November 7, 2024
TOMS RIVER – A clandestine homeless encampment has managed to defy discovery since last October, catching local authorities completely off guard.   The revelation came to light during a recent weekend summer sunset patrol by diligent members of the Ocean County Air Support Squadron (OASS). From the vantage point of their small aircraft, volunteers took The post New Homeless Camp: Behind Every Face Is A Story appeared first on Jersey Shore Online.

TOMS RIVER – A clandestine homeless encampment has managed to defy discovery since last October, catching local authorities completely off guard.

  The revelation came to light during a recent weekend summer sunset patrol by diligent members of the Ocean County Air Support Squadron (OASS). From the vantage point of their small aircraft, volunteers took a double take as they gazed down upon the landscape below.

  Amidst an area nestled near high tension wires, rows of tents and people moving about revealed a hidden world that had successfully eluded scrutiny for eight months.

  Ocean County Sheriff Michael Mastronardy oversees OASS, which serves as the county law enforcement agency’s air wing. Utilizing their own aircraft, skilled pilots conduct surveillance over waterways, roads, and wooded regions. Through the submission of photographs, any unusual discoveries are diligently documented.

Amidst an area nestled near high tension wires, rows of tents and people moving about revealed a hidden world of a homeless encampment. (Photo by Stephanie Faughnan)

  Mastronardy credited the sharp-eyed team with discovering the hidden encampment, which had been alluded to in a social media post that same day. Upon identifying the setup, Toms River Police were notified of the situation.

  Local authorities dispatched a targeted group to the camp to engage with them and evaluate their situations. While some expressed resistance to what they perceived as outsider intervention, others hoped to find alternatives to their current living conditions.

  In the wake of county officials taking proactive steps to create a homelessness trust fund and task force, the urgency for support became all the more evident.

Homelessness Advocacy

  Setting up a community of tents to address shelter isn’t exactly a novel concept for Minister Steve Brigham of Destiny’s Bridge. At the start of the millennium, Brigham began by providing for the needy by offering food and essentials. However, an encounter with a man who asked Brigham for rent money resulted in a more comprehensive approach.

  After providing the man with a tent and camping gear, Brigham settled him in Jackson. Two weeks later, the man expressed difficulties finding work and a lack of nearby food pantries. Responding to the man’s concerns, Brigham agreed to relocate him and later extended assistance to other homeless individuals he learned were in need. 

  So began the story of Lakewood’s Tent City, which was ultimately dismantled by authorities. Its occupants received some compensation as others moved on to Howell to another homeless community. Township officials in Howell promised to help them, and then sold that property to a developer, who kicked them off.

Honeker with Fred (Photo by Stephanie Faughnan)

  The most recently discovered homeless encampment set up by Brigham stands out due to the ages and health of many of its residents, who are living without the comfort of conventional support systems.

  In a social media post earlier this month, Brigham gave the first names of nineteen individuals ranging from ages 28-78 with requests for clothing donations. He also told the story of someone who advocated for a homeless shelter within Ocean County a decade ago for others. Lynn fell upon hard times and came to the encampment as she had nowhere else to live.

  Tragically, just two weeks after settling in the camp, Lynn called one of her newfound friends to say she wasn’t feeling well. The next call was from one of Lynn’s family members, informing them that she had passed away in the hospital due to a heart attack.

  Brigham easily admits he has little faith in the government. He expressed his concerns regarding the risk of removing people from the tent community in a more recent social media post.

  “This treatment of homeless seniors by local and county government is utterly inhumane and honestly, downright shameful,” Brigham said. “While resources are scarce, affordable housing is unavailable, and the wealthy are more concerned about their property values than human lives, the very least government officials ought to do is allow community organizations like ours to assist the poor without interference, in whatever way we are able.”

  “It’s like putting a Band-Aid on the whole thing,”  Brigham said when interviewed. “Sure, people will get put up in a hotel for a couple of days or even a couple of weeks. But families don’t always get to stay together. And they can’t bring their animals with them. They’re back on the streets in no time.”

Katie Grow (Photo by Stephanie Faughnan)

  Among the team assembled for the first visit by Toms River Police were plain clothes officers, the Board of Social Services, social workers, and volunteer representatives from organizations such as Just Believe, Inc. Paul Hulse, is CEO of Just Believe, which runs a Code Blue shelter in Toms River when temperatures drop below freezing points.

  Hulse said he thought there was a need for his group’s services after reading Brigham’s first post.

  “We are also privately funded through private grants from the state, county, and Toms River,” shared Hulse. “We also receive support from a number of private businesses.”

  Hulse said his organization works with various non-profits to secure assistance. The list of affiliates includes mental health professionals, veteran groups, and affordable housing entities.

Who Are They?

  Before word got out that authorities knew of the camp’s existence, Brigham had already agreed to allow this reporter to visit the camp. However, the scheduled appointment was moved up by a few days in a matter of minutes.

  “I just got a call from people over at the camp,” Brigham shared. “The police were there with a bunch of people. They’re planning on coming back tomorrow.”

  Brigham’s tone made it difficult to discern whether he was aggravated by the perceived invasion or even a bit worried – or perhaps a mix of both emotions. Nevertheless, the decision was an easy one and the appointment was scheduled for early the next morning.

  Along the unpaved and twisty road through untamed nature, a sense of secrecy enveloped the surroundings. It was early morning and as the camp came into view,  the only living creatures around were a playful flock of different colored chickens. Everyone else was tucked away in the tents lining two sides, creating a pathway winding through the heart of the camp.

  “No roosters,” offered Brigham. “They make too much noise. The chickens are good for getting rid of the tics.”

  Brigham first pointed to some water jugs that he fills regularly and then sighed as he looked at the pile of black garbage bags. He commented on the inevitability of garbage and a throw away society.

Morrow (Photo by Stephanie Faughnan)

  The unmistakable upset in Brigham’s voice was palpable as he began moving from tent to tent to check on those he considered part of his ministry. He explained that they each had a chance to share their stories if they wished. Despite the option of anonymity, a surprising number willingly posed for quick portraits, unreservedly offering their full names to accompany their narratives.

  Bill Honeker, 63, originally from Brick, emerged from his tent, ready to provide Brigham with the details of the previous day. His bare torso revealed a chiseled six-pack, only marred by a surgical scar from a liver transplant. Fred, a sweet boxer, stood faithfully next to his master.

  Honeker said he rides his bicycle to the gym regularly to work out and then showers after he’s done there. Meanwhile, a great deal of Honeker’s Social Security benefits goes to paying for his medication.

  “Between food and my medication, there’s nothing left to pay for rent,” shared Honeker.

  A former dock builder and plumber, Honeker said he once owned his own home, a boat, and a truck. He lost it all after a bad breakup with a girl he was supposed to marry.

  “They told us yesterday that they’re trying to get everybody out of here as soon as they can,” Honeker said. “They want to level everything out and get everyone in temporary placement.”

  Honeker was visibly upset as he recalled the time he and Fred were separated when Honeker landed in a temporary shelter in Asbury Park.

  “Steve helped me out and I got reunited with my dog,” Honeker said. “I’ve been here since November.”

  Originally from Beachwood, 55-year-old Victoria O’Connor suffered a brain aneurysm that left her paralyzed on her right side. She laughed when asked if she immigrated from England prior to moving to Ocean County.

  “After my aneurysm, I started to have the accent,” chuckled O’Connor. “I wish it was Irish instead.”

Frances (Photo by Stephanie Faughnan)

  O’Connor said she spent two and a half  years in rehabilitation to recover from her aneurysm. After she moved in with her brother, O’Connor stated that she was tricked into leaving because of addiction issues. Although now sober for four years, O’Connor spent some time living outside the Lacey Library, facing daily interactions with the police.

  A year ago, Brigham extended a lifeline by providing O’Connor with a tent, giving her a place to call her own.

  Two of the tents occupied within the encampment provide shelter for families who lost their homes when the Surf and Stream Campground owners sold their property to the county government. The new owner of that Manchester property had big plans for developing it, but the county was able to buy it and make it open space. Either way, the people were kicked out.

  Three cots fit together like a puzzle piece in the tent occupied by the Jamison family. Frances, 64, said she and her family lived at Surf and Stream for 19 years. A thin tube inserted into the frail woman’s nostrils led to an oxygen concentrator hooked up to a generator.

  Frances, who is battling COPD and a kidney blockage, said that although she and her 72-year-old husband, Robert are separated, he lives with her as her caretaker. The couple’s 37-year-old son William nervously caressed Lulu, the family’s devoted English bulldog who was somehow squeezed into the tight space.

   While mental health challenges prevent William from working, he also admitted he wanted to be there to help his ailing mother. Frances interjected by proudly calling her son a “Mama’s Boy.”

Frances family (Photo by Stephanie Faughnan)

  Kelly Forcier, 57, also came from the Surf and Stream campgrounds and is situated in a tent near the Jamison family. While she isn’t always hooked up to oxygen, she also relies on the generators to provide it to her when she needs it.

  Despite his knowledge of the impending shut down of Surf and Stream, Forcier said the manager encouraged her to buy a new camper. COPD is just one of Forcier’s medical issues that have contributed to her totally disabled designation. Two months ago, Forcier found out there was a place for her within the encampment.

  “We tried asking for help while we were there (Surf and Stream),” Forcier said. “They were going to give me a week in a hotel room. I get Social Security and could afford a hotel room through the winter, but then where? What about food?”

  A white haired man with an air of distinction couldn’t say enough about how fortunate he was to find a home within the encampment. Morrow Hayes, 78, said he earned an MBA from Wharton School of Business and had a flourishing career as a commercial real estate developer.

  As Hayes held onto his cherished pup, Brutus, he said that he doesn’t know what he’ll do if the encampment shuts down. He agreed to go with the social services team to the hospital to get checked out. Hayes called Brigham to pick him up upon his release from the medical facility.

Forcier (Photo by Stephanie Faughnan)

  “I’ve been here several months,” shared Hayes. “This would be catastrophic if things are shut down. It’s well run with no crazy behavior.”

  One of the other community members walked past Hayes to agree with him. He also whispered that Hayes sometimes gets confused and can’t always find his way back to his tent.

  Katie Grow, 68, moved from Glen Ridge to Beachwood a couple of decades ago. Glen Ridge is an affluent community with a median income of $243,000. Katie had a booming career doing ad sales when her life changed.

  Rather than speak within the confines of the tent she shares with her family, Katie motioned to a tent reminiscent of a small conference room with four chairs and a long table. Apparently, earlier rains seeped through as the seat was more than a little wet as the interview commenced.

  “I’m not scared of hard work,” Katie asserted. “My husband and I raised our family and made plenty of money. But we didn’t save for a rainy day – we were busy taking care of other people.”

  A philosophical and fiercely articulate woman, Katie plans to write a book about her experiences. It won’t be one that focuses on the “woe is me.” After all, Katie invokes a daily mantra that she says comes from the lyrics of Stevie Wonder’s “In the Key of Life.”

  “You know sometime in life’s hate and troubles, can make you wish you were born in another time and space,” paraphrased Katie. “But you can bet your life…that God knew exactly where he wanted you to be placed.”

  Katie said that she lost her job after doctors gave her opiates for intractable pain and she became addicted to them. She lives at the camp with her husband, Dennis, Sr. and their son, Dennis, Jr., who has some mental health issues. The family also has two aging cocker spaniels from the same litter – one with a visible tumor on its back.

The chickens eat ticks in the area. (Photo by Stephanie Faughnan)

  “We’re all living on my $753 check each month,” Katie said. “Where else can we go?”

  The snapshot of the residents within the encampment are enough to cause anyone to lose sleep. Many of the people said they already felt let down by some of the agencies that showed up to help them. They worry that alternatives to their current conditions could find them separated from their families or forced to give up their loyal pets.

  And, then there’s the problem of anything less than permanent placement. No one appeared to have family or friends to turn to – as those options had already been discounted.

  Ocean County Commissioner Bobbi Jo Crea, who initiated the homelessness task force and fund, revealed the level of compassion she feels for every person without a roof over their heads.

  “We’ve begun the first steps to working on this issue,” said Crea. “Our plan is to get input from the various agencies and nonprofits to point people in a direction that offers them the help they need.”

The post New Homeless Camp: Behind Every Face Is A Story appeared first on Jersey Shore Online.