develop and be positive, productive citizens, and heal from deep trauma, and actually return to their previous lives…but they won’t be able to do that unless they have a healing base that they can call their home,” Kellams says, “It’s the responsibility of our community to keep these women safe and not turn them out to the streets.”
Tamie Edwards has experienced the dangers of living on the street. After her husband was murdered last January in Charlottesville, Edwards could no longer afford to remain in their home. With no place to stay, she soon discovered PACEM, which gave her a place to sleep.
She left, briefly, when she got involved in another relationship. But that relationship turned abusive, and living on the Downtown Mall left her vulnerable to harassment and assault.
After nearly a month, Edwards returned to PACEM for help.
“I haven’t been able to find housing because of my income…I [receive] $700 a month” from SSI, Edwards says. “There are a lot of ladies in my situation…so having a women’s shelter would be really awesome.”
Kellams hopes to find a benefactor or partner who can purchase or donate an existing building to use for the shelter, pointing to other local organizations, such as On Our Own, that have followed that model. But she says PACEM also plans to start a fundraising campaign soon, in case it’s necessary to rent or buy a building.
In the meantime, PACEM has been working to expand its services and programs for women. Every Monday, it hosts Sister Circle, which helps participants “learn about their strengths,” and “teaches them about wellness, and other types of life skills,” Kellams says. The women also do community service projects, as well as fun activities.
“Sister Circle is a positive group to be a part of. It’s great to be able to gather and release onto other women in need of support,” Joseph says. “The circle allows us to share our vision of what it means to be a competent woman, and that competence is within all of us.”
PACEM also seeks to raise awareness about its need for more host sites, as well as a permanent women’s shelter.
“We hope by making the public aware of what we’re doing…that folks will step up and support what we’re doing,” says Whitehead. “It is something we really need the community at large to embrace…we can’t do this by ourselves.”
Correction February 26: Eight women per night and 15 women per night sought shelter through PACEM in 2015 and 2018/2019, respectively, not eight and 15 women total. This year, an average of 16 women have sought shelter through PACEM per night, not 16 women total.
Kitchen manager Dee Dee Slezak arrives at 5am to lead a team of volunteers, who make “magical breakfasts” out of food donations from Trader Joe’s, Market Street Market, and various local restaurants and caterers.
Photos by Zack Wajsgras
In January, The Haven will celebrate 10 years of serving homeless and extremely low-income people in the heart of Charlottesville.
As the Downtown Mall has been revitalized, the area has become increasingly expensive, home to luxury residences like C&O Row and the 550. The Haven, in a 19th-century church at First and Market streets, is both a stark reminder of those left behind by Charlottesville’s growing wealth and lack of affordable housing, and a beautiful example of community and kindness.
The Haven is a low-barrier shelter, meaning it accepts everyone who walks in, even if they’re drunk or high. It serves a free hot breakfast 365 days a year, and offers guests (the preferred term for people who access its services)a place to shower, do laundry, store their possessions, get mail, and use the internet. Staff connect people to services for mental health, substance abuse, job training, and medical care. And they administer several housing programs to help guests get and keep a permanent place to live.
“This is a community in which our first goal is to care for each other, to treat each other with respect,” says operations director Owen Brennan. “So beyond the services, at base this is a place where we want folks to feel like they belong, where they feel at home, and where they’re always welcome.”
At 6:30 on a cold December morning, it’s still dark, and Charlottesville’s streets are quiet. In the basement of The Haven, light shines through the windows like a beacon.
Inside, David Slezak, a retired Latin teacher who wears purple Converse sneakers and a slender gold chain over his T-shirt and jeans, has been in the kitchen since 5. Coffee is brewing and the team of four volunteers, all women, are busy washing dishes, shredding turkey, and toasting bread on the griddle. Slezak, who goes by Dee Dee, is surveying the latest pile of food donations heaped on one of the kitchen’s metal work tables.
“Now, I don’t know what I’m going to do with two gallons of molasses,” he muses.
Slezak, 72, has been volunteering with The Haven since it opened, and was hired as kitchen manager in 2016. He makes what one staffer refers to as “magical breakfasts” out of the sometimes odd assortment of donations from local restaurants, caterers, and church dinners that supplement the staples. “We’ve been known to have salmon, scallops,” he says. “Once we got two bushels of crabs donated from a local restaurant. I reheated them and we got out the hammers and the newspapers and had Maryland crabs.”
This morning, there’s turkey in gravy, cheesy asparagus, and buttered cabbage, along with the usual eggs, toast, and grits. “I try to serve two proteins every day, and two vegetables,” Slezak says. There are strawberries and whipped cream, yogurt and granola.
Eggs are cooked to order.
After the front doors open, at 6:45, guests start filing in, filling mugs with coffee and taking seats at the big round tables. Breakfast is served starting at 7:30, but there’s already cereal out, and trays of donated Christmas cookies. Several guests pause by the kitchen to say hello and good morning.
Mark Malawa, a slender man in a baseball cap and glasses, sticks his head through the door.
“What do you need?” Slezak asks.
“A milk and an Ensure?” Malawa asks. “If you can help me; I’m going to be gone all day.”
“You want food to go? I can put a little plate together for you,” Slezak says.
“Whatever you can do, I’m grateful.”
Malawa used to work for PACEM, the nonprofit group that provides overnight shelter at local churches from October through March, but recently he’s become a guest himself.
Slezak grabs a takeout container and fills it with turkey, cabbage, toast, and a fried egg. He doesn’t forget the fork.
“This is more than breakfast to a lot of people,” he says later, noting that many pack extra food to take to work.
At 7:15, everything is ready, and Slezak lifts up the metal shutter between the kitchen and the dining room. “This is our dinner bell,” he says, smiling, as the metal clanks loudly into place. “I wish it was a little more romantic.”
Volunteer Janice Pfund serves breakfast.
For the next hour or so, the volunteers are busy filling plates, taking requests, replenishing mugs
“White or wheat?’
“Do you want the turkey on top, or on the side?”
“We don’t have oats, but we have Cream of Wheat, is that okay?”
When you’re living on the street, Slezak says, “you have so few choices.” So he cooks eggs to order. “You need a scrambled egg, you need an over easy, you need a sunny side up, we’re going to do that for you.”
Cleveland Michie, 62, used to buy breakfast at McDonald’s, until a homeless friend told him about The Haven. Michie is “housed,” but lives alone and is battling lung cancer. “I can’t afford good, nutritious food,” he says. He’s been eating breakfast at The Haven every day for the last two years, and says his appetite has increased and he’s gained “at least 10 pounds.”
“Dee Dee and Ellen [Hickman, a kitchen volunteer], they serve deeply, with honesty and love,” he says. “They have smiles, they don’t make you feel bad or look down on you. And they know the kitchen.”
Slim and neatly dressed, with glasses and graying hair, Michie says he gives back by offering free haircuts to other guests, as well as to residents at area nursing homes.
“If I ran across a lot of money,” he says, “I’d build a building just like this.”
***
Volunteers Lizzie Weschler (left) and Riley Goodwin help out at the front desk. Throughout the morning, guests stop by to check their mail, make appointments, ask for toiletries and towels to take a shower, or get clean socks, underwear, and other clothes.
By 8:30, breakfast is winding down. Riley Goodwin and Lizzie Weschler, high school students from St. Anne’s, make their way to the front desk. They’re in the midst of a three-week “intensive” on reimagining community service, so they’re staffing the front desk every morning, while two other students help out in the kitchen, on the prep shift for tomorrow’s breakfast.
Guests stop by to sign in and ask for towels, shampoo, razors, and soap, so they can take a shower. They use the hand sanitizer on the corner of the desk, ask for socks and ibuprofen.
“Can I get a shirt?” one man asks. Goodwin disappears into the long, narrow room behind the desk, which is stocked with supplies from underwear to hats. She emerges a couple minutes later with a hooded sweatshirt.
“No shirts, but we have a hoodie,” she says.
“Awesome, that’ll work.”
The girls field a call from someone looking for dental care (they connect the caller with the Charlottesville Free Clinic) and refer someone else with a housing question to Herb Dickerson, the shift supervisor, who’s been working at The Haven almost as long as it’s been open.
“I’m pretty much like a walking resource manual, if you will,” he says. “I direct people to whatever services they need, keep trouble down.”
Guests ask for their mail (they can use The Haven as their mailing address) or for a cup of detergent to do laundry. There are three washers and dryers, and people like Dickerson make sure guests move their loads through promptly.
Monday through Wednesday, Dickerson works the floor, and on Thursdays and Fridays he does community outreach, working with ex-offenders, substance abusers, and people with HIV/AIDS. An ex-offender himself, Dickerson says “I’ve lived on the streets. I understand being homeless.” When people come in, he says, “The first thing they need is rest.”
Later, a guest who introduces himself as Tim lingers by the desk, serenading the students with a couple Christmas songs. “This is a place where you can chill,” he says. “It’s a blessing to have a place like this.”
***
Volunteers Anne Cressin (left) and John Rogers, who also provides free counseling, sort through mail for guests. Many use The Haven as their mailing address. Along the left wall, more than 70 bins provide personal storage for guests (there’s a waiting list).
The Haven was born when Hollywood director and UVA alum Tom Shadyac returned to Charlottesville to film Evan Almighty in 2005, and decided he wanted to do something to help local people experiencing homelessness. He purchased the First Christian Church, and The Haven opened in 2010, part of the Thomas Jefferson Coalition for the Homeless.
At the time, says current executive director Stephen Hitchcock, the public library was the de facto low barrier day shelter in town, as it is in many cities. All along, the intention was to not only provide basic services to the homeless, but to incorporate housing programs that would help get them out of it, to “see homelessness as a circumstance, not a condition,” Hitchcock says.
The Haven became an independent nonprofit in 2014, and it now administers two federal housing grants: the Rapid Rehousing Program, which provides temporary subsidies for people exiting homelessness, and Homelessness Prevention, which is meant to help people at imminent risk of losing their current housing.
“The public perception is we’re a day shelter, but half our operations are helping to get folks into housing and helping to stabilize them once they’re there,” says Brennan.
The Haven follows a “housing first” philosophy, a nationwide trend toward connecting people with housing as soon as possible, rather than waiting until they’re “housing ready” and all their other issues have been resolved.
Staff meet with guests one-on-one to determine what their housing needs are and what resources may be available to help. “Some people only need a little bit of help,” Hitchcock says. Some people make enough income to pay rent, but don’t have the money to put down first month’s rent plus a security deposit. Others are dealing with acute mental health crises or substance abuse. “We’re trying to provide the right amount of help at the right time,” Hitchcock says. And that help can be more than just material.
“A colleague of mine likes to say that people don’t become homeless because they run out of money; people become homeless because they run out of relationships,” says Hitchcock. “I think there’s a lot of truth in that.” He recalls the epigraph to Howard’s End—“only connect.”
“I’m reminded of that all the time,” he says. “What we’re talking about is creating connection. So many folks are disconnected.” That can come from aging out of foster care, or aging alone; it could be because of divorce, or loss of a job, or incarceration. Whatever the reason, “we want to be a place where people can start, or start again.”
***
Guests at a weekly writing group run by Day Shelter Coordinator Rob White (center) in the sanctuary. The space is an extra place for guests to sleep or find quiet during the day, and is also frequently rented out for weddings and community events.
On Mondays at 10am, Day Shelter Coordinator Rob White hosts a writing group in the former sanctuary. The space is large, and beautiful, with beamed ceilings and stained glass windows. The Haven hosts groups and events here throughout the day, like a weekly class on mindful breathing, and monthly touch therapy sessions from Zero Balancing. But it also rents out the space for weddings and community events, like concerts and film screenings. The Village School, a private all-girls middle school down the street, uses it for recitals. “It’s such a cool thing, to hold these things proximate,” says Ocean Aiello, the community outreach director. “Screaming seventh grade girls and a homeless shelter; those things are not usually next to each other.”
Guests here for the writing group gather around a large table, and share their work. A woman named Marie reads a poem, and says she wrote it after getting a cardiovascular stress test. “The doctors told me, ‘You have a fragile heart,’” she says. “Doesn’t everyone have a fragile heart?”
One man reads from an ongoing story he’s writing, and a woman shares a short passage on camping, showing the meticulously drawn rocks she’s sketched in her small notebook.
There’s a new visitor today, Harold Tucker. He’s a large man in a ski cap, with a ruddy face and a mustache that’s turning white. He sits down and immediately starts writing.
He lost his wife three years ago, he tells the group. They were married for 41 years.“Life has gone downward since.” He writes about a dream he had, in which his wife urged him to move on. “I don’t know how to do that,” he says.
Marie tells him he is in the right place. White offers him a journal, and suggests he try writing directly to his wife, in the present tense.
The group has been talking about mindfulness, and today White has a poem for them to read, “The Fish,” by Elizabeth Bishop. It’s a fairly long piece, about catching a fish, one that’s been hooked many times before.
“He’s tired,” Tucker says of the fish. “Like a lot of us are.”
“Every day, you keep hoping things are going to get better,” he says. “But sometimes they don’t.”
Tucker was a truck driver for decades, but after his wife died, he got cancer, and had to get off the road. He’s estranged from his kids, and was sleeping in the park before he got connected with The Haven and PACEM.
White asks him to think of one thing he does, or could do, that would bring him purpose, and Tucker starts talking about kindness, about how he makes an effort to greet people and say good morning.
“That would make a nice poem,” White says. “It does matter.”
The group turns back to the Bishop poem, talking about how she focuses on the moment.
“The whole point of the poem is, don’t give up,” Tucker says.
Marie turns to him with a smile. “See how you get what you need in this class?”
***
Debbie Arrington makes use of The Haven’s laundry room. Guests use a sign up sheet for the washers and dryers, which are typically busy all day.
Kevin Mellette, a wiry man who seems to be constantly in motion, ducks outside for a smoke break in the rain. His official title is facilities manager, but his role seems to encompass a bit of everything: “I do shift supervision, I do security, make sure the building runs properly.”
A certified peer recovery specialist, he provides support for people who are using or suffering from mental health issues. “I’m also a recovering addict, so I kind of know my way around, if you will,” he says. “A great deal of our population—maybe more than 50 percent—suffer from something that is related to some form of trauma. And being homeless, that’s trauma in itself.”
The Haven doesn’t have any official security guards, but Mellette and others, like Dickerson, are in charge of keeping the building safe. “Mr. Dickerson and myself, we’re both from the street, so we have a tendency to be able to come across to people,” Mellette says. If there’s a conflict, he’ll do his best to de-escalate it, and will call the police when needed to escort someone off the property.
Mellette first showed up at The Haven for mandatory community service, through the circuit drug court. He’d been in a worsening cycle of substance abuse and criminal charges. “On this last go round, I decided to do something different,” he says. He’s been clean since September 28, 2015. “The Haven gave me that opportunity, that continuing of care for me. The way I pay it back is by helping others.” He’s been working here for four years now. About The Haven, he says, “I think what it does is, it offers those who are homeless a place in which they can gather themselves. A haven, a place where people can feel safe and deal with whatever trauma they’re going through, without having to be inundated with more trauma.”
***
PACEM guests board a JAUNT bus, headed to a local church where they will sleep for the night. Through PACEM, a rotating group of congregations and community groups provide dinner and shelter for roughly 45 men and 20 women each night. In the morning, they are bused back to The Haven for breakfast.
At 5pm, the Haven staff turns things over to PACEM, whose offices are also in the building. Every night, roughly 45 men and 20 women gather to board JAUNT buses that take them to area churches, which provide dinner and beds for the night. The number of women seeking shelter has gone up sharply in the last couple years, says caseworker Heather Kellams. She’s working to extend PACEM’s season to provide year-round beds for them, while also looking for private funding to create a permanent women’s shelter. “These women…are extremely vulnerable,” she says. “They need a lot of care.”
Like The Haven (and unlike the year-round shelter at The Salvation Army), PACEM is low-barrier. So before loading the buses, Brian Henderson, a seasonal staff member who is simultaneously warm and commanding, asks guests to give him any drugs, alcohol, or other “paraphernalia”they may have in their bags, and to stay in the designated sleeping areas in the churches where they’ll be staying.
The Tuesday before Thanksgiving, Tucker shows up looking for a spot, but the rules have changed and guests are supposed to register earlier in the day. The staff know Tucker, though, and it’s almost Thanksgiving, and there’s an open bed. They let him join.
One phrase Haven staff use to describe their work is “radical hospitality.” “We try to cultivate a culture of accompaniment,” says Hitchcock. “We work to be the kind of community we hope Charlottesville is—to hold out, this is how folks can be with one another across different backgrounds, different ages, races, genders, sexual orientations—you name it, it’s all here.”
It’s a feeling that comes across to many guests, too. “They’re good people,” Tucker says of The Haven staff. Yes, there’s the food and shelter. But he also talks about how they’ve given him bus fare, helped him get his license when his wallet was stolen. “They give me clothes, they give me gloves, let me take a shower, so I feel like I’m human.” He pauses. “So I feel like I’m human. Not just somebody sleeping on the street.”
*
Guest book
Virginia Lypps
Mark Mulawa
Tammy Edwards
Harold Tucker
Joe Bostock
Justin Watkins
Sharon Shelton
Tim Ferguson
Tevin Rogers
“When you see somebody sitting on the street, before you sit there and judge them, know their story.” –A Haven guest
Shift supervisor Herb Dickerson sings as volunteers prepare for the Wednesday lunch café.
Food for the soul
The Haven closes from noon to 1pm, and on Wednesdays, the dining room becomes a lunch café, open to the public for a $10 donation. It’s not a moneymaker, but it’s a chance for guests to get some paid food service experience, setting up, doing dishes, and serving the downtown lunch crowd. And it’s an opportunity for the public to see “a different side of what homelessness looks like,” says Evie Safran, who runs the program.
Like many Haven staff, Safran is a former teacher (she taught public preschool in Charlottesville), but she also had a 30-year catering career. She recruits weekly guest chefs, ranging from local restaurant and corporate chefs to caterers and dedicated home cooks, and the food “runs the gamut from down-home Southern to South Indian vegetarian,” she says.
Lunches also include a salad, sides, delicious homemade limeade, coffee, and dessert.
Like the church rentals, and an annual 8K run in the spring (which features a homemade breakfast in the sanctuary afterwards), it’s a way to bring the broader community into The Haven.
“I met a man who had worked in restaurants his whole life but had had a stroke and lost all ability to use his hands. This struck me to the core—this could be me," says Duner’s executive chef Laura Fonner, who recently launched a program to provide PACEM clients with home-cooked dinners every Tuesday night. Photo by Jackson Smith
Duner’s executive chef Laura Fonner has spearheaded a drive to provide chef-driven, home-cooked suppers for PACEM—an organization that provides cold-weather shelter for the homeless—each Tuesday throughout the winter months. She was inspired to take action after helping to serve at a PACEM dinner late last winter.
“I met a man who had worked in restaurants his whole life but had had a stroke and lost all ability to use his hands,” she says. “This struck me to the core—this could be me. I vowed in that moment that this is something I wanted to get involved in.”
Fonner credits her “secret weapon”—a group of some 80 women in an exercise boot camp she runs in Crozet—with helping launch the program, enabling her to run two shelter dinners (one for men, one for women) in two locations (church members feed PACEM guests on the other nights of the week). Members of Charlottesville Women in Food are also helping with cooking and donations, and Fonner has received food from Autumn Olive Farms, Gryffon’s Aerie, and Sam Rust, as well as financial contributions from The Pie Chest, Tin Whistle Irish Pub, Nona’s Italian Cucina, and Vivace.
With recent donations, the group has also assembled baskets of self-care items and a grab bag of holiday cookies for those staying at PACEM, which moves among various places of worship each week.
Fonner is thrilled to see her dreams so readily turned into reality. “I’m blessed to be surrounded by so many strong and caring women,” she says.
To donate or volunteer, contact Fonner at lfonner23@gmail.com.
Tailgating for change
Trish Clinton—who trained at Tennessee’s famed Blackberry Farm luxury hotel and resort and is now executive chef for Zeta Psi fraternity at UVA—has cooked up a Dave Matthews Band tailgate to benefit Charlottesville’s Sexual Assault Resource Agency. The tailgate will be held at Zeta Psi from 2-4pm on Friday, December 14, before the band’s concert at the John Paul Jones Arena.
Clinton, a self-proclaimed “die-hard” DMB fan, conjured up the plan after becoming frustrated watching the Kavanaugh hearings last fall.
“I found myself angry—you could hear in [Dr. Ford’s] voice what anyone that has experienced sexual assault has felt,” she says. “I needed to do something to make those people feel more supported and put my anger to action. I thought ‘why not combine my loves—food and DMB—to give back?’”
Clinton is partnering with Tailgate Caravan, which has held other philanthropic tailgates at DMB shows, and has tapped into the band’s broad fan base to enlist attendees, with over 100 signed up already (she’s capping it at 200). The suggested minimum donation of $35 per person will cover a full buffet spread, open bar with DMB-themed cocktails and draft beer, and raffle prizes. While fellow members of Charlottesville Women in Food have donated beer and services, Clinton is seeking additional help and donations—large or small—of cash and raffle prizes. For more information, email trishtye@hotmail.com.
