John Paul, 37, had three books on his new bed on a recent Friday morning: the Life Recovery Bible, based on the 12-step addiction recovery model, plus the Bible and the Book of Mormon.
“It’s a lot of reading,” Paul said, but it satisfies his emotional and intellectual curiosity about religion as well as his commitment to sobriety.
The San Antonio native hasn’t been able to unpack or organize much since he moved into his new home at the Hudson Apartments in early July. Reading has become a big part of his routine.
Paul walked in short, purposeful steps from the bedroom to the living room and smiled while describing the plot of the crime mystery he was currently reading. He was proud to show off his home to visitors.
SAMMinistries, a nonprofit that provides housing and services to people experiencing homelessness, purchased the 60-unit apartment building in the Shearer Hills/Ridgeview neighborhood in late 2021 and this week renovations started to make 18 now-vacant apartments ADA-compliant. The Hudson is one of just two single-site permanent supportive housing projects in San Antonio, which provide long-term housing and on-site services such as food and counseling for chronically homeless individuals.
While several neighborhood residents have vocalized safety concerns for both Hudson residents and the community, others welcome the change and see it as part of a larger effort to reduce homelessness.
There’s a large pile of clothes in Paul’s living room, and an unopened futon, table and chairs lean against the wall. A microwave, toaster and other creature comforts given to him as part of his “move-out kit” from Haven for Hope are piled in what will likely become a dining nook in his kitchen.
“This is the first time [I’m] independent, living on my own,” said Paul, who had been living at the homeless shelter on the near West Side for the past year. Before that, he had been camping on the streets since late 2020 as the coronavirus pandemic shut down most employment options. He’s trying “not to get too comfortable in quietness” so he’s been adding social activities to his routine to “condition myself to be more active.”
Having a routine helps with his recovery, Paul said, after years of struggling with alcohol abuse disorder and mental health issues including depression and anxiety. He attends AA meetings, works evenings at a Dairy Queen and plans to adopt a kitten.
On Aug. 12, he’ll get his one-year chip for sobriety, he said, and he wants to be part of the “good peer pressure” by encouraging his friends, including other Hudson residents, to commit to sobriety.
“This time I have a really healthy support system,” he said. “It works.”
Living at Hudson
People who have previously struggled with addiction and mental health are often the best — and sometimes only — voices that can reach those who are currently embroiled in similar issues, said Roberto Pena, a case manager at Hudson.
Paul and other SAMM clients regularly enlist their peers to join meetings and hold each other accountable, Pena said.
“This guy has an awesome work ethic,” he said, pointing to Paul, adding that the case managers encourage residents to form peer support groups.
Resident engagement in programs is encouraged, but not required at Hudson.
Permanent supportive housing is a key pillar of the “housing first” model to address homelessness that prioritizes housing over sobriety. The approach is to provide housing first, with no strings attached, while offering recovery and other medical services.
Towne Twin Village, which ultimately aims to house more than 200 older adults in tiny homes and RVs, also provides permanent supportive housing on a sprawling campus on the East Side. That project was developed by the Housing First Community Coalition, but SAMM works with several clients there as well.
“One of the things that we’re able to accomplish with these [projects] is we’re able to alleviate some of the stress on the campus Haven for Hope,” said Nikisha Baker, president and CEO of SAMMinistries. “If there’s no housing on the other end” of shelters, then shelters are overcrowded and a “bottleneck” forms.
While the success of permanent supportive housing and housing first efforts has varied across the United States, Baker is confident that SAMM has the expertise and long-term, sustainable funding to get rid of that bottleneck in San Antonio.
While this is SAMM’s first foray into a single-site operation, the nonprofit has operated scattered-site permanent supportive housing in various apartment complexes and homes for more than a decade and has more than 180 units in its inventory. That kind of supportive housing typically requires the client to travel to services, or for a case manager to travel to them.
If not for this kind of housing, Paul would likely be stuck living at a shelter, which is meant to be a more temporary living situation, while on a long waitlist for public housing.
In April San Antonio City Council approved more than $31 million for three single-site permanent supportive housing projects, including $4.25 million for the Hudson. That funding comes from a combination of 2022 municipal bond and federal grants from the city and Bexar County. The county’s approval is pending a vote by the Bexar County Commissioners Court.
‘Not a one-size-fits-all model’
Hudson residents sign a lease, which comes with standard behavioral rules for an apartment complex, Baker said. They pay 30% of their income on rent, called an “occupancy fee” — which is often zero or comes from federal benefits such as social security. If a client doesn’t qualify for benefits and can’t work, federal funding covers 100% of the fee.
“The occupancy fees are then used to stock the food pantry [and] help with basic needs of residents,” she said.
SAMM currently offers some services on-site and helps clients connect with off-site partners if they prefer, she said. As part of the Hudson redevelopment, SAMM will build a roughly 4,000 square-foot service center that will house a clinic, counseling services and addiction recovery programs. That center is slated to open next summer.
“There’s not a one-size-fits-all model,” she said. “[We will provide] whatever is going to help each client achieve maximum independence and stability and that looks different for everyone.”
The only prerequisite for clients at Hudson is that they meet the definition of “chronically homeless,” that is, having been unhoused for at least a year or four times over the last three years while struggling with a physical disability, substance use disorder, or mental health issue.
That population often includes people who have criminal histories, Baker said, “but we feel very strongly that permanent supportive housing takes folks who may be a nuisance in an unsheltered environment, and stabilizes them so that they’re no longer a struggle for the community.”
Registered sex offenders cannot live at the Hudson, according to state law, because of its close proximity to SAMM’s childcare center and Transitional Living and Learning Center, she added.
While most of the one- and two-bedroom units are reserved for singles and couples, SAMM will soon pilot a “shared housing” model — otherwise known as roommates — for single individuals who would like to live together. There are also four families at Hudson living in two- and three-bedroom units reserved for rapidly rehousing survivors of domestic violence.
SAMM hired a security firm to patrol the apartment complex from 7 p.m. to 7 a.m. and case managers and other employees are on call at night in case of an emergency, Baker said.
Several neighbors have suggested that the apartments should be surrounded by a fence and secure gate in order to protect tenants and the neighborhood.
Of the 60 units, about 24 are still occupied by tenants who lived there before SAMM purchased the building. As they move out through “natural turnover and attrition,” the organization’s clients will move in, Baker said.
“It’s still considered affordable housing,” she said. The rent for a one-bedroom at Hudson is about $750 in a city that rarely sees apartments for less than $1,000.
“Our model was one where we did not want to displace if we could help it,” she said.
Response from the neighborhood
Jim Smith has rented one of the three-bedroom units on the second floor of the Hudson since April last year. When he moved in, there were several people living in units who were squatting as they did not pay rent nor sign a lease, he said.
“They’d find a door that was open in a vacant apartment and all of a sudden they had a nice hotel,” said Smith, who previously served as vice president of the Shearer Hills/Ridgeview Neighborhood Association and now primarily lives in Mexico.
Since SAMM took over, the conditions at the Hudson have drastically improved, he said.
Concerns about the Hudson and its new residents are reminiscent of the complaints that occurred about 25 years ago when SAMM opened its transitional facility, Smith said.
Some neighbors said at the time that it was “going to destroy the neighborhood,” he said. “It never destroyed the neighborhood. You can drive or walk down Blanco Road and you don’t know SAMMinistries is there.”
It’s that kind of history that led SAMM to purchase the apartments without much fanfare. No zoning changes or permits were required for the new clientele to move in.
If not for a chance encounter with a woman who lived at the Hudson seeking a foster home for a stray dog, Heidi Widell and other neighbors likely wouldn’t have known about Hudson’s transition. Around the same time last year there was an incident involving “a naked woman running up and down the street in an alley,” she said, which led to increased neighborhood scrutiny about the changes at Hudson.
“There was no communication, no transparency, nothing,” said Widell, a middle school teacher and former civil rights attorney who has lived across the street from the Hudson for 20 years.
Jennifer Neal, vice president of the Shearer Hills/Ridgeview Neighborhood Association, said she understands why residents, especially those adjacent to the property, were frustrated with that. But she recognizes that affordable housing and homeless services facilities tend to face disproportionate concerns from neighbors.
“I think it’s a very vocal minority [who have complaints about the Husdon] because … most folks don’t even know what’s going on,” Neal said. “They would be like me and drive by and think: ‘Oh, look, the Hudson got painted’ and just go about their day.”
Widell said she has no problem with permanent supportive housing at the Hudson, she just wants to see it “done right.”
Widell’s inquiry into the property sparked an April meeting in Smith’s apartment, which was the first time members of the neighborhood was given a full briefing about the project.
The information provided by SAMM during that meeting did not quell Widell and other neighbors’ concerns — which largely have to do with the lack of controlled or gated access to protect residents and the neighborhood.
If residents are fleeing domestic violence, “you need controlled access because they’re a very vulnerable population,” Widell said. “You can’t just think everything’s roses, and we’re going to be able to handle these populations — especially if you’re putting disparate groups together.”
A majority of the families, sometimes as many as 70%, living at SAMM’s adjacent Transitional Living and Learning Center are fleeing domestic violence, Baker said.
“There is not a gate or fence on that property. Instead, our team works with families on safety plans to help ensure their wellbeing. The same is true for families at The Hudson,” she said. “Part of the charm of The Hudson is how well it fits into the community. Attempting to control access with a gate/fence would only take away from that.”
The cost of living in San Antonio, and the U.S., has outpaced wage growth and human services safety nets, said Erik Sanden, president of the Shearer Hills/Ridgeview Neighborhood Association, leading to a greater need for housing first options like the Hudson.
“We have to balance … supporting this kind of project and then also making sure that it stays on the rails,” Sanden said.”These people, [who] are so vulnerable, are already living on the streets in our community. I see this [effort] as an opportunity to try something.”
Since that initial incident last year, however, there haven’t been any issues or consistent police presence, Widell said. There are also fewer tenants there currently, as renovation begins on 18 unoccupied units. “When there were people there, there were police there all the time.”
San Antonio Police Department data shows an uptick in emergency calls to Hudson’s address since 2019, but it largely predates October 2022, when SAMM’s first client moved in. There were 74 calls in 2019, 155 in 2020, 184 in 2021 and 168 in 2022. The largest proportion of calls were categorized as disturbances over that four-year period.
The neighborhood has seen unhoused people walking and sleeping on streets long before SAMM purchased the Hudson, Neal said. “Everyone deserves compassion, regardless of what got them in those circumstances.”
Lowering barriers for recovery services
At a neighborhood association meeting Thursday night, about 50 residents heard from representatives from the Texas Department of Transportation and the city’s Department of Human Services (DHS) about the clearing and clean-up process for homeless encampments that regularly occur at underpasses and intersections at Interstate Loop 410.
People living there are given at least 48 hours notice before the area is “abated” and city and other street outreach workers offer shelter and other services, said Joe VanKuiken, a senior management coordinator for DHS.
“If it’s a resource that we have at our disposal, we’re offering it to those folks every time we meet up with them and talk to them,” VanKuiken said.
Those who decline typically relocate temporarily only to return to the camp soon after.
The issue came up again during a question-and-answer session with recently-elected City Councilwoman Sukh Kaur (D1), whose district includes Shearer Hills and downtown.
Once more permanent supportive housing options are available, fewer people will be camping under highways and in drainage ditches, Kaur said.
“When you look at strategies for actually getting folks into a safe place to stay, because of the mental health and drug addiction, you need … a housing first strategy, which is what permanent supportive housing does,” Kaur told the crowd inside Blessed Sacrament Catholic Church’s parish hall.
Kaur said she has a family member who lives with a serious mental health diagnosis that requires medication.
That relative has a “full family support system — and taking medicine is still hard,” she said, so she asked attendees to imagine that burden on someone who is unhoused.
More low-barrier shelters, meaning those that do not require sobriety or participation in services, are also needed to strengthen the pipeline to permanent supportive housing, Kaur said.
In 2021, the city partnered with SAMM to open a low-barrier shelter in a downtown Days Inn hotel and plans to open another later this year, she noted.
When city and county leaders consider whether to invest more funding in permanent supportive housing in the future, they will look at the successes and challenges at the Hudson and Towne Twin Village, Baker said.
Baker has not “heard any more complaints from the neighborhood” so far this summer.
“We are really trying to be a good partner.”
