The face of homelessness in Memphis has changed, and so has the response.
Memphis City Councilwoman Rhonda Logan remembers entering public office with a limited understanding of homelessness. "We would often see people maybe dealing with substance abuse or mental illness... you know, in the streets," she said. "That was basically my view." But during the COVID-19 pandemic and in the years that followed, she began to see a broader, more personal side of the issue. "Professional people… having a difficult time post-COVID. A lot of people were losing their homes, their jobs. And I just really started seeing a different face."
On this week's episode of WKNO's Behind the Headlines, Logan joined host Eric Barnes, Hospitality Hub of Memphis Executive Director Kelcey Johnson, and Daily Memphian reporter Bill Dries to discuss how the city is rethinking homelessness—especially through the development of transitional living facilities like the planned Hub North.
The Hospitality Hub already operates a comprehensive campus downtown at 590 Washington Ave. There, Memphians experiencing homelessness can receive everything from housing assistance and mental health services to haircuts, meals, and help acquiring birth certificates and state IDs. The facility also houses 1,750 active mailboxes, which are crucial lifelines for people without a permanent address.
Yet even with those services, the need continues to grow. In 2024 alone, the Hub conducted intake interviews for 5,200 individuals experiencing homelessness for the first time. And in Memphis-Shelby County Schools, 2,690 children identified themselves as homeless.
"These are kids going to school every day," said Johnson, adding that one girl, an honor student at White Station High School who also worked at Subway, was found sleeping behind the restaurant near the dumpster. "We were able to reach out to her and assist her... Delta Sigma Theta sorority paid for her prom and her dress and her hair and nails," Johnson said. The Hospitality Hub eventually helped mediate housing with an aunt until the student left for college on scholarship.
Johnson added that situations like this are more common than many realize. "It would be great if that was a strange, outlandish story, but it's not."
This growing awareness of the many faces of homelessness—including working families, youth, and people living with mental illness—led Logan and Johnson to push for a second campus. The result: Hub North, a new transitional village located on the site of the former Manassas High School near the old Firestone factory.
Unlike congregate shelters, Hub North will provide private cottages for families with thoughtful touches like separate bedrooms and wraparound services. Johnson emphasized the importance of trauma-informed design: "So many people were adamant that if it's a mom with children, we want her to have a bedroom door."
Originally, Hub North was slated to be built in the Scenic Hills area of Frayser. But after community pushback, the team regrouped. "The neighborhood was just not ready for it," said Logan. "They did not want it in that area. They felt that it was an unstable situation for their community." Rather than force the project through, Logan worked with other council members and local clergy to identify a new location where neighbors would be supportive.
Pastor King of Grace Missionary Baptist Church played a key role in helping introduce the project to the surrounding neighborhood. "He got other pastors... to attend the meetings," said Johnson. "He didn't try to push this idea down anybody's throat. What he got people to do was listen to our story."
That openness led to collaborative design sessions in which residents and faith leaders had direct input on the campus' layout, aesthetics, and function. Now under construction, Hub North is backed by $9 million in funding from the City of Memphis, Congressman Steve Cohen, Mayor Paul Young, local foundations, and individual donors—many connected to churches throughout the city.
Importantly, the model is not one of charity alone. It's a strategic alternative to the costly and ineffective cycles of emergency room visits, jail time, and encampment sweeps. "Jailing a person, one person, is $46,000 a year," said Johnson. "It's just so much less expensive" to invest in housing and supportive services.
In fact, Memphis' approach diverges from many other major cities that have seen sprawling encampments dominate public spaces. "We talked about this seven or eight years ago," said Johnson. "Are we a city that's going to support people in encampments, or are we a city that's going to break up the encampments with compassion? And we decided on number two."
Today, encampments in Memphis are typically limited to one or two tents—far from the hundreds seen in places like Seattle or Los Angeles. Outreach workers from the Hub offer more than food and temporary relief. "We're going to come and talk to each individual… and say, 'Hey, don't you want to go somewhere else?'" said Johnson.
Both Logan and Johnson believe that Hub North should be a starting point, not the finish line. With eviction rates three times higher than the rest of the city, Southeast Memphis is among the areas most in need of a similar campus. "Having one in each district—or at this point in each region: north, south, east, and west—I think [would] be very beneficial," said Logan.
For now, the success of Hub North may determine how—and how fast—other parts of the city can follow.
