VOUCHERS

She attributed part of the higher demand to the pandemic, which impacted many workers and families.

Another theory comes from Reitz, who said higher demand could be because salaries and wages have not kept up with rising housing costs.

Unit scarcity

In addition to the lack of funding, LiFari said the lack of physical housing supply is a detriment to the function of housing voucher program.

“We just don’t have enough units,” he said. “We don’t even have enough housing to support folks that are above the poverty line … because we just abandoned building for one another.” ner’s wheelchair got caught in some weeds in a eld. He spent hours there, yelling for help, until a couple happened upon him. e couple befriended Garner, brought him some basic necessities, and got him into a detox facility. After a few stints, Garner has now been sober for more than four years.

“But the patience that these strangers showed me was something that was unbelievable to me,” Garner said. “I will never forget before they took me in the third time telling them: ‘Well, what if I just do this again? You know, what if I, what if you take me to this detox, you come pick me up, and I just start drinking again?’”

Garner said the couple told him they would keep trying. Services like detox are di cult to use for people with addictions and mental health issues, as they often have no support system to encourage them to go, as well as there often being little state support.

In 2019, a study showed that about 20% of all Americans were a ected by mental illness in the past year. According to e National Coalition for Homelessness the general e ects of various mental illnesses “disrupt people’s ability to carry out essential aspects of daily life,” as well as make social bonds.

“ is often results in pushing away caregivers, family, and friends who may be the force keeping that person from becoming homeless,” the report elaborated.

But the couple that helped Garner in e lack of units creates scarcity in the housing market, LiFari said. With high demand, competition and rents increase across the region.

As a result, “lower-income Coloradans are left on the outside looking in,” he said.

“ e program can’t run unless there’s houses and units where people live, right?” he said. “So, without that, we’re just creating this ‘Hunger Games’ construct.”

After being chosen for a voucher, the competition begins. People have about two months to nd a home to rent and sign the lease. But that’s not enough time for many folks to nd homes and Maracenas elds many requests for extensions for as many as four more months.

Even with these extensions, LiFari said the highly competitive market presents a challenging dynamic for people to nd that eld became his support, hosting him until they fell on hard times and divorced.

Eventually, Garner’s friend helped him get a studio apartment in Evergreen, helping to pay rent for the rst three months.

“So I stayed those rst three months and realized I didn’t want to leave,” Garner said.

Garner said without his friend helping with rst and last month’s rent and more in those rst three months, he wouldn’t have been able to a ord it. After the rst three months, Garner continued to stay in the apartment, getting help from friends. He got what he needed, he said, but it wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t how he wanted to live.

“I come from the salt of the earth, blue collar, working folk, you know, and really, at the bottom line, I’m just trying to work in any way I can,” he said. “All I’m trying to do is provide for myself.”

The housing and wage gap

Part of this di culty, especially in Evergreen, is the gap between wages and housing costs. is lack of a ordable housing acts doubly as a factor for becoming homeless and a barrier from escaping it.

Adam Galbraith works as a bartender at Cactus Jack’s in Evergreen. He said the only reason he can save money at all is because his 1,100-square-foot apartment has four people in it.

“If you’ve got roommates, that’s the only way you’re going to save money,” vacant units within the time frame. Part of this is because renters must be approved for leases by landlords and there are many barriers that can work against voucher holders – from the potential for discrimination to criminal records

Is it a solution?

In LiFari’s eyes, the housing choice voucher program “only exists as medicine for a misdiagnosed illness.”

Although it certainly makes a di erence in combating homelessness, he said American society and government need to focus more on the root of the problem.

“ e program is a function of how we value people and how we value where they live,” he said. “We refuse to address the root cause of the illness because then we have to view how we view poverty.”

For Hernandez, viewing poverty real- he said. It’s also the only reason he can live in Evergreen, along with his landlord keeping rent lower than it could be at $1,500, “so locals would rent it.” Others he knows have seen their landlord sell the property and give them two months to get out — he’s had it happen to himself twice.

Evergreen isn’t really the place to perform hip hop on the corner, but Garner had a background in performance and music — participating in rap battles and the underground scene in his younger years under his stage name, LaKryth. After practicing, studying and preparing, he took to the streets with his guitar, not in his wheelchair, but instead standing on prosthetic legs.

“I’m a pretty damn good musician, you know, and I can sing pretty damn good too, but I’m not going to pretend like I’m oblivious to the fact that my disability and my prosthetics aren’t a contributing factor to the response that I’ve made in the community,” Garner said.

After getting attention on social media, he began to book more gigs, participate in rap battles, and through participating in Colorado Community Media’s housing series panel discussion, met the owner of Cactus Jack’s Saloon, where he is now host of the weekly open-mic night.

He said he can’t work a job “on paper,” and he still faces struggles with his health and well-being. Garner has a roof over his head and food to eat. He says that’s all he can ask for.

istically is important.

“Believe me — a lot of people don’t want to be depending on the government,” Hernandez said. “But at the same time, they need (vouchers) because it’s crazy out there.”

Although the housing choice voucher program is not perfect, LiFari said it still makes an impact.

“We have no other way that reaches the scale and has the complexity to be able to address individual housing markets, to drive housing stability and stave o extreme poverty and homelessness than this program,” he said.

And on top of that, Hernandez said it makes an important di erence in people’s spirits.

“It’s good for people to get (themselves) on the right track,” he said. “It’s a good thing to get your sense of, you know, you’re involved in society, you’re part of something.”

Searching for a home

After leaving the house he owned near Houston, Texas, more than a decade ago, Laney knew buying a home in Denver would be a near-impossible feat.

He was making good money at a medical diagnostics company and had been able to purchase a brand-new home in a Houston suburb for less than $150,000. But his mental health was su ering and he knew he needed a change. With friends living in Colorado at the time, Laney decided to move more than 1,000 miles north to Denver.

With his fresh start came the opportunity to dive into a longtime passion: wine. He took classes to become a sommelier — a trained wine professional. He sold wine to businesses across the metro area, worked part-time at a cozy wine bar and restaurant in the heart of Littleton’s historic downtown, and eventually landed a full-time job at Jake’s.

Laney settled on wherever he could nd the most a ordable apartment — something hovering around $1,000 per month, in places around Denver. e ones he found in Littleton were too run-down. As rents around the region rose, Laney moved ve times in six years.

“During this whole process I knew I wanted a house,” Laney said. “I wanted something that was my own, and it’s hard to build a home in an apartment, especially when you keep moving.”

Laney’s experiences came as Littleton residents expressed less con dence that their city was a ordable. From 2012 to 2022, residents who cited a ordable cost of living as a reason for living in Littleton declined from 30% to 14%, according to biennial city-issued surveys of hundreds of residents. Over those same years, residents who said a ordable housing and rental rates were a reason for living in the city went from 20% to 9%.

Laney said he worked, saved and kept his spending habits to a minimum during those years, staying laser-focused on his ultimate prize. Credit-card debt from college “really destroyed a lot of opportunities,” he said, but he kept “working, working, working.”

Even though Laney estimates he was making about $48,000 yearly, he says he was far short of what he needed for a down payment on even the least expensive of homes in Littleton.

He wasn’t alone. A 2020 analysis from Denver-based contractor Root Policy showed that individuals who earned $29,000 to $95,000 yearly in the metro area could not a ord the average price of a home, which was nearly $420,000 that year.

“It’s a pretty serious situation,” said Corey Reitz, executive director of Littleton’s housing authority, South Metro Housing Options. “ e list of folks who can’t continue to live here continues to grow.” at list, according to Root’s analysis, in - cludes workers in health care, education, construction, food service and more.

Essential workers risk being priced out

Sta ers at Swedish Medical Center in Englewood say the housing problem also a ects them. ey blame the shortage of essential hospital workers they’re contending with, in part, on the cost of housing.

“Absolutely the rising cost of housing here in Colorado is a topic,” said Dena Schmaedecke, the hospital’s vice president of human resources. “Colleagues are often bringing up those stresses.” at housing-cost factor has caused hospital leaders to o er a $10,000 housing stipend to incentivize new employees, Schmaedecke said.

In Brighton, northeast of Denver, Michael Clow, chief human resources o cer for 27J Schools, said the cost of housing has impacted the district’s ability to maintain and support sta .

“We hear from candidates and from our new hires that the cost of housing and their ability to nd housing is a real problem,” Clow said. “ We recently had two math teachers (husband and wife) join us. ey were excited to live their dream and move to Colorado. After just one year and realizing they could not a ord to raise a family here, they moved back to their home state.”

Clow said the crisis has restricted the district’s pool of applicants graduating with teaching degrees, creating intense competition for sta and teachers.

“ e cost of housing is becoming a serious obstacle for us to maintain service levels and serve our mission,” he said.

Farther north, in Fort Lupton, the Weld R-8 School District has faced similar pressures.

Superintendent Alan Kaylor said the annual salary for a rst-year teacher in the district is about $41,000.

Kaylor bought his home in 1995 for $72,000. He said a home across the street from his was recently listed at $685,000. e price of that house across the street rose more than four times faster than the pace of in ation, according to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics’ in ation calculator.

“How can any family a ord that?” he asked. “Something has to give. After a while, you have to wonder how long people will tolerate living on teachers’ wages.”

Even for some residents making a larger income, housing remains elusive.

West of Denver, in Evergreen, husband and wife Bill and Charm Connelly bring in a combined six- gure salary.

Bill Connelly is an insurance agent and blackjack dealer for a Black Hawk casino. Charm is the front-house general manager for Cactus Jack’s, a bar and restaurant in Evergreen. e two rent a three-bedroom home and are struggling to save for a house. Even downsizing to something smaller, they said, would likely increase their spending by roughly $400 a month. e two currently pay $2,200 per month on rent.

“I feel like a failure. I nally get a good fulltime job making great money, and eight years ago, 10 years ago, we could easily have gotten something,” Bill Connelly said.

“Between the two of us, I see what we make,” Charm said. “We are making decent money, but I want to be able to save money and not blow it all on rent.”

For Adam Galbraith, a Cactus Jack’s bartender, the only way to keep his rent a ordable is to live with others.

“ e only reason I’m able to save money is because it’s a 1,100-square-foot place and we crammed four people in it,” Galbraith said, adding monthly rent is about $1,500. “If you’ve got roommates, that’s the only way you’re going to save money.”

A housing ‘limbo’

Near the end of 2019, Laney, the Littleton bartender, was beginning to feel more condent about reaching his goal for a down payment. He’d paid o his car and credit-card debt and said he “worked hard to keep it that way.” His savings account was beginning to bulk up. en came COVID-19.

Years of careful saving and unyielding restraint on spending evaporated in months. Laney was forced to drain his savings account during the beginning of the pandemic amid lockdowns. He received nothing from the federal government’s Paycheck Protection Program, though he would gain $3,200 from stimulus checks in the months to come. Still, he was hanging on.

It was “the community around Jake’s, our regulars, who kept us alive,” Laney said.

“I was there every single day, for damn near a year,” he said, with the bar able to do curbside orders even as its indoors remained shuttered.

Before the pandemic, Laney estimates he brought in about $4,000 each month before taxes. By the end of the month, after paying for rent, utilities, groceries and gas, he would be left with just $200 to $300, which usually went into his savings.

Living that way was “terrifying,” said Laney, who always felt he could be on the edge of losing his housing should he have a bad month.

e pandemic only exacerbated the uncertainty.

As his savings depleted, Laney’s dream of owning a home never seemed further away.

But his resolve didn’t waver and he used what federal relief he had to rebuild his savings because, as he put it, “I had a goal: I wanted a house. When I came out of the tunnel I knew what I wanted.”

By 2021, he started looking again. A townhome might come up on the market — far from perfect, but within Laney’s means — and he would ready himself to put down an o er. It never was enough.

“Someone comes in and puts 20k cash on the o er, or 30k or 40k,” Laney said. “I went through about a year and a half of that and I knew in my head I was not going to be able to

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get a house.”

A real-estate agent who came into his bar told Laney to apply for a $300,000 bank loan. He had good credit, the agent told him, and would be a shoo-in for the money.

“ ree hundred thousand dollars does not get you a townhome,” Laney thought to himself.

He was frustrated. More than frustrated. He felt depressed.

“I’d done everything right, everything I was supposed to do and it still didn’t matter,” he said. “I’m just stuck, like the hundreds of thousands of other people, in limbo.” at did not come with the guarantee of a home. Laney was in a line of people just like him and demand far outweighed supply. Number 10 was his position. Who knew how many more were behind him, he thought. en it happened. Laney was made an o er, a 1,275-squarefoot detached home near Ketring Park in central Littleton valued at $285,000, roughly a third of what similar properties sold for.

Laney’s luck began to turn near the end of 2021 when he heard there were about to be dozens of single-family homes for sale in Littleton for less than $300,000. He thought it was too good to be true.

‘We can’t all win the lottery’ at year, South Metro Housing Options, which manages a ordable properties throughout Littleton, sold 59 of its single-family homes to Habitat for Humanity of Metro Denver, which pledged to renovate the units and sell them at a below-market price.

Laney’s hourly wage had slightly increased since the pandemic from $8 to $10, though 90% of his income still came from tips, he said. Still, Laney believed he met the nancial requirements for a Habitat home, which would only sell to peoplewho earn no more than 80% of the area’s median income.

But when Laney applied to be on a waitlist at the beginning of 2022, he was quickly denied. He was told his income, roughly $56,000 when he applied, exceeded the cap by less than $1,000.

Laney said he was actually making less than that, about $54,000, but because Habitat counted his “unrealized interest gains,” such as money held in stocks, Laney was over the threshold.

Habitat was also only looking at the income of recent months, Laney said, rather than his income over the past year. is made it look like he made more than he did because his monthto-month income would uctuate dramatically based on tips. He applied again and was denied again, this time for making just $300 more than the cut-o . But, a slow month at work turned out to be a good thing. His income dipped just enough that by the third time he applied he made it on the waitlist.

“I can’t even express how happy I was,” Laney said. “I’ve been living and serving this community for 10 years and I want to live here.”

Still, the program has some drawbacks compared to traditional homeownership. Laney cannot build as much equity as many of his neighbors because he does not own the property the home sits on. Instead, it is owned by something called a land trust — a collection of entities.

“ e beauty of the land trust is it removes the cost of the land from the equation from the cost of the home,” said Kate Hilberg, director of real estate development for Habitat for Humanity. “It allows the homeowners to pay on that mortgage for that home and improvements to that home but not the land.”

Land trusts are crucial tools organizations like Habitat use to lock in the a ordability of homes even as property values rise elsewhere. e owners of these units will see some equity from their homes, Hilberg said, about 2% each year. But it won’t be enough to match the likes of homeowners who have used their growing property values to build decades of generational wealth.

“A lot of families use this as a starter home option and they do gain enough equity and stability to turn that into a down payment on a home in the open market,” Hilberg said of homes under land trusts.

But fathoming a concept like equity is a luxury for those who still can’t buy a house on the market, Laney said.

While he’s thankful for what Habitat did for him, he fears the few dozen homes it manages in Littleton can only go so far to meet the demand of hundreds, if not thousands, of residents who have struggled as he has.

“ ere isn’t enough incomebased housing for people … the people who live and work in this community can’t a ord a house,” Laney said. “We can’t all win the lottery.”

Colorado Community Reporters Andrew Fraieli, Steve Smith, Tayler Shaw and Ellis Arnold contributed reporting to this story.