Last Friday marked one year that Lisa Luz, 54, had been without housing in Concord.

She stood among the roughly 60 people huddled close on the downtown sidewalk at a vigil honoring the 54 people, including 14 from Concord, who died in New Hampshire this year while experiencing homelessness or having recently been without housing.

Luz didn’t only come to the vigil to honor those lost. She came as a reminder of hope: to others like her experiencing homelessness, to those with the power to do more to solve the crisis, and to herself.

“I’m here to show that there are survivors,” she said. “One of these days, I am going to reach the top of the mountain and say ‘I made it.’ I deserve a chance. We all deserve a chance.”

Luz knows the assumptions that people make about her when she enters a restaurant with her backpack. It was only after she lost housing that she fell into substance use, and she worked hard to pull herself into sobriety. She encouraged her peers, even in the cold, in the darkness, to join her at the vigil.

“We have to show that we care about each other,” she said.

Like each person in attendance, Luz held a candle with one of the 54 names written on the side. Last year, 94 candles were held by the crowd. As each name was read aloud, their candle was placed on a table at the center and notes from friends, family and those who had supported them were shared.

The names

Bonnie Cote was “a hell-raising, god-fearing, Blackberry-Steel-Reserve-loving, bull-stubborn spitfire of a woman,” said Connor Spern, a former outreach services coordinator at the Concord Coalition to End Homelessness who now oversees the state’s End Veteran Homelessness Program. Cote’s 15 years without stable housing wore her down both physically, as she came to rely on a walker, and emotionally, Spern said. In the last three years she had lost her son, ex-husband, brother and most recent partner to substance use disorders. It meant that she died alone, and the Coalition, where she had picked lilacs for the staff, read bible passages and showed off her wit with stories of her adventures, still has her cremated remains.

Randall Jacques, 63, was a gifted painter — even on his walls, in his shower. “He was my absolute favorite thorn in my side,” said Sierra Hubbard, a supportive housing program manager at the Coalition. He could be secretive, she added, earning him the nickname of Sam — “Secret Agent Man” — but was very close with his two adult sons and ex-wife.

Tim Hoyt, if “rough around the edges” and unfiltered, was known for his gentle heart and his detailed, introspective journals, Hubbard said. When, at 67, he died after being hit by a car while crossing the road, he was just weeks away from becoming housed.

Others were remembered for how much they loved a good clementine, playing the harmonica or their mother. The youngest among them was James Wingfield, who was just 18 years old; Nadiyah N, who died in November, was the oldest at 88.

Rising numbers

Homelessness rose by 52 % in New Hampshire from 2022 to 2023, faster than in any other state, according to the 2023 Annual Homelessness Assessment Report from the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development. Preliminary counts also flag a stark 71% increase in the number of people who were unsheltered in the state since 2023, according to a 2024 report from the New Hampshire Coalition to End Homelessness.

These figures come from a federal point-in-time count, which attempts to identify the number of people experiencing homelessness in a community on a single night in January. Advocates note that they can be artificially low and underrepresent a community’s true needs.

More than 300 people are currently experiencing homelessness in the city, according to figures presented to the city’s steering committee to end homelessness. The Community Action Program plans to do its own point-in-time count in January.

As the rate of homelessness has risen, advocates with the coalition, the county Community Action Program and others, including a social worker hired by the police department this year, have worked to connect people with housing.

Luz is grateful for that work and all the support she receives. But she doesn’t understand why Concord — and the resources that come with being the state capital — hasn’t made more progress on the issue.

“There’s so many people that help us, and thank god for them,” she said. “But there’s one homeless shelter in Concord. One.”

‘Love yourself’

As names were read and a bell rang out softly into the crowd, Larry Regan reached into his pocket for his pack of tissues, offering one to the young woman on his left.

“I’m actually one of the lucky ones,” he said. “I made it out.”

Regan understands how grief can weigh on a person. When his wife Stephanie passed away, “Everything just slowly slipped away,” he said. He learned three years’ worth of hard lessons living outside in Concord, he said, before getting an apartment earlier this year through the coalition.

He read a poem at the outset of the vigil. He chose the piece by Donna Ashworth because, he said, he felt its words would bring strength to others, as they had to him.

“‘Remember how they loved you,’” he recited. “‘In their honor, love yourself, as they loved you.’”

Catherine McLaughlin can be reached at cmclaughlin@cmonitor.com. You can follow her on X @cat_mclaugh and subscribe to her newsletter The City Beat at concordmonitor.com.