California’s homeless crisis is often understood through cities like Los Angeles and San Francisco, where the sheer number of people living unsheltered can quickly capsize the programs designed to help them. But in remote counties like Del Norte, California’s Project Homekey is having a tangible impact.
Cities and nonprofits across the country are building communities of tiny homes to safely house people amid covid and cold winters. Proponents say tiny homes give people dignity and privacy, but some advocates for homeless people say they don’t go far enough.
California is embarking on a five-year experiment to infuse its health insurance program for low-income people with billions of dollars in nonmedical services spanning housing, food delivery and addiction care. Gov. Gavin Newsom said the goal is to improve care for the program’s sickest and costliest members and save money, but will it work?
As cities across California wrestle with a crisis of homelessness that has drawn international condemnation, Santa Rosa’s bold experiment with a city-sanctioned encampment suggests a way forward.
Insurance giant Blue Shield of California has made millions in charitable and political donations to Gov. Gavin Newsom over nearly two decades, largely to his dearly held homeless initiatives. In turn, Newsom has rewarded the insurer with a $15 million no-bid contract to lead the state’s covid vaccination distribution.
Concerns arising in western North Carolina provide a window into the challenges facing health workers across the country as they seek to persuade vulnerable populations to be inoculated against covid.
During the pandemic, shelters are having to change the way they do things to prevent the virus from spreading among the vulnerable homeless population. Now, as winter weather moves in, there’s less room at the shelters for those in need — threatening to leave many, literally, out in the cold.
This was supposed to be the year California finally did something about its homelessness epidemic. COVID-19 upended that promise, along with the cobbled-together services many homeless people rely on for survival. Interviews across the state reveal a new magnitude of hardship and indignity for tens of thousands of people living on the streets.
Three people around Denver have confirmed cases of trench fever, and another person is suspected of having the rare disease, carried by body lice. A scourge during World War I, the illness is the latest problem to emerge as everyone’s attention is diverted to COVID-19.
The coronavirus has forced drug rehabilitation centers to scale back operations or temporarily close, leaving people who have another potentially deadly disease — addiction — with fewer opportunities for help.
