Can Housing First work in the face of Clark county’s fentanyl crisis? Residents say apartments are rife with drug use and crime

The Pacific is among Vancouver Housing Authority apartment complexes operating under the Housing First model, which offers homeless people a stable place to live without prerequisites like sobriety. Supporters of the model say it improves lives. Residents and neighbors of Housing First complexes say the reality is more complicated — that the model’s permissiveness, especially in the midst of the fentanyl crisis, can be dangerous. They’re calling for better security and accountability.

“I feel like I’m suffering more now than I did when I was homeless,” Leonard said. “A lot of us have worked so hard to build up our lives and move forward, but I feel like living here is destroying all that work.”

The Columbian visited two of Vancouver’s Housing First apartment buildings, The Pacific and The Meridian, more than a dozen times since February, both at night and during the day. The Columbian witnessed a shooting, drug use and other crimes. But The Columbian also saw residents engaging with supportive services and taking steps forward despite challenges.

Andy Silver, Vancouver Housing Authority’s CEO, said Housing First is a successful way to get people off the streets. Last year, Housing First apartments took 122 homeless people into permanent supportive housing.

“The model is thinking: Aren’t people going to be more likely to have success with these other challenges they face in life, if we can get them into a stable and safe place first?” Silver said. “There’s no way to solve homelessness without housing that is low-barrier. I don’t think that’s ever going to change.”

Housing helps recovery

The Housing First model was born in the 1990s and quickly spread around the world. Clark County adopted it in the 2010s.

Before this model, outreach workers transitioned people from shelters to permanent housing only after they resolved their substance use or mental illness. However, many never completed treatment.

“There were success stories in that model that were wonderful,” Silver said. “But the vast majority of people never made it to the end of that process, and then a lot of people never even started the process.”

In 2016, VHA opened Lincoln Place, its first Housing First building. Despite some initial challenges, Silver said, it has been a success overall. Today, VHA has nine Housing First buildings with about 380 units. VHA partners with local agencies to provide on-site supportive services, such as treatment for addiction of mental illness, for residents who want it.

The model has a track record of keeping people in housing. For example, The Pacific retained 92 percent of its residents in 2023. Unlike clean-and-sober living, this model doesn’t require treatment first, making the exit from homelessness more sustainable in practice.

“We’ve had a lot of success stories but also we have a lot of people who are still sort of facing those challenges and struggling,” Silver said. “The concept of engaging in services is fluid. A lot of times if somebody is sort of resistant to participating in services. It’s often a trust issue, maybe past bad experiences. It certainly could be a mental illness becoming a barrier, too. But the idea is that those ever-present services are building that relationship and trust.”

Housing First buildings have seen a 28 percent increase in residents accessing mental health services, according to a study by the National Alliance to End Homelessness.

“There’s been a shooting,” he said.

Outside, a small group of residents huddled on the sidewalk watching police officers with K-9 units. Other residents peered through curtains or hung their bodies over railings to get a better look of the chaos.

The shooting occurred across the street in The Meridian’s courtyard.

Rumors swirled on the street — a drug deal gone bad, one resident told The Columbian. According to police reports, a man attempted to buy $120 worth of drugs with counterfeit cash. A conflict ensued, and the seller ended up with a bullet through his hand from the buyer. The shooter fled.

“This happens every week,” said Leonard, who shook her head as she stared at the building across the street. “If it’s not here, I hear gunshots nearby. How are you supposed to feel safe?”

Three days later, the following Monday, The Columbian found the scene still unsettled, with specks of blood staining a planter despite attempts to clean it.

“We agree with (residents) concerns that right now there isn’t the type of environment that we would like at The Meridian and The Pacific — specifically an environment that would help foster recovery and be a place where people can achieve different things that they want to achieve in their lives,” Silver said.

VHA has begun restricting entry to several of its complexes with keypads that require residents to enter a code to get in. Several complexes have garden-style apartments with front doors opening outside, a style Silver said VHA chose so residents didn’t feel trapped.

“The result of all that was what was intended in theory, didn’t work out in practice. What happened in practice was a real lack of control of the outside areas of these buildings,” Silver said. “Right now, any future (permanent supportive housing) is going to be controlled access.”

Silver said VHA and the city of Vancouver are partnering to eliminate criminal activity around the buildings.

“If we’re successful, what I believe is going to happen is a couple months from now these activities aren’t going to be happening around the building,” Silver said.

Drugs and mental health

During its visits, The Columbian saw leftover needles or foil (used for smoking fentanyl) littering The Pacific property and adjacent streets.

Leonard’s frustration with the garbage led her to start cleaning while walking her dog. A nearby company noticed and hired her to clean its frequently littered parking lot.

“One morning I’m walking around, and I stepped over a guy I thought was sleeping. I tried to wake him up but then realized he was dead. He was blue. He was probably 14 or 15 years old. I stopped cleaning up after that,” Leonard said.

“It sort of is this cycle. Our goal at this point — which is kind of sad — is just to make that area as inhospitable to these nonresidents as possible,” Silver said. “So they go somewhere else, which doesn’t solve the community’s problem. It just means somebody else is going to be dealing with it. But that’s sort of where we find ourselves.”

When people are ushered off the property, many spill over to nearby businesses’ properties.

A local business owner, who didn’t want to be named for fear of retaliation, said he frequently witnesses drug use and deals near his building. Employees there keep doors locked and avoid using the back exit at night.

Life and death

Housing First may well save lives, but it also may cost them.

In 2024, so far, two people have died of overdoses in this kind of housing, said Jamie Spinelli, Vancouver’s homeless response coordinator, who tracks deaths among those connected to the homeless community.

She said she supports Housing First in theory, but the reality is more complicated.

“It makes perfect sense to not have barriers to getting into housing, because a lot of those barriers can be difficult if not impossible to overcome while you’re (living) outside,” Spinelli said. “But … we weren’t anticipating something like fentanyl running through the community.”

Transitioning into housing can be rocky for those who have been homeless for a long time, especially those struggling with addiction or mental illness.

“I think just with anything else, there is not one model or one program that is the best fit for everybody,” Spinelli said. “We do need treatment and easier access to treatment. I want to be clear. But just throwing people into housing without ensuring that there is support available to them and they would like to take part in it — that’s not the answer.”

A better life

In Leonard’s apartment, a sign hangs over the sink: “Always believe that something wonderful is about to happen.” But what she sees out her window strains her optimism.

Soon, Leonard and other VHA residents and neighbors plan to take their concerns to the Vancouver City Council.

“This is my home. This is my sanctuary. This is where I’m supposed to feel safe and secure. But I don’t — not in the slightest. I want to better my life. That’s why I came here,” Leonard said. “You give us a roof, four walls and a floor and say we’re housed, but there has to be something more after that to help us stay. It’s a great concept, but you can’t put all of us together and expect everything to go OK. There needs to be more. It can’t go on like this.”