Modern complications to a timeless issue

Fall is officially here. This morning was especially crisp, and even in the sun, I'm glad I wore layers.

As my thoughts frequently return to my projects, I found myself pondering one last week at the Springfield City Council meeting. I had come over to learn more about the unhoused people in Sangamon County and the situations the community were facing.

When I was at the crisis nursery, I sat on the SEED initiative - a deflection program piloted by the Springfield Police Department and area organizations. The hope is to reduce police interactions with unhoused people, especially those with mental health concerns or substance abuse issues.

Now - while a lot of positive has come of this program - including more help to the homeless liaison office - our unhouse friends made the news again.

There's a spot on 5th and North Grand - a popular hangout, especially during the summer months. The other day, there were some concerns, and items were removed from that area.

There's been controversy from both sides - concern for trashing unhoused people's belongings and legitimate public safety concerns with drug use and trafficking.

As I sat through the meeting, hearing areas we can improve and the difficulty of the situation - my thoughts wandered to a cemetery I need to circle back to soon.

In 1851, after receiving scathing remarks for holding the poor and mentally unwell in the Sangamon County Jail's squalid conditions from Dorothea Dix no less, the county opened the "Two Mile House." An old tavern converted to care for those unhoused, it originally sat at what is now the Illinois State Fairgrounds. Soon, the poor house needed more space, and the and it sat on was needed for other uses.

A large parcel of land was purchased out by Buffalo, and a large home was erected. There, the residents were moved in 1870.

Away from the growing city - the residents of the poor farm were cared for, to varying degrees of competency shown by it's administrators through the years. At some points, the poor farm was lauded as a state-of-the-art treatment facility. At other times during its history, it was described as shoddy and barbaric.

What happened to the people that lived at the poor farm? Today, they are buried in unmarked graves at the end of an unused township road. The house was finally torn down in 2015 - simply a brick shell at that point.

But the issue of the unhoused still remains in Sangamon County.

Last night, I heard the echoes of the poor farm - that these people need to work, get treatment, pull themselves up. That was the concept of the poor farm. Anyone destitute could find a home there, working for the household to earn their keep. A noble idea, and one that works for many.

Looking at records, we see that many people who were "dropped off" at the poor farm were soon collected by a family member. For those experiencing a poor turn of luck - it was a temporary respite for a while.

However, the records show a clear problem with this mentality.

"old & infirm"

"insane"

"destitud with child"

"parlised"

So many people dropped off at the poor house came to be there because they couldn't support themselves. An old unmarried man who cannot walk will happily shell peas, but cannot hoe the field. A malnourished mom with a colicky baby may not have a moment to wash and fold sheets.

That's the issue that remains - how do we best support the community members who have no support?

Thankfully, today we have a better understanding of mental health and treatment options. But many still fall through the wide cracks in the American health care system. Not to mention a fundamental lack of trust between those experiencing homelessness and those trying to help.

And after attending last week's meeting - I know we are doing as well as we can with the limitations currently.

Two thoughts, though. Looking at the current resources available to Sangamon County's unhoused population, there is something missing - a day center. A safe place for friends to hang out during the day, year-round. A place to lock up their items if they can't take them to a shelter. Access to computers and printers to access healthcare, classes, and job boards.

The second thought - I'm still puzzling over. How do we help those unhoused and on the sex offender registry? Very few good options are available to them, yet they are still members of our community who deserve a safe place to sleep and be human.

Driving home, I pass the dark hill and copse of trees - all that's left of the poor farm today. I haven't forgotten about them and clearing the brush from their graves. And I'm not going to forget our current friends who find themselves in similar situations.