An article in my feed today---
tl;dr version: Fort Worth's housing first model to combat homelessness (2019, $10M of city/private money funded construction of supportive housing; another $50M is going to create 300 more units of affordable housing for the chronically homeless and families, at about $100-$160k/unit.) However, as time passes, the issues that caused an individual to experience homelessness in the first place continue to disrupt normalcy in their lives as they navigate this program.
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Fort Worth had high hopes for new housing model. Tenants say it fell short
As he finally moved into permanent supportive housing in northwest Fort Worth three years ago, Lorenzo Williams said he felt “blessed and joyful.”
Homeless since 2017, he struggled with drug addiction resulting in multiple stints in jail and health complications. Quail Trail, an apartment complex near River Oaks, was his opportunity to live in a home with a plug for his heart monitor.
Just one year later, at age 66, Williams died in his Quail Trail apartment from a cocktail of drugs.
“He was a decent human being,” said Tanya Parsons, who spent time at the property and knew Williams. “He fell through the f— cracks.”
Current residents, neighbors and a former employee say what started as a well-intentioned project by the nonprofit New Leaf Community Services to help the city’s chronically homeless was marred by a lack of resources and expertise. Now, its new owner, Presbyterian Night Shelter, is working to rebuild tenant trust as it improves the safety and security of the development after taking over in October 2023.
New Leaf Community Services was formed in 2019 by the late housing advocate Flora Brewer alongside several concerned residents affiliated with First Presbyterian Church. They raised money to build 48 units of permanent supportive housing on Quail Trail and operated the property for about two years.
Documents obtained by the Fort Worth Report and interviews with tenants reveal during those initial years, residents were victims of assault, harassment and burglary at the hands of their fellow tenants and trespassers. Steve Christian, chair of the New Leaf board, knew from previous experience working with the chronically homeless that creating a safe environment at Quail Trail would be difficult.
When Brewer, the group’s housing expert, fell ill and stepped back from the project, New Leaf struggled to meet the needs of their tenants.
“Right now, this is the best we’ve been able to do … get folks that are chronically homeless in safe housing, with full-time counseling and to try to provide a soft landing, a safe place for them to be in to get some of the help they need,” Christian said in a recent interview, reflecting on the history of the project. “We’re trying to help them, but not everybody is capable of staying in it, which has been a learning curve.”
In 2019, New Leaf Community Services hired DRC Solutions, a local nonprofit focused on mental health and homelessness, to provide two case managers to oversee 48 tenants. Pride Property Management was hired to maintain the property.
Pride Property Management did not respond to several requests for comment.
Properties like Quail Trail are the city’s best tool to reduce the number of chronically homeless individuals living and dying on Fort Worth’s streets. Still, it requires significant resources and expertise, local housing experts said.
The true power of housing like Quail Trail can be found in the story of a woman with stage four cancer, who died in her unit surrounded by hospice care and family instead of on the street in a tent, said Toby Owen, CEO of Presbyterian Night Shelter.
“I would rather her pass away in her unit, in her home than somewhere else out in the middle of nowhere,” Owen said. “That is permanent supportive housing.”
Violence, lack of security left residents feeling unsafe
Calls to police in the Quail Trail neighborhood have nearly tripled in the two years after the development opened compared to the years before the project was built. Quail Trail residents paint a picture of unsafe and unclean living spaces, assaults by other residents, trespassing and apathetic on-site case managers.
The Fort Worth Report requested 12 police incident reports generated by officers between February and June 2023 at the Quail Trail properties. Most were either completely or partially redacted. One mostly redacted report describes a Quail Trail tenant bleeding from the head, claiming another individual slammed her against a wall.
Anthony Ray Henson was the subsequent tenant of the Quail Trail apartment where Lorenzo Williams overdosed. Henson joked that Williams’ spirit was still there, haunting the 450-square-foot space where both men had sought a safe place to live.
Henson was recently evicted from the apartment as a result of an altercation with another resident. He was arrested in November and charged with a felony for aggravated assault with a deadly weapon.
He denies assaulting another resident with a knife and is currently free on bond. His case is pending in the 297th District Court. Henson could face up to life in prison because he’s a repeat felon.
Now, he’s back to living on the street, mostly sticking around the Quail Trail neighborhood.
Henson’s eviction was part of Presbyterian Night Shelter’s efforts to evict problematic residents who contributed to Quail Trail’s unsafe environment, Owen said.
“The tenants have to go along with (the rules). And most do — there are some that don’t want to,” he said. “If you commit a criminal act on the property and you’re arrested, you will be evicted.”
Carol Canoe has lived at Quail Trail for over two years. She keeps to herself, avoiding the neighbors she routinely witnessed fighting. While Canoe has been able to maintain sobriety through the support of case managers and My Health My Resources, the transition to living at Quail Trail is hard for most formerly homeless people, she said. Tenants struggling with loneliness go to Lancaster Avenue before returning to Quail Trail to sleep.
It’s all they know, Canoe said.
“People who have been on the street for their whole lives, how do you teach them to live a normal life?” Canoe said. “Be consistent with the security, and be consistent with your case managers. Because they are coming from a place with no consistency.”
Conflicts between residents at Quail Trail are routine, several residents told the Report — a problem exacerbated by a lack of control over accessibility to the property, they said. Residents reported that, in the past, people without a lease stayed on the property for long periods.
Of the 101 emergency calls placed to law enforcement from Quail Trail since it opened, six involved an assault or deadly weapon.
Resident Barbara Hall described an altercation in November 2022 that escalated when she swung a bat against a man she claims trespassed on her home. The case was later dismissed.
She tearfully described fearing for her life as she was handcuffed and arrested. She denied hitting the alleged trespasser with the bat.
“He wasn’t supposed to be there,” Hall said through tears. “Why am I in jail with my lip busted open? And I don’t know if I died or not. That scared me because I blacked out.”
Hall felt fearful in her home and said the case managers and staff were dismissive when she raised safety concerns.
Non-tenants agree changes were necessary at Quail Trail
Amada Saldaña, a former maintenance worker at Quail Trail and a recovering addict, wanted to help those experiencing the same things she went through. She ended up taking a job with Pride Property Management, which previously managed the site.
“I was ecstatic. I heard sober living, like ‘OK, maybe I can make a difference here,’” she said.
It took less than four months on the job for her to start questioning the safety of the property. She described the property’s condition and treatment of residents as degrading. Keys to the units were accessible to anybody and routinely stolen, leading to robberies and confrontations, she said.
“The way they talk to these people was horrible. It hurt me to watch them talk to these people this way because I’ve been in their shoes,” Saldaña said. “I don’t judge them. I get it. I’m not here to knock you dude, I’m here to help you. But nobody will listen to them.”
etc, etc, etc.
--137.118.xx.xxx