Business owners express relief for stricter enforcement while some homeless people question where to go

Over a dozen people spoke before the vote Monday finalizing stricter enforcement of camping in Spokane. Nearly all were in favor of the change.

Representatives from the Downtown Spokane Partnership, Greater Spokane Incorporated, Catholic Charities and Spokane Business Association all praised the proposal.

Jonathan Mallahan spoke on behalf of the local Catholic Charities organization. He said that it is a foundational belief for the charity that housing is a human right, and that individual freedoms should be balanced by the common good.

The ordinance does well to prioritize offering services to homeless people rather than punishment, he said, while “preserving the discretion needed to address behaviors that undermine a healthy, welcoming community.”

“That means we must care for those in greatest need, while also ensuring our shared spaces remain safe and thriving for all who work, live and visit Spokane,” Mallahan said. “We believe this is the kind of compassionate realism Spokane needs.”

The ordinance, dubbed “Prop One Plus” by Councilman Michael Cathcart, broadens the abilities of city police in addressing homelessness, granting officers discretion whether to make an arrest, issue a ticket, offer services or some combination thereof.

The tough-love perspective was shared by local small business owner Taryn Coleman, who said that she herself was once deep in the throes of addiction.

“I spent nearly a decade behind bars, and while I will never pretend that incarceration is the ideal solution, I will never dispute that it saved my life,” she said. “When people refuse outreach, when they refuse shelter, when they refuse treatment, jail can sometimes be the last door that’s still open. And sometimes that doorway is just enough space and time for someone to choose life.”

Owner of First Avenue Coffee Doyle Wheeler said that he strongly supports the policy change as a way to make downtown Spokane safer and instill a sense of community in people.

“I believe a safe downtown will inherently grow community,” he said. “It’s not about growing business, It’s not about growing wealth – It’s about growing safety and smiles and family being together.”

Earlier in the day, Brianne Holzendorf, 47, sat alone on the Monroe Street Bridge.

She was cold and hungry under her sleeping bag, collecting bits of hail as she recalled the last four months spent homeless after a fire destroyed her home.

“There’s nowhere to be. There’s nowhere to go,” Holzendorf said, tears welling in her eyes. “I mean, you’re always asked to move along, no matter where it is, and nobody’s happy to see you. It just sucks.”

Amy Melson, 44, stood on a corner outside Mod Pizza with her 4-year-old pitbull mix, Gabriel Lunchbox Martin, and a shopping cart full of everything she had in Spokane. She said she has been trying to raise funds to make it home to Oklahoma to be with her 18-year-old daughter, who is preparing to give birth to a baby girl.

Melson has a home in Oklahoma and refers to herself as “stranded,” rather than homeless.

Both women said they longed for the innocence of childhood.

“It sucks to be cold,” Holzendorf said. “I just wish that I was a little kid again so I could be snuggled down and taken care of by my mom.”

For some living on the streets, the new ordinance isn’t encouraging nor surprising. Holzendorf has been homeless for four months. After a string of major life-altering events – the death of her husband, her house burning down, losing her job and then eviction from her apartment – she found herself huddled under a sleeping bag on the Monroe Street Bridge.

She’s been approached by many police officers over her months on the street, who are for the most part kind and helpful, she said, but there are a litany of barriers that keep her from accepting their help in getting her to a shelter.

For one, her boyfriend wouldn’t be able to stay with her; she can’t find an opening in an overnight shelter open to both men and women.

“I have bad anxiety, and I just am really hesitant to separate from my other half for that overnight period,” she said. “If there was a shelter that would take a couple, I would go there in a heartbeat, an absolute heartbeat.”

If she was able to find a space that could shelter both her and her boyfriend, who she said keeps her safe and warm, then there’s the problem of getting there. She can’t ride a bus with her collapsible cart, piled high with blankets for the cold season she’s dreading.

If ticketed, she wouldn’t be able to pay it. If it came down to being arrested, ticketed or seeking shelter, she said she would feel “forced” to seek shelter, even if without her boyfriend.

“I have no way to pay. And I’m not interested in going to jail; I’m not,” Holzendorf said. “I feel like it’s just a matter of time before I would end up in jail, because I’ve talked to more officers and it seems like I’m always getting told to ‘Move along, move along.’ ”

It’s a familiar tune to Melson, who has been living on Spokane’s streets since she was removed from an Amtrak bus on her way to Tulsa four months ago.

Since, she’s been stuck in Spokane, trying to find her way back to Tulsa in time for the birth of her granddaughter.

“I don’t want to be here, straight up,” she said. “I want to be back at home.”

Police approach Melson daily, offering resource lists that map out where shelters, treatment centers and free meals are around the city. But there’s a 70-pound barrier keeping her from simply finding a shelter: her pup Gabriel, who she’s had since he was a puppy.

“I’m not going to a shelter if I’m leaving my dog,” she said of Gabriel, dutifully laying at her feet.

A roof over her head would be welcome, she said, as would the opportunity to shower and use a restroom that isn’t a dumpster.

“They need to come up with a place to put people. They can’t keep complaining about where to put us, find somewhere for us,” she said. “Help us, don’t hinder us.”

Melson hopes she’ll be well on her way to Tulsa before police start making arrests or issuing tickets in Spokane. As for Holzendorf, her veteran boyfriend qualifies for a voucher to pay for housing, and they’re awaiting the response on their application for a studio near downtown.

Once she’s back with a roof over her head, Holzendorf said the months on the street will have taught her a lot.

“Try to have some compassion and teach your children compassion, because it’s necessary,” she said. “You don’t know what someone else is going through, and we’re all human beings and we’re all in this together, whether it seems like it or not.”