Structure has been important for Heather Fluke this year.

Not necessarily in the physical sense, but in the internal sense — how she structures her life, and her understanding of the world.

“I have a lot more structure within who I am. I only tidbits before. ‘Oh, I like that. Oh, I like that.’ I like the structure that I’m that building,” Fluke said in November. “I was able to find that structure because I started learning the truth, about who we are and where we come from.”

That newfound structure came from reading, reflection on her own spirituality and a better understanding of her own homelessness.

When Fluke spoke to The Bulletin in January for the first profile in the newspaper’s Faces of Homelessness series, spending nights at the Redmond Winter Shelter after a big change in life plans, she considered herself homeless.

Since then, Bulletin reporters have profiled more than 30 of the 1,100-plus people like Fluke experiencing homelessness in Central Oregon. The stories profiled people from Redmond to La Pine and Prineville to Sisters, ranging in age from 1 to 79.

“I mean, there’s a lot more people that are in this situation that people are talking to on a day-to-day basis and don’t even realize (are homeless),” Fluke said.

Since her first interview, Fluke’s life has changed. She spent parts of the year living in Boise, Klamath Falls, Salem and on the Oregon Coast. She’s rekindled relationships with some family members and has started driving for DoorDash, a job she says provides the flexibility she wants.

And while Fluke still lives in her car, she no longer considers herself homeless, thanks to her newfound internal structure.

“That’s why I guess I’m not really ‘homeless.’ I still feel complete within me,” Fluke said. “I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel more at home with myself now than I did when I talked to you (The Bulletin) in January.”

Readers react to year-long series

Some Bulletin readers who shared their reflections in a survey about the series said it helped them better understand homelessness in the region.

“Showing the faces and stories allows readers to realize these are people — you and me — and a lot of them have endured harsh things in their lives,” Tucker Willow, of Bend, wrote in response to the newspaper’s survey.

Other readers said the series made them want to see change.

“It put a human face on an abstraction,” wrote Bend reader Don Kunz. “It made me want to find a way to save them all from their suffering.”

And for some readers, the Faces of Homelessness series created more questions about how the community should respond to different kinds of homelessness.

“Obviously, we learned from the interviews why some are homeless but also that not everyone wants to live under a roof and between four walls,” wrote Ron Robbel, of Bend. “How many homeless people are in each category needs to be determined and then plan accordingly. Trying to make one size fit all, which I believe has been the approach, is not the solution, and approaching it that way will never solve the needs of the homeless who do not wish to stay homeless.”

Elected leaders also responded to the series.

As a mom, the stories throughout the Faces of Homelessness series that profiled mothers struck a chord with Bend City Councilor Megan Perkins. Specifically, the story of Kim Varner, a single mother raising her daughter in a trailer in Redmond, has stuck with her.

“It’s much easier to ignore or discount people if we don’t think about individuals,” Perkins said. “I think that this series helped our community recognize the unique and diverse and often tragic circumstances that lead to homelessness.”

For Mayor Pro Tem Anthony Broadman, it was the story of Daniel “Dray” Aguirre, a local community college student, that has stuck with him since February.

“People are so complex and that’s what these stories show,” Broadman said. “We are all very complex people in a complex set of circumstances especially if you’re living in homelessness — and especially if you’re living in unsheltered homelessness.”

The two city council members said it was the depth of character and the complex depictions of human experiences that moved them to return to the series time and time again.

Each story in the profile series was as unique as the people who told it. They were individuals and families, veterans and students, kitchen managers and retirees. They lived on public lands or friends’ couches, in shelters, leaky trailers or painstakingly built makeshift homes.

Still, follow-up interviews revealed a common theme: In a region without enough housing to meet peoples’ varied needs, many of those people are still living in those places, whether or not they want to.

Bulletin reporters reached back out to each person profiled in the series this year. Some were unreachable, but the stories of those who spoke to The Bulletin a second time are shared here.

Adrian and Buddy Blair

In January, when Adrian and Buddy Blair spoke to The Bulletin, the couple was living with their three kids in a trailer on National Forest land outside Sisters.

They were stuck in the middle: The paychecks from their jobs at the Sno-Cap Drive-In weren’t enough to afford housing in Sisters, but they were too much to qualify for housing assistance programs.

Now married, the financial part of the couple’s life remains the same. The Blairs continue driving their kids to school from the forest each day and remain in the gap between housing affordability and public assistance.

“We’re kind of stuck in the middle right now,” Adrian Blair said in an interview last month. “We don’t make enough to get into an apartment or a house over here.”

When they’re not busy trying to keep themselves afloat — Adrian Blair expects to need two to four 5-gallon propane tanks a week this winter — the Blairs have taken to advocating for others without homes. They’ve connected others who live in the woods near them connected with housing and other support services.

The Blairs have watched some of the same services they don’t qualify for themselves lead their neighbors in the forest to more stable living.

“Some of the services that the community is trying to offer us, not all of us fit that category,” Adrian Blair said. “I like seeing other people being able to use these services that I know will be able to use these services.”

Buddy Blair appeared on a community panel about homelessness in October, and the family was featured by other newspapers in the state for their stories about homelessness.

Aside from their advocacy, the Blairs have a glimmer of housing stability on the horizon, having gotten on the list for a house with Sisters Habitat for Humanity. They still have to help build the home and go through a number of other hoops that could take up to two years, but Adrian Blair is still optimistic about the prospect.

“It’ll improve my outlook knowing that it’s not all hopeless,” Adrian Blair said. “That quite frankly makes me ecstatic knowing that I can quite possibly own my own home.”

— Zack Demars

John Breen & Family

John Breen and his wife are still spending cold winter nights against the same wall of the Redmond Winter Shelter that they pushed mattresses up against at the beginning of this year.

When the family first spoke to The Bulletin in January, they’d been homeless for about five months after their rent was raised to an unaffordable price. Eleven months later, their housing situation is largely the same.

“It can happen to anybody,” Breen said earlier this month.

The family has been searching for an apartment or home to rent since they became homeless, but the options in the area remain too expensive, from a two-bedroom apartment running $1,800 a month to another requiring $6,500 upon move-in for a security deposit and other up-front charges.

The median rent for a 2-bedroom apartment in Redmond has increased 17% since January, from $1,514 a month when Breen first spoke to The Bulletin to $1,773 a month at the time of his second interview, according to data from Zumper, an apartment rental website.

The winter shelter closed for the season in March, leaving the Breens to live in their car, parking at bus stops or other safe places the long-time Redmond residents could find. That meant using a lot more gas to keep the car warm on chilly nights, like during April’s late-season cold snap.

Since the shelter reopened in November, the Breens have been back. John Breen is hoping they won’t be there all season again.

“Just trying to get by,” Breen said. “I’m hoping, keeping my fingers crossed.”

— Zack Demars

Duayne Dittmer

Things are much the same for retiree Duayne Dittmer, whom The Bulletin visited in January at his campsite nestled among the sprawling ponderosa forest that makes up this portion of the Deschutes National Forest. March marked the 59-year-old’s third year living in the forest.

As year four nears, Dittmer is still in the same spot, his trailer among those set back farther into the forest off of China Hat Road. When The Bulletin caught up with him again this month, he was still camping in the same spot as January.

A pair of Forest Service employees told Dittmer he’d have to move on a few months ago.

“I said, ‘I’m not going nowhere,'” Dittmer said.

Additionally, he’s doing well, he said. Though trash disposal and access to water remain issues, he has a generator for power and is content with life in his trailer, if not necessarily his location.

“I’m out here for a reason. I’m out here because I want to be,” he said. “I don’t want to deal with any of their $1,300 for an apartment for rental, that kind of crap. That’s ridiculous. However, I am looking for some land that I could buy, you know, because we can’t buy this land out here.”

Most of his immediate neighbors have stayed put, too, over the past year, though some closer to China Hat Road, which stretches into the forest and desert southeast of Bend, moved farther back.

“A lot of people left the front,” Dittmer said. “Which they needed to do anyway because they don’t want to be down there where everybody can see you.”

— David Jasper

John

In April, The Bulletin spoke with John, a 69-year-old Bend resident who was unable to find housing for himself due to the high cost of rent in the city where he has lived for 50 years.

John earns around $2,000 a month from his pension and social security, but that isn’t enough to afford a place in Bend, with rents for a one-bedroom costing around $1,400. He asked The Bulletin to only use his first name to maintain his privacy. 

John has been staying with a friend while he searched for housing, but the situation is not ideal. The friend is an elderly woman with a disability who tends to sleep most of the day.

John avoids the home in daytime hours to not disturb her sleep. He goes to Family Kitchen for meals and stays vigilant for apartment opportunities. He does chores around the home where he stays.

“I’ve been raking a lot of leaves,” he said. “There’re leaves everywhere.”

He has also been sidelined by Dupuytren’s contracture, a fibrous disorder that causes his fingers to curl up and requires frequent visits to a doctor.

After The Bulletin published a story about John he received a handful of opportunities for housing. One option came from a Redmond resident who said John could stay on her property at a nominal rate.

However, John has been without a driver’s license for some time, and the home was in a rural area outside Redmond, so the opportunity wasn’t a great fit for someone without a car.

John’s best hope for an apartment to call his own has been with a complex on Bend’s north side that offers affordable housing for seniors. The maximum rent for qualified applicants is $760, doable for John’s income.

The wait had been around two years but recently a unit became available, and John was first in line for it. However, a management change at the apartments hasn’t helped, and he hasn’t heard from anyone at the complex for two months.

“I can’t get a hold of them to talk to anyone,” said John. “I still haven’t seen the inside of the place. It’s just a long waiting process.”

If he does get the apartment, he has promised the woman he stays with now that he’ll return and assist her.

“She falls sometimes and needs help,” John said. “I’ll come over and check on her a few times a week, and I won’t be too far away. I can be there in 5 minutes.”

— Michael Kohn

Chuck Morse

Chuck Morse, as he was early last summer, is living a few miles west of Sisters in the ponderosa forest near U.S. Highway 20.

He arrived there last February from Coos County, living in a trailer and harboring a dream of buying 10 acres on which to live out his remaining days with his dog, Bro Bro.

“Money’s the only thing stopping me,” he said in late June.

He’s changed the specific location of his campsite since then. When he first spoke to The Bulletin, Morse, a 68-year-old father and grandfather, was making walking sticks and pursuing a wage-loss claim against a former employer in another part of the state. He lost that effort.

Meanwhile, he continues to make items such as the 6-foot cat tree of juniper limbs holding nine 1-by-12 shelves, mounted on a burned-pine base.

“Stunning coloring,” he said, adding he has plans to start making another one. “It’s a cat tree you ain’t never seen.” (It’s for sale. See it at tinyurl.com/junipercat.)

His plan now is to launch, or rather, relaunch, a stick furniture business.

“I got a number of irons in the fire,” Morse said. “I’ve got 35 years doing Adirondack-style furniture.”

— David Jasper

Sharline & Katrina Greene

The last six months have meant little change in the living situation for Sharline and Katrina Greene.

In the late spring, when the recent high school graduate and her mother first spoke to The Bulletin, they were “not completely homeless,” living doubled up at a friend’s home in La Pine after having to leave their home in Prineville. Katrina Greene was looking for a new job after leaving the caregiving field, and Sharline, her daughter, was trying to get some identification documents in order to get a job herself.

Now, the family says they’re in largely the same situation now as they were then.

“We’re in the same place, it’s alright,” Sharline Greene said earlier this month. “We’re probably going to stay there for a while.”

Their goal is still to find a place they can call their own, but that’s been hard to accomplish while Katrina Greene is caretaking for the friend they’re currently living with, she said.

“My goal is to have a home of our own that we can call home,” Katrina Greene said.

Sharline Greene is still working on getting those pieces of identification, she said.

“It’s very frustrating,” she said of the process.

In the meantime, though, the family remains in the same kind of partial homelessness they were in half a year ago.

“Still kind of in the middle,” Sharline Greene said of the family’s living situation. “It’s a roof over our heads, but it’s not a home.”

— Zack Demars

Cheryl “Shadow” Voneps

Despite her multiple sclerosis, Cheryl Voneps, 61, who goes by the name Shadow, still leads an independent life living in her motor home on Hunnell Road in Bend. Her whiskered companion, a 3-year-old cat named Garfield, keeps her company.

Since late July, her life hasn’t changed much. Someone stole her generator in the middle of the night, but she managed to stay warm this winter using space heaters and propane. Her ex-husband and the father of all four of her children died two months ago, she said. She’s made peace with his death after getting a visit from her son, a former marine, who came to Bend to inform his mother of the news.

One event that stands out for Voneps happened a few weeks ago when Bend police ordered her out of her motorhome at 1 a.m. Afterward she was mistaken for another individual who had committed a violent assault nearby.

“They had the SWAT team and everything out here,” Voneps recalled. “This place was lit up like a Christmas tree.”

Voneps, who uses a cane, was ordered out of her vehicle and told to place her hands on the hood. Police did not give her time to grab her cane, and then proceeded to search her vehicle.

Upon investigation, the police determined Voneps was not involved in the assault. The experience left her rattled, however.

“It was unreal,” Voneps said.

In retrospect, Voneps said while she was disappointed, she does not fault the police. The officers who searched Voneps’ home even told her Garfield was cool.

— Joe Siess

Glen Gray

Glen Gray, the retiree who enjoys neon-colored Slurpees, hasn’t seen much change since his story was printed in The Bulletin.

He still lives in a travel trailer, parked among sage and junipers just north of Highway 126 and the Redmond Airport. So far he’s staying warm, despite the cold. Although not much has changed, he says he’s doing well.

Gray, a lifelong Central Oregonian, decided to move into the junipers when his second wife passed away to be closer to family. He said in September that he doesn’t consider himself homeless and is just trying to enjoy his retirement as he prepares for surgery.

— Nick Rosenberger

Read each of the stories from The Bulletin’s Faces of Homelessness series at bendbulletin.us/facesofhomelessness.

Meet the real people in Central Oregon’s homeless crisis