The remnants of Hurricane Helene destroyed thousands of homes during its catastrophic sweep through western North Carolina in September, leaving many people without a fixed residence in a region where homelessness was already on the rise.
The storm displaced residents like Bonnie Goggins Jones, whose mobile home in Buncombe County was rendered uninhabitable by waist-high floodwaters. She and her two teenage grandchildren now stay in a donated camper that Jones keeps parked on the property of a local church.
“Being in a closed-in little spot and it’s something you’re not used to and never stayed in, and not having the clothing or the space to put the stuff that you have, and having kids — it’s just a hard thing,” Jones said of their living situation, adding that she misses the “little yard” and shade-casting trees of her old address in Black Mountain. “I mean, it’s not your home. It’s not like a home. You don’t have your own yard. I can’t even explain it.”
Jones knows she does not fit the stereotypical profile of a person experiencing homelessness. She “makes good money” in her full-time job as a transportation worker for the Asheville City Schools District, she said.
Still, the loss of her home and nearly all of her possessions is a setback that will take more than a few paychecks to recover from. Between keeping her grandchildren fed and filling her camper’s generator with fuel to stay warm during the frigid mountain nights, Jones has little opportunity to save up enough money for a new place.
“It’s a struggle, no matter if you’re working or not,” she said.
Tina Krause, executive director of Hospitality House of Northwest North Carolina, has met dozens of families in similar situations over the past three months. Her organization provides transitional housing services in several of the rural communities that were hit hardest by Helene.
“In the beginning, it was hard for us to identify who was truly displaced and who was going to be able to stay in their home,” she said. “But over the last few weeks, we’ve really seen a lot more movement in people actually coming to the realization that they are not going to be able to live in their home, whether it was a rental home or it was the house that they grew up in.”
Krause has noticed that most of the people currently reaching out to the nonprofit for assistance were not at risk of becoming homeless before the storm. Many of them are working adults with decent incomes or retirees on fixed incomes who had lived for decades in houses that were destroyed.
“There’s definitely a new face to homelessness now,” she said.
A worsening trend
Hospitality House is one of four organizations that are known collectively as a Continuum of Care — community partners that coordinate within an area to address homelessness — in western North Carolina. The Northwest NC Continuum of Care oversees the annual point-in-time count in seven of the counties in the federally declared disaster area for Helene.
Conducted on a single night each January, the point-in-time count is a survey of people who are unsheltered or sleeping in cars, tents and other places not meant for long-term habitation. Data from the count is used by the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development to develop strategies and policies to reduce homelessness.
Numbers from the 2024 count have not yet been finalized by HUD, but an NC Health News analysis of preliminary totals from Hospitality House and other Continuum of Care organizations serving western North Carolina found that at least 2,609 people were experiencing homelessness in the 25 counties that were later included in September’s disaster declaration — a 20 percent increase from 2023’s count of 2,166.
More than 330 people were reported to be homeless across the counties — Alleghany, Ashe, Avery, Mitchell, Watauga, Wilkes and Yancey — served by Hospitality House, up from about 270 people in 2023. Krause said the 22 percent increase was one of the largest ever recorded in her organization’s thinly populated swathe of the state.
“In the past, it may have been an increase of like 10 people,” she said, compared to 60 more in just a year. “This was a significant jump. While homelessness has always been a problem in our communities, we had improved on that number every year until [a couple of years ago] when it started to climb again.”
She believes the spike was caused, in large part, by the expiration of funding from the federal Coronavirus Aid, Relief and Economic Security — or CARES — act. The pandemic-era measure provided money for residents who were at risk of homelessness to stay in hotels to prevent overcrowding at local shelters.
“So many people lost the hotel rooms that were being paid for under that COVID funding,” Krause said, adding that several homeless encampments popped up in the area after the program was discontinued.
Continuum of Care organizations serving other parts of the region also saw significant growth in their homeless populations before the storm — even in communities where the situation had previously appeared to be improving. Data from the Gaston-Lincoln-Cleveland Continuum of Care showed a 21 percent decrease in homelessness in the three counties it serves from 2022 to 2023, but then a 16 percent uptick during this year’s count.
The largest over-the-year increase was recorded by the Asheville-Buncombe Continuum of Care, which went from having 573 residents experiencing homelessness in 2023 to 739 in 2024 — a nearly 29 percent surge. Members of the organization’s leadership said a “change in methodology” contributed to the higher tally.
Hospitality House and the other Continuum of Care entities will conduct the point-in-time count for 2025 in late January. With an untold number of people now displaced by Helene, it is likely to be one of the most difficult counts in the region’s history.
One of the biggest challenges, Krause said, will be finding and counting displaced residents who are staying in hotels with vouchers issued after the storm by the Federal Emergency Management Agency. More than 4,900 people were still participating in the voucher program as of early December, according to FEMA.
“We’re going to have to be very purposeful in looking at who’s in a hotel that’s being paid for by an agency, because those individuals can be counted in the point-in-time because they are literally homeless as long as they’re not paying for the hotel themselves,” Krause said, referring to the definitions of homelessness used by HUD. “We’ll have to increase the number of outreach teams we have going out and actually talking to people to see what their situation is.”
Lack of homes
The upheaval caused by Helene has been exacerbated by the region’s scant inventory of houses and its dearth of affordable rental options.
“We already are in one of the worst markets for rental properties here,” Krause said, adding that apartment seekers — particularly in Watauga County — often find themselves “in competition” with students from Appalachian State University who cannot afford to live on campus. “The availability of housing is just zero at this point.”
The market isn’t much better for buyers. Western North Carolina’s popularity as a tourist destination has made it a lucrative setting for Airbnb operators, who have reduced the region’s long-term housing stock by converting residential units into short-term rentals.
In Asheville, the proliferation of short-term rentals has contributed to an 89 percent spike in home values, which jumped from a median of $199,800 in 2015 to $319,400 in 2021. A housing plan released by the city shortly before the storm noted that home ownership has become “unattainable” for workers earning “a median wage in Asheville’s top industries.”
“We have very high housing costs and very low vacancy rates,” said Emily Ball, manager of the city’s Homeless Strategy Division. “We know from national data that the primary indicator of rates of homelessness in any community are housing costs, and our housing costs have been just through the roof and increasing all the time.”
Ball’s department had been working with the Asheville-Buncombe Continuum of Care to develop strategies to address the city’s growing homeless population, but Helene forced the agencies to shift their focus to more urgent needs. One of the most pressing tasks, she said, was finding a replacement site for a flooded shelter the city operated for people experiencing homelessness in the winter.
“We’re transitioning, I would say, from response to recovery and thinking more about long-term strategic recovery around Helene,” Ball said. “But this has been a very significant event, and it’s really taking up most bandwidth for most people still.”
Raising awareness
Ball believes the disaster has at least led to “heightened awareness” about the basic needs of unsheltered residents.
“Before this storm, it was possible for people to not have a lot of empathy about, ‘If you’re homeless, where do you go to the bathroom, how do you charge your phone, and where are you going to take a shower,’” she said. “After the storm, we all lost power. We all lost water.”
The storm also had something of a silver lining, she said, for people who were already experiencing homelessness in the city.
“I think for a lot of folks who were unsheltered, their situation was probably a bit better after the storm than prior to the storm,” Ball said. “Newly across the community, we have people really caring about things like water and food distribution and the availability of portajohns outside.”
Brian Alexander, project manager for the North Carolina Coalition to End Homelessness and the former executive director of Homeward Bound of Western North Carolina, said Helene made the plight of unsheltered populations hard to ignore.
“People are in such extreme situations, having lost everything that they own, that there is a new awareness of the dangers of these kinds of situations,” he said. “Even though we’ve been living with this and people have seen it for a really long time, now that their neighbors who were housed lost their homes suddenly it’s like, ‘Oh, we’ve got to figure out how to deal with this. We’ve got to figure out how to get these resources so that folks don’t have to do this anymore.’”
In the storm’s wake, there was an outpouring of support from sympathetic citizens and charitable organizations.
Members of a Virginia-based ministry built more than 100 cabins for displaced residents in Black Mountain. Operation Halo, a charity formed in response to the storm, donated more than 160 RVs to people who lost their homes.
But it remains to be seen how long the public’s compassion will last.
“My hope is that long term, that urgency that we feel right now after the storm to get people back in housing extends to our homeless neighbors, too, who have been dealing with this for years in some cases,” said Alexander, who added that “everybody deserves a home.”
This story was made possible through a collaboration with Blue Ridge Public Radio. BRPR’s Gerard Albert contributed reporting from western North Carolina.
This article first appeared on North Carolina Health News and is republished here under a Creative Commons license.