On the night of Jan.11, the temperature in the Comox Valley plummeted with windchill reaching up to -18 C. The Vancouver Island region has a severe shortage of shelter options, leaving well above 150 unhoused individuals without a place to stay indoors overnight. Black Press Media reporter Olivier Laurin spent the night outside in an attempt to portray their reality.
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8:33 p.m. - Environment Canada issued a severe weather warning.
The notice read: ѻýAn arctic front will bring cold air to the region. The combination of cold arctic air and northerly winds of 20 km/h will generate wind chill values near -20 C. Frostbite and hypothermia can occur within minutes. Anyone who is not dressed warmly is at risk.ѻý
Black Press Media arrived at Courtenayѻýs Connect Warming Centre shortly after 9 p.m. Taija McLuckie, a peer advisor and local advocate for the unhoused, was visibly distraught as she spoke with friends, trying to keep herself warm.
ѻýWe heard that someone was overdosing, so we ran over with naloxoneѻý to see if we could assist. When we arrived, he was dead, with no pulse, totally blue, and not breathing,ѻý said McLuckie. ѻýThe (EMTs) ended up giving him four shots of Narcan. It took about five minutes to get some gurgling from him. We walked him back (to the Connect Centre) and asked him to stay. We gave him some water and within 20 minutes he was gone.ѻý
Unaware of the young manѻýs whereabouts, McLuckie dreaded the worst.
ѻýI donѻýt know if heѻýll make it through the night. If heѻýs alone and if he has the same batch (of dirty) dope with him and heѻýs alone, he wonѻýt live. Itѻýs f**king sh***y because he is a nice kid. Heѻýs in his mid-20s, maybe early 30s, but I know heѻýs pretty young.ѻý
9:03 p.m. - Inside the Connect Warming Centre
Entering the Connect Centre, one is welcomed by a humid haze dominated by a mixed scent: urine, grime and unwashed clothes.
Teeming with life, the place was overcrowded. Sitting in a small lounge chair, a tenant explained that the facility, typically accommodating just over 30 people, was now stretched to double its capacity due to the extreme weather.
Despite these conditions, most tenants simply considered themselves fortunate to be indoors.
In this organized chaos, the overall morale remained high. Some were eating plates full of rice and veggies, while others sought warmth by clasping disposable cups filled with steaming hot coffee.
Through all this, staff and volunteering tenants managed to clean the floors and bring out mattresses, transforming the place into a dormitory.
As others readied themselves for bedtime, Jack lingered in the Connect Centre, absorbing every bit of warmth before venturing out into the night.

ѻýThere are only so many rooms in here so thereѻýs gonna be a lot of people out there. (Itѻýs so cold that even) the blankets are freezing,ѻý he said.
According to the man, this sheltering crisis could be easily remediated.
ѻýThere are solutions to these problems and easy ones. The bylaw officers come in and (we need to tear down our camp) at 8 a.m.,ѻý Jack added. ѻýEvery week, there have been meetings at the library for over a year. Itѻýs all talk, talk, talk but thereѻýs no solution. Iѻýve talked to cops, Iѻýve talked to bylaw officers, Iѻýve talked to a priest, Iѻýve talked to nurses, Iѻýve talked to doctors, and nobody is hearing. No one is actually (willing to) hear and see whatѻýs going on. Itѻýs a form of abuse.
ѻý(Those in power) are putting more problems on top of problems rather than solving them. Peopleѻýs lives are being jeopardized.ѻý
As Jack left the room, a large beige dog entered, sniffing everything in its path with a cautious curiosity.
ѻýHer name is Harley,ѻý said Joanne, as she knelt behind the dog. ѻýI donѻýt own a dog myself, but I take care of (my friendѻýs) dog. Itѻýs too cold for them to be out. There are some other dogs out there living in these conditions, and itѻýs tough to watch.ѻý

Despite the harsh reality, Joanne expressed gratitude for the Connect Centre providing shelter for her and Harley.
After spending the past year in the street, the woman explained her journey has been marked by challenges. Despite successfully overcoming her heroin addiction six years ago, the ongoing battle with substance use lingers on.
ѻýBefore I had a house and I had everything really. There are many reasons why Iѻým here right now. One of them is relapsing and I was also in denial for a while, blaming everybody for what happened. I lost my kid two years ago and things went downhill from there, but s**t happens. I need to take responsibility for that, pick myself up, and start again.ѻý
Standing beside her, Jessica also expressed gratitude for the chance to spend the night indoors with her partner Bob.
ѻýMy experience at (Connect) is that the staff here is good. Like tonight, theyѻýll let so many people come in because they actually care so much to help us. This isnѻýt just a job for them. I feel like they want to be here and help us.ѻý

Yet, Jessica couldnѻýt shake the looming concern for those enduring a night like this outside. According to her, this lack of sheltering options, causing many to stay outdoors, is a ѻýdeath sentence.ѻý The issue is all too real for her, having lost two close friends to the cold in recent years.
10:21 p.m. - Heading out
As Jody and Sheldon are heading out to the emergency warming centre located at Courtenayѻýs Native Sons Hall, they bring along with them garbage bags filled with blankets for those spending the night outside.
On their way, the couple weaved through the alleys of Courtenayѻýs downtown area, to ensure that those who remained out there could make it through the night.

As they slowly walk with the bag of blankets slung over their shoulders, the two share thoughts about the current situation.
ѻýA couple of weeks ago, it was pissing rain (and a couple of us) were trying to stay warm and dry. We had propane and (tarps set up) for everybody coming by because if you canѻýt make it (inside Connect), there is nowhere to go,ѻý said Sheldon.
ѻýThe next morning, the bylaw came by (and threw) all our stuff away, which I didnѻýt get because (Connect) provides us with tents and then all of a sudden theyѻýre (thrown) in the landfill and then weѻýre being given more tents. Itѻýs just a stupid cycle.ѻý
ѻý(The bylaw officers) just threw everything out. We had our clothes in there and everything. They just donѻýt give a ***k,ѻý added Jody.
Sheldon criticized this logic adopted by local authorities, to justify such enforcement.
ѻýDo these guys really think that we want to be addicted to these substances? I donѻýt want to be an alcoholic. One bylaw officer told me to get a job, but you canѻýt get a job without a place and you canѻýt get a place without having a job. Weѻýre just treading water.ѻý
A little before 11 p.m., the duo made their way to the warming centre and delivered their much-awaited goods.
Welcomed by outreach workers, the two sat down at a table and enjoyed a cup of coffee, a hot dog and sweets, offered by the house. Staff at the warming centre refused to let Black Press Media document the situation inside the facility.
3:32 a.m. - Johnѻýs singing
Transformed from a bustling hub several hours ago, the downtown area now seems devoid of signs of life.
Yet, through the howling wind, one could hear a faint humming sound, reminiscent of an old Western movie.
At the intersection of 4th Street and Cliffe Avenue, a man wrapped in two blankets was leaning over a garbage bin. Standing alone, with a curbed metal cane resting on his crossed arms, John was singing his favourite Boz Scaggs song: What Can I Say.
ѻýHeѻýs just a regular guy with a sports coat and he was really good-looking. He had the world by the tail and he sang about life and love. Thatѻýs what I like about him,ѻý said John when asked about his choice of song.

At 72 years old, John, who has had three open-heart surgeries, crowned himself the oldest unhoused man in the Valley. An entertainer by trade, showcasing unwavering optimism, he explained that life in the streets is not a piece of cake.
ѻýBecause of my heart condition and my health, I canѻýt walk properly. Iѻým also on heavy-duty meds which are hard to manage. I need to keep the water off my heart because so I have to go to the washroom every 10 minutes,ѻý said John. ѻýI slept out in the cold the night before and it was terrible. We are getting moved everywhere and thereѻýs no place to go. You canѻýt even settle in a tent or a sleeping bag, so I just put on layers and layers.ѻý
Despite that, John has a nuanced understanding of the ongoing homeless crisis and recognizes that local law enforcement officers are dealing with a thorny situation.
ѻýThey donѻýt know what to do. They really donѻýt. No oneѻýs moving above them. I am not a genius but I think that to soothe the public, (the authorities) just want to bring the homeless almost to the edge but not go through with it,ѻý said John. ѻýBut weѻýre in desperate need to stop people from dying. Iѻýve seen so many people die right in front of me.ѻý
3:43 a.m. - Mikeѻýs story
Mike was riding his bicycle down Cliffe Avenue street when he met with Black Press Media. Following a short conversation, the man invited the reporter to the place where he nearly died on Dec. 29, 2020.
Located on the bicycle path behind Courtenay City Hall, Mike stood where things could have ended.
ѻýIt snowed all day and we had a fire going to keep us warm. I was dope sick and it was weird because I remember looking at my hand change from white to purple. I got my friend to help me down the stairs because I wanted to go pee,ѻý said Mike. ѻýI fell on my back in the snow. I was so cold that I went in and out of consciousness. I was ready to let go. I felt really good. I was ready to die.
ѻýThe last memory I have is someone jumping over me with a knife, cutting off my clothes, and wrapping me up. The next thing I can remember is waking up at the hospital, naked, and covered in a warming blanket. When I looked at my hands, they were all messed up. I started bawling. To this day, I still donѻýt know who saved me.ѻý

Struggling with bipolar disorder and battling with persistent substance use issues, the emaciated man said that these factors significantly complicate the transition from the streets to a more conventional life.
ѻýIf I had a room and a locked door so I could sleep in peace, my life would be much better. I donѻýt even need a bed, just a place to stay. Iѻým on disability and I would literally give a half of my check away to rent a room.ѻý
A few minutes after sharing his story, Mike headed back to the Tim Hortonѻýs on Cliffe. He wanted to help his friend move his belongings back to the city centre, allowing them both to enjoy a bit of warmth before the warming centre closed its doors at 7 a.m.
6:26 a.m. - Markѻýs night out
Nestled beside a garbage bin behind the Tim Hortonѻýs, Mark was breaking down his camp. Among what many would consider a mess were all of his lifeѻýs possessions: a guitar, a cheap tent, a propane tank, a burner, a cart filled with stuff, a seatless bicycle to drag everything.
Burdened by all his gear, Mark spent the night outside because he couldnѻýt make it to the Connect Centre in time. Fearing leaving his belongings at the mercy of thieves and vandals, he couldnѻýt bring himself to abandon everything.
ѻýMy night was long and chilly,ѻý he said. ѻýIt was a little bit stressful too because I donѻýt know where is my girlfriend now. Maybe sheѻýs at the shelter or maybe she stayed outside. The last time I saw her we were by the 7-Eleven.ѻý
Warming up inside the Tim Hortonѻýs, with a coffee in hand offered by a bystander, Mark described the many challenges he faces on the street daily. From quarreling with bylaw officers to constantly moving around, the man shared the same sentiment as many others.
ѻýHousing is the big thing. I canѻýt establish anything. Iѻýve been wearing the same clothes now for over a week and everything is wet from the weather. All my stuff started to mould. Iѻým losing my clothes all the time,ѻý said Mark. ѻýI have nothing else than what I have. Being kicked out by bylaws does not give you time for your clothes to dry. I donѻýt follow politics, but if they can make a difference, Iѻýd say we need more low-income housing.ѻý

7:06 - Closure of the warming centre
Overnight, the warming centre consistently hosted anywhere from 15 to 30 people. By 7 a.m., all tenants were locked out of the facility, facing the coldest temperature of the night to date.
Among the few sticking around is Alan, a tall man in flannel joggers, wrapped in a large blanket.
ѻýI managed to get a few hours of sleep. The place was safe, comfortable, and welcoming. We had food and pyjama bottoms.ѻý
Forced out in the street again, describing the situation as ѻýcruel,ѻý Alan gathered his thoughts as he prepared for the day.
ѻýNow my plan is to get my stuff off the property so we can come here again tonight.ѻý