Hidden away from cars, homes and businesses in the thick woods between Kittanning and Monroe streets lies an impromptu homeless community known by its ragtag residents and county officials as “tent city.”

Devin Cunningham, the homeless programs and SOAR supervisor at the Center for Community Resources on Main Street, said a group of county officials visits the tent city about once per month.

“We offer assistance and services in the hopes that we can convince them to take the services and get some housing assistance,” Cunningham said.

He said there are five to 10 tents at any given time during all four seasons, along with an adjacent fire ring surrounded by stumps and homemade benches.

“Some have been living there for a long time and they're satisfied with that,” Cunningham said.

He said the occupants of tent city range in age from 18 to their 60s, and some are couples.

Cunningham said financial struggles, mental health or drug and alcohol issues, or even a death in the family are reasons that people are living at the tent city.

They eat free meals at the various churches and organizations that offer them, and Cunningham's group sometimes brings food collected throughout the county.

Once per year, the county group takes blankets and sleeping bags to the tent city.

The residents can shower at the Grapevine Center on North Elm Street, and as for bathrooms, Cunningham said the folks in tent city are not discriminating.

“They use the woods,” he said.

Some spend the day at the tent city, visit the Grapevine Center, visit friends in town, and some go to work, Cunningham said.

“It really depends which person it is and what their social history is like,” he said.

Cunningham assumes the tent city residents do not use the county-provided temporary housing, like the Grace Youth and Family Foundation's warming shelter, because they are actively using drugs, don't have a photo identification or have a significant criminal record.

“But some are content back there,” Cunningham said. “That's the life they've become accustomed to and they are OK with it.”

A few months ago, a few of the tents caught fire and destroyed the meager collection of belongings the occupants had.

“It may not seem like much to some people, but to them, that was their whole life,” he said.

County officials provided them with as much help as they could, and some did relent and seek official temporary housing, Cunningham said.

The tent city has existed since he started working at CCR six years ago, said Cunningham, but he does not know how long it has been hidden in the woods of Butler.

“It's important for everyone to know these are just humans like you and I,” Cunningham said. “Just because they struck bad luck somewhere in their lives doesn't mean they should be given up on.”

'Some are good guys'

Ryan Covert is the co-owner of the Hot Dog Shop on South Monroe Street, which sits near the entrance to the woods that hide tent city.

He said he has had some problems, but he's not sure who is homeless.

“Some of these guys are bums, but may have places to live,” Covert said.

Others, he said, look out for his business and try to keep trouble away.

Some sit at his outdoor picnic tables, panhandle from customers, use cigarette buckets for toilets or plug their phones into his exterior outlets.

“If they panhandle money, I run them out of here for sure,” Covert said.

He pays a few men occasionally to pick up refuse around the building.

“Some are good guys,” Covert said, “and some are just looking to be disruptive.”

He said the business' former owner gave away unsold hot dogs at closing time, causing people to line up outside. Covert did not carry on the tradition.

“I lost customers over that,” he said.

While Covert feels for those who are truly down on their luck, he said he must protect his business.

“I rule with an iron fist down here,” he said.

Hayley Merchant, CCR's senior manager of programs, said her office performs about 1,000 intakes per year for homeless families and individuals.

She said at any given time, there are 80 people on her waiting list for housing in one of the county's programs. Merchant said 35 percent of those on the waiting list are children.

Many, she said, are working but cannot afford even the most basic apartment on minimum wage.

“There's no way they're going to afford a one-bedroom (apartment) at $600 a month,” Merchant said. “I want people to know that the picture of homelessness that everyone has isn't necessarily the picture of all these people.”

A coal miner's story

Donald Smith camps alone in a rural area outside of town as he waits for Catholic Charities to find him a sleeping room in the next week or two.

To pass the time, he reads books from the library.

“I'm a big reader,” said the 58-year-old homeless man. “Right now, I'm reading a Robert Ludlum novel.”

Smith hitchhiked to Butler in early August after his landlord sold his apartment building in his native Altoona, Blair County.

“It took me three days,” Smith said, “but I had my tent and my sleeping bag with me, so it wasn't too bad.”

He heard Butler County is very helpful to the homeless and has more job opportunities. He now works for PeopleReady on East Jefferson Street, where workers gather early each weekday morning for a ride to their designated job, which is usually labor.

“I'll do any kind of work,” Smith said. “Right now, we're cleaning out warehouses in Cranberry (Township).”

He eats chocolate doughnuts for breakfast, and attends free dinners each night offered by various organizations.

“Then I go back to my camp and read until I fall asleep,” he said.

The bearded, bespectacled Smith said he has no family left.

“My Mum and Dad have passed away and my brother committed suicide,” Smith said. “I'm all alone in this world at the moment.”

He said seeing young families going about their daily lives pulls at his heartstrings sometimes.

“It makes me sad, but it also makes me proud because those children are the future of America,” Smith said. “I admit it makes me sort of envious at times, too.”

As a young man Smith followed his father into the coal mines of Blair County, where the elder Smith worked for 30 years before contracting black lung and leaving the mine.

“Six months later, he was dead,” Smith said.

Smith toiled underground from 1977 to 1981, when the mine shut down.

“I think about the past sometimes, and maybe having a better future,” he said.

While he tries not to think about that future too often, he has come to some stark realizations.

“I'm not a young man anymore and I can't get Social Security for several years,” Smith said. “I realize that I have to work every day 'til I'm dead.”

But don't expect to see Donald Smith complaining about his lot in life.

“There are a lot of things in this world that are bad, but mostly it's good,” he said. “I love it here in the U.S.A., the greatest country on Earth.”

Smith plans to work hard and eke out a living, and he appreciates the efforts of Catholic Charities to help him get on his feet.

“I'm going to make it work out,” Smith said. “I'm determined.”

To help the homeless

Many opportunities for county residents to help the homeless are coming in November, which is Homeless Awareness Month in Butler County.

Until then, monetary, food, bedding, and sometimes, furniture donations are accepted at the CCR office at 212-214 S. Main St.

Cunningham said donors should call the office at 724-431-0095 before bringing donations to the office.