Opened 40 years ago this week, Federal City Shelter remains essential

This week marks a key anniversary in the history of the city, one that warrants less celebration than it does pause for reflection. On January 15, 1984–Martin Luther King’s birthday–Federal City Shelter opened its doors at 2nd and D Streets NW.

An unprecedented partnership between the federal government, the city, and the Community for Creative Non-Violence, the shelter was originally envisioned as a short-term answer for the swelling ranks of people sleeping on the streets of the nation’s capital. Forty years later, homelessness has become a permanent feature of US cities, and ‘2nd and D’ remains an essential part of the District’s social service landscape. With the Bowser administration proposing wide-ranging cuts to housing and homeless services to address projected budget shortfalls, this situation is unlikely to change any time soon.

The homelessness casually taken for granted today was uncommon as recently as the 1970s. Over the course of that decade, the number of unhoused people in the United States rose steadily, only to increase exponentially in the 1980s. Many were quick to cite deinstitutionalization or a generation of traumatized veterans as the crisis’ chief drivers, but the causes of homelessness were more complex. Racialized urban disinvestment, the loss of deeply affordable housing, and a dramatic spike in unemployment stemming from efforts to tame inflation all contributed to homelessness. Reagan’s embrace of austerity, slashing funds for subsidized housing, exacerbated the problem.

Amidst this building emergency, the Community for Creative Non-Violence (CCNV) emerged as a fierce ally of the city’s marginalized, pairing social service programs with bold and shocking acts of protest. Led by the mercurial Mitch Snyder, the group held public funerals for those who died from exposure and engaged in Gandhian-inspired fasts aimed at winning concessions. CCNV’s efforts forced elected officials, the media, and faith communities to acknowledge the scale of the crisis. They also helped to forge a national network of homelessness advocates.

While pressuring the city to do more, CCNV realized that any lasting solution to homelessness required federal intervention. After the group demanded Reagan declare a national emergency, the White House quietly ordered federal agencies to make surplus buildings available for use as shelters in 1983. Aware that this wasn’t enough, CCNV, at the same time, saw a chance to set an important precedent. Receiving unexpected support from well-placed individuals within the Reagan administration, a deal was reached to open a temporary shelter at the former site of Federal City College. The hulking structure, built during the New Deal, was in poor condition. It was centrally located, though, and could house hundreds. Federal City Shelter opened on January 15, 1984, with a well-attended celebration. Within weeks it was the closest thing to home for over 900 people.

When spring came, most of the people living there did not want to leave. Nor did CCNV want to make them, leading to a multi-year battle to keep the shelter open and transform it into a model facility. While the story has too many twists and turns to recount here–for that see Ginny Durin’s Oscar-nominated film Promises to Keep – Snyder’s persistence ultimately overcame the Reagan administration’s reluctance to fund the renovations. The remodeled shelter was dedicated in September 1988. With nearly 1400 beds, it was the largest homeless shelter in the nation.

Only half a mile from the Capitol, CCNV hoped that the shelter would be a powerful symbol, one that could spark a movement to end homelessness once and for all. CCNV and its allies helped secure the 1987 passage of the McKinney Act, which provided federal funding for emergency food and shelter programs. Building on this success, advocates went on to form the Housing Now! Coalition. Their efforts to restore Housing and Urban Development (HUD) funding for new subsidized housing, though, gained little traction. In the 1990s, cities, including DC, sharply reduced their support for the homeless. Amidst these political reversals, and with personal troubles mounting, Snyder took his own life.

Since that fateful day, Federal City Shelter has served less as a symbol of the movement to end homelessness than one of survival against great odds. Run by an all-volunteer group of resident leaders, the shelter operates on a shoestring budget, getting by year to year through a mix of programmatic grants and private donations. The city pays for the site’s utilities and occasionally injects cash for repairs.

Over the years, scandals have led to calls for the shelter’s closure. In 2014 a task force was assembled to consider its future, including proposals to sell the property and build supportive housing on an adjacent site. Residents, understandably, have greeted such plans with unease. More than any other reason, the shelter remains open today because the unique arrangement under which it is run saves the city millions per year in operating costs.

At its highest reported level nationally, homelessness is also on the rise in the District. With the winding down of pandemic-related federal aid more people are at risk of ending up on the street. Given that DC’s FY2024 budget includes less than a fifth of the permanent supportive housing vouchers called for by the city’s own strategic plan, this will almost certainly be the case.

While important steps have been taken over the past forty years, ending homelessness will ultimately require a renewed national commitment to the creation of deeply affordable housing. Cities can play a vital role in this process, including piloting alternatives such as social housing. Until that time, places like 2nd and D remain a critical refuge for those with nowhere else to turn.