PORTLAND — At 6:30 p.m. on a recent Thursday, about 11 people were lined up along the wall of the Salvation Army’s newly reopened overnight women’s shelter in Old Town. It was 43 degrees and dark.
Most of the women were huddled in big coats against the chill, hands in pockets, noses in collars. One lay on the cement sidewalk, her head propped on her backpack, her eyes closed. Another walked back and forth, presumably to keep warm, a blanket slung over her shoulders.
This scene is one that could soon repeat itself across the city with far more frequency if Portland Mayor Keith Wilson has his way. Opening dozens of overnight-only shelters across the city in an ambitious attempt to quickly end unsheltered homelessness in Portland was his hallmark campaign promise. It helped him into office with 59% of the vote after 20 rounds of vote counting under the city’s first election using ranked-choice voting.
And, less than seven days into his term, Wilson had already notched a win by opening two overnight shelters with a combined 200 beds. Both are run by the Salvation Army and funded jointly by the city and Multnomah County.
An older woman whose preferred name is Raven sat in her wheelchair, leather purse in her lap, and scrolled TikTok.
“It’s a good one,” she said of the Salvation Army women’s shelter, which has room for 52 guests in a dorm-style room with metal cots laid out in a grid pattern. “I like it. I feel safe in there.”
Thursday would be her third night at the shelter, which opened Tuesday. Raven, who gets a disability check that she said won’t cover rent for a decent apartment in Portland, said it was nice to go in somewhere warm, “especially if you’re not feeling good.”
Another woman, who declined to give her name, agreed. She’d been sleeping on a park bench, which she said aggravated the pinched nerve in her back. And last week, with the cold and the pouring rain, it had been especially bad. She said she’d worried that she would freeze outside. But she’d made it. And this would be her second night at the shelter.
The shelter staff here were kind, she said, and she’d slept well in the bed she’d been assigned. She was looking forward to another good night of sleep.
There was an overnight women’s shelter at the same location for 20 years before it closed in 2019. Salvation Army staff who spoke at a Monday media tour said that allowed them to get the shelter up and running very quickly when the public money became available. Blanchet House, an Old Town nonprofit offering free meals and clothing to homeless people, announced in December that it also plans to open a new overnight women’s shelter by spring using private funding.
Despite the political win of getting 200 new shelter beds open in just one week, much work remains for Wilson to fulfill his campaign promise. For one thing, there’s only enough public funding agreed on so far to keep the new shelters running for 90 days. Nevertheless, Raven and other women in line Thursday night said it’s a welcome respite.
“What time is it?” one woman called out. Many people had started bouncing on the balls of their feet to stay warm. One woman did squats.
“It’s 6:43,” Raven called back.
A handwritten sign on a piece of yellow lined notebook paper was taped to the window of the shelter: “We open at 7 p.m. tonight!”
Raven said a 24-hour shelter would be her preference. Or the city should open more day centers. Being outside in the cold was no good, she said: “Easy to get sick, hard to get better.”
Wilson has said he would like to open more day centers throughout the city to create a place for people to spend time and connect with services. That’s also a priority for Multnomah County, which has recently invested in expanding day services and currently funds eight day centers, with two more due to open this year.
A woman in a bright yellow puffy coat said she was 68 and had been living outside for 15 years. She said she was glad to have a place to sleep without any men allowed in.
“It’s really a bummer to be forced to be co-ed when we don’t want to be,” said the woman, who declined to give her name. “There’s no (women’s) shelters downtown anymore, there haven’t been for years.”
She’d heard about this shelter through word of mouth while eating at Blanchet House, she said. Thursday would be her second night.
At 6:53 p.m., a Salvation Army staff member came out and counted the people in line — it was up to 14. He told everyone they’d be let in starting right at 7 p.m. in groups of one or two at a time.
As the staff member went back inside, a woman in white cowboy boots turned to Raven.
“Is there food?” she asked.
“Just a snack,” Raven replied. But there are clean sheets and blankets, she added, and “wake-up is at 6.”
“Thank you for telling me that. I get a little shy,” the other woman said.
One woman walked down the street muttering, “I won’t go into the shelter. I’m not. I won’t go in.” She stopped and spoke to some other people in line for a few minutes, then continued down the block and turned the corner.
At 6:58 p.m., the door opened again and the first few women went in to share their names and claim their beds for the night. The Old Town women’s shelter is low-barrier, meaning very little is required to get a bed. Substances can’t be used inside, but no one is turned away for not being sober. And no government ID is required. Guests must agree to not act violently and to observe quiet time between 10 p.m. and 6 a.m.
Well-behaved pets are also allowed, though none of the women waiting for a bed Thursday night had an animal. Most had no more than a single bag of belongings.
The last woman in line wore a cropped tan coat. She had two large suitcases and a Trader Joe’s bag.
“Can you help someone who is stranded in Portland?” she asked. She explained that she’d been headed to California from Seattle on the train, but that the person who had bought her ticket didn’t pay for the whole way, so she’d been kicked off in Portland two nights earlier.
The woman, who asked for her name not to be used, stayed in the shelter Wednesday night and found it more comfortable and less smelly than she’d expected. She had a place to stay with a friend in California, she said, if only she could get there. She wasn’t sure how she was going to do that, though. Her phone had died, and it didn’t have a SIM card.
She said she’d been bouncing around between friends’ homes for a while — ever since “a bad divorce.”
By 7:21 p.m., all of the shelter’s guests had gone inside — a total of 17, according to Peter Pemberton, the Portland metro coordinator for the Salvation Army. More than 30 beds would remain empty at the women’s shelter that night.
Twenty-three beds, out of 148 total, were used on Thursday night at the all-gender shelter in North Portland, according to Pemberton. The usage numbers have been about the same since the shelters opened Tuesday, he said.
“We are still very early in opening the doors on both locations, so the numbers are low but growing each night,” Pemberton said. “Our outreach teams are informing people about sheltering availability, but word of mouth is having a significant effect as well.”
With the women inside, the street was quiet, dark and colder. The temperature had dipped another degree while they waited.
A few minutes later the Salvation Army staffer came back out and walked down the side of the building to a nook where a woman was curled up in a sleeping bag. She’d been staying there for the better part of two years, he said. She’d been invited inside before — the Salvation Army has long owned the building.
The staff member greeted the woman by name and invited her inside.
She didn’t go in.
Lillian Mongeau Hughes covers homelessness and mental health for The Oregonian. Email her with tips or questions at lmhughes@oregonian.com. Or follow her on Bluesky @lmonghughes.bsky.social or X at @lrmongeau.
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