For homeless agency, the focus is on permanence

For the past five years, Father Bills Place in Quincy has sheltered fewer and fewer homeless people, with the goal shifting to permanent, not emergency, housing. Just over a year ago, it merged with MainSpring in Brockton to create a super-agency dealing with the South Shore's homeless.

The president, John Yazwinski, was elated. Father Bills had been ahead of the curve in its Housing First program, which provides the homeless with homes, not just a bed for the night. With the merger, more units can be funded. As one agency, Father Bills & MainSpring offers emergency shelter for singles and families, along with transitional and permanent housing. There are special units for veterans, victims of domestic violence, and teens in trouble.

Just six months ago, Yazwinski proudly announced the findings of a University of Massachusetts at Boston study: The quality of life for homeless people improved dramatically under Housing First, which is also $3,500 per person cheaper than housing them in shelters.

"I think what makes Father Bills & MainSpring a strong entity is that we're trying to end this problem of homelessness, not just continue to manage it," he said at the time. "We're trying to take the shelter sign down."

But everything has changed. While some worry about their retirement accounts, others worry about finding a bed for the night. The huge losses that hit Wall Street swept away many of the gains made on behalf of society's poorest. Some have lost jobs or had their work hours cut. Others lived in rental apartments where the landlords were foreclosed on. At Father Bills, there's a line again every night. Shelter visits are up 30 percent over this time last year. The picture is bleak. The shelter sign remains firmly in place.

"We're already at winter numbers," said Yazwinski. "I don't know how we're going to get everyone indoors." Father Bills has 75 beds and is now averaging 105 men and women a night; MainSpring's emergency shelter has 51 beds, and is averaging 85 people a night.

Dismayed and dejected, Yazwinski called in help. That would be the Rev. William McCarthy, who founded the shelter in Quincy in 1982. And Marie Sheehan, who helped start MainSpring Coalition for the Homeless in Brockton at the same time.

Father Bill is 81, semiretired, and living on the Cape. Sheehan is 82 and living in Stoughton near one of her shelters. When they first made plans to help the homeless, citizens and even some public officials reacted with anger and fear, calling them names and saying even worse things about those they referred to as "bums" and "criminals" who would "destroy" their neighborhoods. There were threats and court cases.

Guess what? Twenty-five years later, the neighborhoods are still standing.

McCarthy and Sheehan had not seen each other in a decade, but they met again recently with Yazwinski at Evelyn House, a cheery family shelter in Stoughton run by Father Bills & MainSpring. "We need you both now as much as people needed you 30 years ago," Yazwinski told them. He laid out the grim picture: State money for permanent housing is in jeopardy, and the agency's emphasis for now has shifted back to emergency beds. "We're trying to save lives one night at a time."

The two older leaders were adamant: Permanent housing is still the answer. "We need to keep families together," said McCarthy. "Shelter's a dirty word to them. They want a place of their own."

Recently, the agency took a family living in a tent in Wompatuck State Park and paid for two weeks in a motel. The hope is to find them housing, but where?

Sheehan began her shelter work in the early 1980s, and she traces the root problems back to that era. "This started when Ronald Reagan came in and he cut housing and mental health. Things never recovered."

Yazwinski pressed her for ideas. "Get a list of churches and social service agencies in the area," she said. "Ask for donations. People are good-hearted. Tell them how terrible the situation is." This is precisely what she and McCarthy did decades ago.

In fact, McCarthy never stopped. A prodigious fund-raiser who will ask anyone for anything, he recently got into trouble while recuperating from hip surgery in a nursing home. His crime? Using a prohibited cellphone to call his regular donors. Few people say no to him. (A police officer once jokingly asked McCarthy if he had a gun permit. "For what?" asked the priest. "Because you hold up everyone you see," was the reply.)

Both McCarthy and Sheehan were children during the Depression and have been through bleak times before. But they never thought those shelters they founded years ago would still be housing so many more people. They had hoped temporary would turn into permanent.

Yazwinski was direct with them: He asked the two to write letters, make speeches, and attend a December fund-raiser for the homeless to be held in Brockton. They seemed amenable. Father Bill had one last piece of advice for him and everyone else: "Just pray things get better."

Last week, Father Bills & Mainspring broke ground in Brockton on a development that will provide housing for 32 men and women: homeless veterans and those in the agency's work-training program. It's a leap of faith. Though they have the pledges from HUD and the state, the money isn't in their pockets yet.

"We're going ahead with it," said Yazwinski. "Because housing, not shelter, is the answer."

Bella English writes from Milton. She can be reached at english@globe.com.