The Graying of America's Homeless: An Alarming Trend

The pandemic has had an impact too: Most of the emergency eviction bans enacted to protect those who lost jobs as COVID-19 descended have ended or are timing out, says Cho at HUD. Meanwhile, he and others say the safety net for older Americans is fraying.​

For example, in Hartford, Connecticut, the pandemic prompted an influx of newcomers from New York and Boston, says Kara Capone, CEO of Hartford’s Community Housing Advocates. At the same time, corporations bought up older apartment buildings, converting them into luxury properties and replacing the city’s “mom-and-pop” landlords who charged reasonable rents. ​

Against this backdrop, Community Housing Advocates’ soup kitchen has lately seen a spike in requests for meals and food, and most of those lining up are older people, Capone says. She calls the scenario a “canary-in-the-coal-mine” indicator because those who are food insecure are at risk of losing their home or apartment. The result, she says, is that she’s seen “dramatic increases in elderly homelessness.” ​

Graying of the homeless​

Nearly 1 in 5 people in the U.S. without a permanent place to live are 55 and older, HUD’s most recent data shows. In 2020, the number HUD counted as homeless nationally was 580,466, and 18 percent — roughly the population of Boulder, Colorado — were 55 and older. The spike in unhoused older folks has been called the graying of America’s homeless.​

Within HUD’s total, some people counted were in shelters; others were living on the streets. But critics say HUD’s estimates don’t capture the full scale of homelessness since some people aren’t tallied, like families doubling up on an emergency basis or people temporarily bunking with friends.​

Doreen Nelson contracted COVID-19 in a shelter.

Jared Soares

Doreen Nelson, 64, has done all of that since being evicted years ago in New Rochelle, New York. Nelson and her granddaughter, whom she has raised since birth, cycled in and out of shelters and stayed with relatives or friends. Last Christmas Nelson came down with COVID-19 in a shelter, which moved her and her granddaughter into a hotel to quarantine. That’s where Nelson’s granddaughter got COVID too.​

Nelson has experienced “meager years of homelessness and displacement,” she says. “You’re broken to a certain extent.”​

A devout Christian who binge-watches HGTV’s Property Brothers show, Nelson kept praying. In August she and her 11-year-old granddaughter moved into a two-bedroom apartment near Washington thanks to a $2,200-a-month federal Housing Choice voucher.​

Paying the landlord or the pharmacy​

Housing officials often note the many and various reasons older adults are without permanent housing. Consider San Francisco, the finance and tech hub where the average monthly rent for a one-bedroom apartment was $3,428, according to Rent.com. For years the city has wrestled with homelessness, which across the U.S. disproportionately hits people of color.​

Shireen McSpadden, executive director of San Francisco’s Department of Homelessness and Supportive Housing, says that local officials are “seeing a rising number of people becoming homeless for the first time after the age of 50” and that adults age 60-plus are the “fastest-growing segment” among California’s homeless.​

The problem is so significant that San Francisco is planning a shelter for older adults and people with disabilities. The facility won’t have bunk beds, which pose fall risks, and may feature roll-in showers for individuals in wheelchairs, she says.​

McSpadden, like other advocates, preaches prevention and says helping people pay for medications, for example, or bringing in Meals on Wheels can stave off homelessness for those who must decide whether to pay their landlord or their pharmacy.​

But the issue goes beyond the financial bottom line. Studies show that older unhoused people have problems performing daily activities and have greater difficulty with “walking, vision and hearing, and falls and frailty compared to the general population,” McSpadden says, adding that “they’re much more likely to suffer from cognitive impairments, compared to younger homeless adults.” ​

Homelessness pummels the body, says Margot Kushel, M.D., a professor at the University of California San Francisco who has led longitudinal studies on unhoused, older adults. Her catchphrase: “Fifty is the new 75” when it comes to people without a permanent place to reside. ​

Whether unhoused people bed down in an abandoned building or on a park bench or under a tent, they tend to be exposed to the elements, eat poorly, sleep fitfully, skip medications and shun doctors and dentists. Moreover, says Kushel, who also is director of UCSF’s Benioff Homelessness and Housing Initiative, their circumstances trigger anxiety and depression, leading some to self-medicate with alcohol or drugs.​

A ‘precarious’ job market​

Rozelle, in Kansas, says sleeping in the car has hurt his health. A diabetic with hypertension, Rozelle landed in the hospital for four days in August after his blood pressure shot up. 

Rozelle also acknowledges multiple setbacks before he took up residence in his Nissan. ​He got divorced, gave up his apartment because he couldn’t pay the rent and lost his job last spring.

The former human resources staffer had been cleaning school classrooms to make ends meet.​ People age 50-plus have had the toughest time reentering the job market after both the Great Recession and the onset of the pandemic, says University of Pennsylvania social policy professor Dennis P. Culhane, an expert on homelessness. “It’s a precarious age for the labor market,” he notes.​

Moreover, if a person loses a parent or spouse who was helping with housing costs, the death may send survivors packing, Culhane says.​

After Rozelle’s marriage collapsed, he slept in his car in his ex-wife’s driveway. Later he stayed with a brother in Missouri, and, until his money ran out, in budget hotels. He’s particularly unhappy about not having a place for his son to visit and be comfortable. ​

“It’s pretty sad,” he says, not having a “place to lay your head down.” ​

Editor's note: This article was originally published on December 16, 2022. It has been updated to reflect new information.