'It's like a tidal wave.' Indianapolis grapples with serving residents in need

Corrections and clarifications: An earlier version of this story misspelled the first name of Lori Mueller. 

Kerry Boyd is $3,000 behind on his rent — and counting. 

The single father of a 1-year-old daughter was planning to work as a caterer as part of a business launching in the spring. Then the coronavirus pandemic hit.

Boyd's older son, 24-year-old Deontez, was bringing in steady income working his $12.50-an-hour job at a warehouse. But then he was laid off.

Now, with both of them out of steady work, their $750 in monthly rent for their house near the city's Twin Aire neighborhood keeps piling up.

They just need to catch up, they say. 

"It would make me feel better ... you know, because of her," Boyd said, nodding to his daughter, Kerrysa. "That's my main worry."

Boyd is among the surge of renters who find themselves in need during the coronavirus pandemic's economic downturn.

Demand has been high enough to strain the city's multi-million dollar rental assistance program, which received more than 10,000 requests in less than one week and now has more than 15,000 households on a wait list. 

Money for that program is part of the roughly $177 million in federal funding from the Cares Act that Indianapolis has received to help residents during the crisis in various forms — boosting money for rent, utilities, food, public safety, contact tracing and testing, masks and more. 

City officials, however, say it's not enough to last the city through the economic fallout that will continue for months beyond the pandemic. As the city-county council slowly allots that money to various programs and nonprofits — funding which it must spend by the end of the year — Indianapolis waits in anticipation for the federal government to provide even more aid to local states and cities.

City officials in Indianapolis and other municipalities across the country say the allocation is not enough to support residents through the crisis.

"This is a long-term need; we're in this public health crisis for six to 12 more months. And the economic crisis, it coincides and goes longer than six to 12 months," said Jeff Bennett, deputy mayor of community development. "There has to be some consideration of what long-term assistance looks like for affected households and for affected state and local governments."

Mayor Joe Hogsett has joined nearly 300 other mayors nationwide in requesting another $250 billion in flexible emergency assistance as Congress debates another recovery bill. 

So has the National League of Cities, which estimates that cities nationwide will have over $360 billion in budget shortfalls between 2020 and 2022 because of the pandemic.

"The question now is not so much stabilization of what's necessary, it's sort of recognizing this has the potential for a longer-term downturn in the economy," said Michael Wallace, the group's legislative director of community and economic development. "And we really need to be thinking about stabilization plus stimulus to keep the economy from really crashing in the short-term here."

Ongoing need

n the downtime, Boyd and his brother have started selling turkey legs on the side for a little extra money. His son received a few weeks of unemployment checks before they stopped coming for an unknown reason, the family says. 

He's grateful to have a fairly lenient landlord, a man he used to work for at a nearby used auto store. But he's living in the house on borrowed time.

And while Boyd has food stamps for himself and his daughter, rent and utility payments are piling up. Boyd's girlfriend, Lori Mueller, has been searching online for help — but the city suspended applications for its assistance program after an immediate overwhelming need in the first week. 

In Indianapolis, the damage from the pandemic has stretched far beyond the Boyd home. 

The city has paid for 180 hotel rooms to house people experiencing homelessness and reduce the strain on local shelters.

Another $1.8 million has gone toward assistance to food agencies. 

And more than half a million face masks have been shipped or requested across the county.

Roughly $177 million Cares Act helps pay for such programs that has come in two chunks: the mayor's office is handling roughly $168 million from the act's Coronavirus Relief Fund for governments to cover expenses such as public safety overtime, small business recovery, food support and public health investments. 

An additional $8.6 million has gone to the Department of Metropolitan Development to assist with shelter utilities and access to technology. 

The city, keeping an eye on the debate in Congress, has not spent all of the money at once — instead appropriating it out in what will likely be smaller chunks. The council appropriated a first chunk of roughly $76 million in June. As of June 30, Indianapolis had only spent 3% of its $168 million Coronavirus Relief Fund allotment. 

But Indianapolis has still joined other cities in not only requesting additional funding, but asking for such money to be available for governments to fill the incoming shortfalls in their own budgets. Coronavirus Relief Fund money can only be spent on unanticipated needs related to the pandemic, costs incurred since March and unanticipated budget costs that were not accounted for as of March 27.

"From the start, cities have been on the front lines of the fight against this disease, coordinating local responses and devoting significant resources to help keep people safe," reads an Aug. 5 letter from the United States Conference of Mayors to President Donald Trump.  "At the same time, as economies shut down, cities have experienced a precipitous decline in tax revenue — the full impact of which economists expect to grow."

'It's like a tidal wave'

Meanwhile, the nonprofits that are receiving millions in Cares Act funding have been scrambling to serve the city's most vulnerable populations. 

At the Coburn Place, which helps transition victims of domestic violence into permanent housing, staff have served 1,014 adults and children since the beginning of March alone — 20% more than the nonprofit served in all of 2019.

"It's like a tidal wave," CEO Julia Kathary said. "It just keeps coming."

One reason for the increase: Victims have been held captive at home while isolating in quarantine, she explained. 

The $440,000 from one grant that the Coburn Place received from the city will pay for two additional staff members and help house 20 more families with rent and utility payments, Kathary said.

The pandemic has forced other nonprofits to transform their services as well. 

The Damien Center initially helped house about 40 people living with HIV in the shelter system. But as the crisis worsened, the city tapped the center and the Coalition for Homelessness Intervention and Prevention to house other high-risk people in the shelter system.

The center received $200,000 to run a non-congregate shelter at one hotel from July to December, plus another $260,000 to rapidly rehouse other people experiencing homelessness.

With other assistance from the Reuben Engagement Center, the city anticipates a capacity for 180 hotel rooms.

But is that enough to fill the need? With an uncertain future, it's hard to tell.

"This epidemic is still evolving, so I don't think anyone knows how it's going to end up," said Alan Witchey, president and CEO of the Damien Center. "So the need is evolving with that. The need today is going to be different than the need tomorrow — and probably different that in a month or two months."

Burden on all sides

The pandemic has even strained the very organizations tasked with helping Indianapolis residents. 

In one survey of more than 500 Indiana nonprofits released last month, a majority said they had reduced, suspended or even ended some of their programs. A majority also had to cancel fundraisers.

"We certainly hope that policymakers recognize the important role that nonprofits play in local communities and help them kind of weather this storm," said Kirsten Gronbjerg, a researcher and professor at the O'Neill school of Public and Environmental Affairs at IU-Bloomington. "I know that the public sector is facing its own constraints and limitations."

So is Boyd, who doesn't stand much of a chance of making money from catering while the pandemic rages. 

"I got this whole house furnished, this is all my stuff," he said, standing on his front porch. "And if I have to move then I have to put it all (away) and figure out where we're going to move to, and where am I going to put all my stuff."

Call IndyStar reporter Amelia Pak-Harvey at 317-444-6175 or email her at apakharvey@indystar.com. Follow her on Twitter @AmeliaPakHarvey.