People who attended the fairs had the chance to participate in the Point-in-Time count — and also could grab a hot meal, collect gear such as warm clothing, ponchos, tents and sleeping bags and connect with other agencies that could offer vital services. Community Connection emphasized getting the word out about the fairs, and most of the counties reported increased attendance this year.

But regardless of where the count took place — in a community meeting hall or an emergency shelter or a rainy street corner — the key question was the same: Where did you sleep on the night of Wednesday, Jan. 24, 2024?

About the count

The Point-in-Time count is overseen by local continuums of care, local planning bodies that are responsible for coordinating the full range of homelessness services in a geographic area, which might cover a city, county, metropolitan area or an entire state.

Oregon has eight continuum of care organizations. Northeast Oregon — and some 70% of the total geographic area of the state — is part of the Rural Oregon Continuum of Care. Brooke Matthews, the program manager for the Rural Oregon Continuum of Care, works with 26 rural Oregon counties, and said those counties all take different approaches to the count.

The count is meant to be a snapshot of people who are homeless — both sheltered and unsheltered — on one night across the country. If you’re staying overnight in a shelter for the homeless, you can be counted. If you’re living in your vehicle — or, for that matter, any structure deemed unfit for human habitation under federal guidelines — you can be counted.

If you’re couch-surfing — someone without a house who’s sleeping on a friend or relative’s couch — you’re not included as part of the count.

And, of course, if you can’t be found by counters — or don’t hear about a resource fair in your county — you’re not included in the count.

Which is part of the reason why experts on homelessness say the Point-in-Time count is almost certainly an underestimate, particularly in rural areas. And Matthews said no one is sure to what extent the count underestimates the extent of rural homelessness.

“That’s not a number we could even begin to guess,” she said, “because our geography is just so vast. … In rural Oregon, we can’t even begin to imagine what that looks like.”

Umatilla County

Even as the count seeks to determine the number of homeless people on one specific night — Jan. 24 — agencies in rural areas have more than just that night to tackle the survey.

This flexibility let a counting crew from Umatilla County conduct the survey on Thursday, Jan. 25. (But the key question counters asked participants was where they had slept the night before.)

The crew found Boede and a few other people to survey at the Hermiston Public Library on Jan. 25. The group was leaving to eat a free lunch next door at the Hermiston First United Methodist Church, and most, like Boede, completed the survey while eating.

“I can’t stay sober in Pendleton,” she said. She historically has struggled with substance use and relapsed after she and her husband, who also had been sober, were both laid off from a business in Pendleton.

The two left town, separately, and Boede only returned when she found herself stranded in Kansas. Her husband has since died; she couldn’t have a funeral for him and cried as she recalled the experience.

“I try to do the right thing when I’m here,” she said of Hermiston, where she has found a community of other unhoused people who support her effort to stay sober.

Knowing people by name

Earlier that day, the Point-in-Time Count survey team searched areas that are normally popular resting points for unhoused people. In a white CAPECO pickup, Amanda Jeppeson, the organization’s street outreach coordinator, drove with a truck full of supplies and hard-won empathy.

“I have been homeless, I have been addicted,” she said.

Jeppeson and the other volunteers in Hermiston know many of the unhoused people around Hermiston by name, or at least where they hang out.

On a property outside of Hermiston, a dilapidated trailer sat next to a tall pile of tires and a fifth wheel connected to an old, maroon pickup. There, a counting team found Bob, a 61-year-old man with a scruffy white beard taking care of two dogs and a cat. Bob asked to be identified by his first name only, since he is not supposed to be living where he is.

Bob said he has arthritis, but has been told by authorities that he needs to move. He’s trying to clean up the trash and debris surrounding his trailer, which doesn’t have water, sewer or electricity, and has two broken windows.

“I’m tired of being out here,” he said. “They want me to get out and go to the warming center. It’s appreciated, trust me, but I can’t do that.”

He’s worried about how the dogs will interact with other animals at the shelter, and he refuses to leave his pets. Bob said that even though he doesn’t want to go to a shelter, he does appreciate that more services are becoming available for unhoused people.

“There’s people every day going homeless and they need help,” he said, even though he has been homeless — this time — for about four years. “They seem to be starting to help people that are homeless.”

The group of volunteers gave him food for lunch, a blanket, a care kit and a few bags of dog food before he’d even started the survey.

On Jan. 24 — the day before counters in Umatilla County encountered Bob — resource fairs in Baker, Grant, Union and Wallowa counties offered a centralized approach to the count, with the same additional goals of providing services and supplies to attendees.

The resource fairs don’t require as much knowledge about the locations where unhoused people frequent. However, they provide other challenges: Some unsheltered people don’t have the transportation required to get to the fairs or simply didn’t know about them.