A community group has begun providing free lunch monthly for the unhoused in Albany. WAMC sat down with some of the attendees and has this report.
On a blazing, 90-degree day, cold water, fresh fruit, sandwiches, and snacks are being shared in a small park along the Hudson River. For the second time in as many months, the Albany chapter of the National Union of the Homeless is hosting lunch at Jennings Landing.
Wearing shorts, a black Snoop Dawg T-shirt, and a backward hat over a pink hand towel, Richard Johnson says he recently secured housing after going without for three years. During his time living behind the state Legislative Office Building, Johnson was once struck by a car while he was asleep.
“I feel that I'm blessed now. You know, blessed not to be homeless. All I have to do is follow these simple rules and everything will be good,” Johnson said.
Johnson, who volunteers as a spokesperson for the Union's Albany chapter, says the program gives him something to do and to stay away from negativity. But he says it’s not easy.
“Growing up, I was also in special ED classes and all of that stuff. And I mainstreamed out of those, graduated high school, and, you know, started working when I was 14 years old,” Johnson said. “I'd be 57 August 11th, happy early birthday. 57-years-old, I didn't think, and a lot of my friends that I went to school with, they passed away already. So, I feel that God has a plan for me, and my plan is to help people get, you know, get, get what they deserve and achieve to the point of what they deserve.”
According to a 2024 report by Albany’s Community Development Agency, more than 1,000 people were living in emergency shelters, transitional housing, or were unsheltered. That’s an increase of more than 120 from 2023.
The monthly lunch is put together by Joe Paparone, a local pastor and organizer with the Union.
Paparone says while he has never experienced homelessness himself, he felt compelled to do something after encountering the stories of parishioners at Messiah Lutheran Church in Rotterdam.
Starting the lunch program required a community effort. Paparone says that meant securing not only donations, but also volunteers.
“People come to places,” Paparone said. “One, where they know they're going to get a need met. So, offering a meal is a key thing. But two, where people they trust are going to be there. So, the top ambassadors, you know, for lack of a better word, the top organizers of our union, are the people who've been part of it, who can. Say, this is what we're doing. This is why we need you. We need to build collective power amongst our people.”
Irene Gallaer was homeless for two years before recently getting an apartment. Carrying several reusable tote bags and a backpack, she says job loss, a house fire, divorce, and medical bankruptcy led to her homelessness. Gallaer says programs like the lunch not only help fill her stomach, they make her feel heard.
“The marginalized, the mentally ill are stigmatized, the homeless, the poor are stigmatized by myopic thinking,” Gallaer said. “We're afraid to speak up, because we get fucked both ways. Excuse me, we get fucked by our circumstances and we get fucked by a system that we've paid into, a department of social services that we have paid into all our lives. We get harassed by police. We get harassed by kids.”
Donald Stubbs has been homeless for 14 years. He receives Social Security, but it isn’t enough to pay rent — he says he's about $300 short for an apartment.
“The landlord says I can move in. They like me. We did a walk around and through and walk through and an assessment, and it's good. They like me. She wants to know how I'm going to continue that. So, the funding that some of these agencies are getting, in my opinion, is supposed to be for situations like this, like mine, I'm just coming up $300 short of the difference. That's the difference between being housed or remaining homeless.”
The realities of struggling to pay rent are not lost on Bebhinn Francis, who is volunteering today. Francis says though she works full-time for United Tenants of Albany, she's putting forward about 60 percent of her income for rent.
That's double the affordability threshold often referred to as the "30 percent rule."
Still, Francis says even though her friends coming to lunch don’t have a lot, there’s always something to share.
“They're the most generous people, people who have nothing. Almost every time I see them, they have something for me, like I saw this scarf and I thought he one of them at the last picnic gave me like this little plastic dolphin that's sitting on my dresser,” Francis said. “Sitting on my dresser. It's just like they give you these little things to, like, show their appreciation of our friendship. And it's just like these folks are the folks that will give you the shirt right off their back. And I just it really touches me, because they have nothing, and they're so giving.”
