This N.B. couple became homeless a year ago. Now, they're opening up about the harrowing experience
Kevin Desylva says living in a shelter last winter was 'hell on Earth'
Kevin Desylva and Reah Palmer never imagined they would end up homeless. But after 32 years together, the couple found themselves trying anything to make it through each day.
"We've never experienced homelessness, we've never been around it," Desylva said.
"Everything about it was new to us, the people, the atmosphere — it's rough."
There was a time, he said, when the pair were living in Chipman area of what is now Grand Lake. Palmer was working three jobs, and Desylva stayed home to look after his granddaughter.
Palmer was working 70 to 80 hours a week during the COVID pandemic, Desylva said, and the pair eventually moved to Saint John when she was transferred there for a job as a personal support worker.
But when one of Palmer's employers had to let her go, the couple couldn't make their rent.
In late December 2023, Desylva ended up in an out-of-the-cold shelter run by Outflow Ministry. Palmer bounced around with family and friends for a while.
But Palmer said it's difficult relying on family and friends for accommodations when they also need their space.
She started living out of her small car, working 12-hour shifts at night and then sleeping in the vehicle during the day.
At first, Palmer said, she didn't tell Desylva she wasn't staying with family anymore because she didn't want him to worry. And at the same time, he didn't want her in the violent shelter environment he was experiencing.
"It was hell on Earth being there," Desylva said.
He was drug-free when he entered the shelter, he said, but within a week he was introduced to fentanyl, which led to a four-month struggle until he was able to get clean again.
When Palmer received a call from someone telling her that her partner had tried fentanyl, she decided to leave her car and join Desylva in the co-ed shelter. At night, Desylva said, they had to sleep with a knife in one hand and a hammer in the other for protection.
During Palmer's second night in the shelter, she said she woke up to someone on top of her choking her, and security trying to pull the woman off.
Desylva said he once watched someone pull the cupboards off the wall, pull the sink out of the bathroom and break the windows in the security booth.
There were overdoses, too. Palmer saved lives by administering Narcan and doing CPR when no one else could, he said.
Ben Appleby, Outflow Ministry's director of shelter and housing, said Desylva's description of shelter life is raw, but also fairly accurate.
An out-of-the-cold shelter, open from 8 p.m. to 8 a.m., will once again be operating in Saint John this winter. Last year, the location was in the north end and had 40 beds, according to Appleby, but this year, it will have 60 beds in a space on Rothesay Avenue.
As opposed to a 24-hour shelter, he said the out-of-the-cold shelters can be small and crowded spaces.
"When you're dealing with a complex population with a lot of mental health needs, physical health needs, substance use, all in the same room at the same time, you can have a lot of issues," Appleby said.
"We had security in place that we hired, we had a lot of staff on site … but you know, with that amount of people there at all times, you're going to have a lot of issues and that's what we saw."
He agreed there is a lot of violence, sometimes just stemming from a small argument.
You know, you're just a paycheque away from being homeless.- Kevin Desylva
According to the Human Development Council's dashboard, 214 individuals in Saint John experienced chronic homelessness for at least one day in September. Last November, that number was 162.
As the homeless population has grown, the city launched its Housing for All strategy in July. The strategy includes plans to create green and yellow zones —where encampments may be allowed at certain times of the year — and red zones, where no encampments will be permitted.
Along with the emergency out-of-the-cold shelter, there are several others in the city, Appleby said, including Outflow's men's shelter — which has been at capacity for years — and the Coverdale Centre for Women. He said Outflow's drop-in centre is also extending its hours of operation from 18 to 24.
When the out-of-the-cold shelter closed at the end of last winter, Desylva and Palmer started sleeping in a tent in Rockwood Park, until Palmer started getting sick. Having had lung cancer in the past, she saw a doctor and is still waiting for scan results to find out the issue, which has been going on for months.
Palmer said she had been told by a doctor to stop sleeping on the ground. Her weight had dropped to 86 pounds and with her ongoing illness, she couldn't work anymore.
Eventually, when they found a tent trailer on Facebook Marketplace they were able to purchase for $500, they moved in together under the Crown Street overpass at Haymarket Square, where they have been for two months.
They said the street teams, such as the one from Fresh Start Services, do what they can to help — often stopping by with hot meals and supplies — but they have their hands full.
But the general feeling toward homeless people doesn't help, Desylva said.
People will drive by the camper and honk their horns or yell slurs, or even threats, out the window.
Sometimes passersby will yell things like, "Get a job," which just rubs salt in the wound.
"I've worked my whole life … I can't work right now until they give me the go ahead to go back. I mean, I'm on [employment insurance], but it's still not enough for an apartment," Palmer said.
They have now qualified for a subsidized apartment and they'll move in this month.
Homelessness is a world they never imagined, he said.
"You know, you're just a paycheque away from being homeless," Desylva said.
"It's like a revolving door — you're just spinning and spinning, and you don't know how you're going to get out."
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With files from Rachel Cave