The Virginian-Pilot
                             THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT 

              Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.



DATE: Wednesday, March 6, 1996               TAG: 9603050110

SECTION: VIRGINIA BEACH BEACON    PAGE: 08   EDITION: FINAL 

TYPE: Cover Story 

SOURCE: BY JO-ANN CLEGG, STAFF WRITER 

                                             LENGTH: Long  :  162 lines


SAVE OUR SAMARITANS THE DISTRESS SIGNAL GOES OUT: SAMARITAN HOUSE NEEDS $500,000 TO KEEP ITS 10 SHELTERS FOR VICTIMS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AND UNEXPECTED HOMELESSNESS.

A LARGE, DIVERSE group of community Samaritans in their own right have joined forces since mid-February to raise emergency aid for a 12-year-old temporary shelter for homeless families and victims of domestic violence.

Since about 200 supporters of Samaritan House gathered three weeks ago at Cox High School to kick off the most intensive fund-raising campaign in the organization's history, they have been joined by hundreds of others.

Among the contributors are a church that collected $1,200 ($1 for each member of its congregation); a young attorney who involved both his law firm and his service organization; businesses that have set out Samaritan House S.O.S. (``Save Our Shelters'') containers; and numerous support groups for young mothers, senior citizens and Navy wives.

Donations have ranged from one dollar to several thousands.

By Monday, they totaled $45,500. While that's only 9 percent of the shelter's $500,000 need, organizers say their efforts are on track.

Seeing the community rally to support Samaritan House is particularly meaningful to Sue Haycox, a Realtor who volunteered to spearhead the fund-raising. ``That's the beauty of this thing,'' she said. ``It's a 100 percent grassroots effort.''

The results are crucial to the future of the organization. They will determine whether or not the private, non-profit organization will retain much of its capacity to serve clients by this time next year.

The group, incorporated in 1984 as Virginia Beach Ecumenical Housing, was started by members of area churches and synagogues who had become deeply concerned about the lack of services for displaced families. They now operate 10 houses citywide, sheltering more than 500 people each year.

Samaritan House stands to lose eight of the homes if it does not have $500,000 by Feb. 28, 1997.

That's the date by which the Department of Housing and Urban Development will terminate the $1-a-year leases under which the local group has had possession of the government-owned houses, whose locations are kept confidential to protect clients.

As part of the general budget tightening, HUD reviewed its inventories of homes, determined it had an excess in Hampton Roads and put Samaritan House on notice that no more homes would be available when the current five-year leases expire.

``We knew we wouldn't have the same houses, but we had expected that we could pick up other HUD houses to replace them,'' said Samaritan House executive director Ellen Ferber.

Under the new policy, the federal agency's houses will go on the market. The $500,000 fund-raising goal represents the approximate cost of replacing or buying them. The current monthlong drive is the first and most important part of the campaign to meet that goal.

The loss of the leases comes at a time when reduced government funding at all levels has left public and private human service agencies scrambling. Increasingly they have become dependent on the good will of individuals and community groups to meet their needs.

While it has produced dollars, the fund-raising campaign also has bolstered the hopes of shelter organizers.

``This is the gravy time,'' Ferber said with a grin. ``The energy and the creativity is amazing.''

Part of the reason so many people have taken up Samaritan House's cause is that they have firsthand knowledge of domestic violence, homelessness or both.

Take, for example, the case of a woman whom we'll call Linda to protect her identity.

She runs a successful business and has taken a large role in helping raise funds for the shelter. Few of her business associates know the trouble she encountered growing up.

She is as tall, trim, attractive and composed as a high fashion model. But she gets a faraway look in her eyes and trembles when she thinks back to the day more than 30 years ago when she sat in the family car and watched her mother in a phone booth, 1,000 miles away from their Midwest hometown.

The two had been traveling for days, trying to find something that would give them a chance at a better and safer life - friends or family with whom they could stay, a job for her mother, a place to live.

But now, with no money left, no offers of shelter, no job forthcoming, her mother had to face reality. The only option available was to call the abusive man she had finally mustered the courage to leave and ask if he would let her come home.

Her husband, a middle manager whose job had kept them moving around the country, agreed. On one condition.

``My father told my mother that she could come home so long as she behaved herself,'' Linda said.

In so doing, he put the blame for the emotional and physical abuse where many women, even today, are made to feel that it belongs.

``Behaving herself,'' according to Linda's father's rules, meant not doing or saying anything that would trigger his anger.

Even at age 7, Linda could realize her mother's despair.

``I watched my mother in that phone booth,'' she said. ``When she put the phone down I've never seen anybody's shoulders drop so low. It seemed like they almost touched the ground. It was as if every bit of spirit had been drained from her.''

Like most women who leave abusive situations for the first time, Linda's mother returned to the abuse. It was years later before she finally had the courage and support to make the final separation.

The memories of the days the two spent on the road, the humiliation her mother faced on her return and the unhappiness of the years that followed triggered Linda's dedication to Samaritan House.

``I want women to know that when they drop a quarter into the phone, there'll be someone on the other end of the line to help them,'' she said.

Help is available, at least for the lucky ones.

All who call will get moral support and practical advice on how best to handle their situation. But only one out of 10 callers will get what they need most: a safe place to stay.

``We have to turn away nine out of 10 families who call us,'' Ferber said. Last year more than 500 people, ranging in age from newborn to 60, found shelter at Samaritan House. An additional 4,500 were turned away.

Of those fortunate enough to find space in one of the 10 homes, 64 percent were younger than 18. Some of the Samaritan House residents were fleeing from domestic violence, others had unexpectedly found themselves homeless.

Unexpected homelessness is something that Samaritan House staff see often. ``Eighty-five percent of the people we work with are just one paycheck away from being on the street,'' said Linda, the unnamed shelter fund-raising volunteer.

When the car's engine blows, when the there's an unexpected layoff, when a shared living arrangement fails, when a relationship falters or when, finally, there's not enough money in Peter's account to pay either him or Paul, then homelessness becomes a reality.

An important part of Samaritan House's job is to see that families learn to be self-sufficient, that the cycle of bad luck and bad choices is broken. For most, the road toward self-sufficiency starts on the first day of the six-week shelter stay.

``This isn't a place to relax and do nothing,'' Linda said.

The shelter offers children's groups where youngsters have a chance to work out their fears, frustration and anger through play therapy. They also come to understand that there are others who have similar feelings.

There are women's support groups, parenting and life skills classes. Some residents need to learn the basics of grocery shopping and checkbook maintenance; others how to discipline a child without breaking his spirit. Still others need to learn something even more basic: that they have value as a human being.

``We work with them to enhance skills so that they don't return to where they were,'' said staff member Christine Griffith.

The heads of family who are sheltered by Samaritan House, a few men among them, also learn job-search skills and actively seek out employment during their stays.

That kind of intervention makes a major difference in the outcome. Nationally, only 50 percent of families coming out of shelters are self sufficient one year later. For the one in 10 homeless families fortunate enough to gain entrance to Samaritan House, the rate increases to 81 percent. ILLUSTRATION: Photos

Residents of Samaritan houses attend counseling sessions, like this

seminar on such life skills as shopping, saving money and running a

household, taught by Christine Griffith.

HOW TO HELP

To help with fund raising, volunteer with shelter residents,

donate household or personal items or schedule a speaker on

Samaritan House needs and services, call 430-2642. Donations may be

sent to Samaritan House, 2697 International Parkway, Parkway Two

Building, Suite 107, Virginia Beach 23452. For help in a housing

crisis, call 430-2120.

KEYWORDS: SAMARITAN HOUSE SHELTER by CNB