Stella Dempsey lives in a tent in Fredericksburg, Virginia. She says she’s been homeless for years because of physical and mental health issues. States struggle to help people like Dempsey. (Rollie Hudson)
By Teresa Wiltz
FREDERICKSBURG, Virginia—At the Micah Ecumenical Ministries, in the center of this quaint colonial town, Stella Dempsey sits in the waiting room, looking dejected. Ministry staffers offered her a bed at a shelter, but she says she can’t bear to go back. Still, she’s feeling desperate.
She is homeless and jobless and sleeps in a tent in the woods. She’s got cirrhosis of the liver, high blood pressure, diabetes and a bad back. Two months ago, she said, she almost died. Now, she’s run out of all her medications, from her bipolar meds to her insulin. She is not eligible for Medicaid under Virginia law.
“I have nothing until they give me disability,” the former waitress said, her eyes welling. “I’m hoping for help. I need food stamps, a clinic for my meds. … People look down on people who are homeless. They think we’re nasty and no good. But some of us can’t help it. If I could help it, trust me, I would.”
At first blush, Dempsey, 43, doesn’t fit the stereotype of the chronically homeless. She’s neatly dressed in flowered capris, her hazel eyes rimmed with eyeliner. But in Fredericksburg, as in other small towns, suburbs and rural corners of the country, the homeless are often hidden, out of sight and mind, hard to reach and hard to help, say people who work with the homeless. Continue reading