Bare rooms sign of times
Donated furniture and other household goods in short supply amid downturn, says group that gives them to the needy.
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Sunday, December 07, 2008
The west Atlanta warehouse that is home to the Furniture Bank of Metro Atlanta was frigid and particularly sparse.
Still, a handful of people who had been referred to the nonprofit by other agencies picked through the meager supply of beds, chairs and tables.
Megan Anderson, executive director of the Furniture Bank, is acutely aware of how bare the warehouse is, but she’s worried that things will get even worse in the coming months.
As consumer spending has slowed and the real estate market has cooled, furniture banks that depend on donations for survival are feeling the effects of the economic downturn.
While it’s always been a challenge to keep such warehouses stocked with enough household items to meet demand, the task now seems especially daunting. And some furniture banks are beginning to see clients who have never had to count on charities before.
“We’re seeing a group of clients that are using these services for the first time,” Anderson said. “They’ve never had to ask for help. But we have to turn people away now that we didn’t before because donations are down.”
Tom Polk, the founder of the Furniture Bank of Metro Atlanta, is executive director of the National Furniture Bank Association, which is based in Atlanta. Polk said the association serves as an information clearinghouse for about 60 banks across the country. Polk said he has heard similar stories of supply shortages from other furniture banks.
During the housing boom, people bought bigger homes or remodeled their existing homes. They bought new furniture for those larger spaces and often donated their used pieces to charities. Hotels and other businesses also remodeled their spaces and donated the old items. But as the financial markets tightened, and the subprime lending market tanked, companies and households began delaying or canceling renovations. Instead, they held on to existing goods.
“I’m hearing from all over,” Polk said. “It’s a double whammy: Donations are way down, and everybody is afraid of the economy getting even worse.”
Even one of the nation’s largest furniture banks is beginning to feel the pinch. Bridging Inc., in Minneapolis, serves about 25,000 people a year. While the nonprofit hasn’t seen a significant drop in overall donations, it is beginning to see shortages in specific categories, specifically, beds and bedding.
“We’re about 20 percent less than we were at the start of the year,” said Jim Elfering, Bridging’s operations manager. “We’re not getting the donations from furniture stores like we were, for beds at least. I think a more significant drop is coming in other areas, too. It’s inevitable. People just aren’t spending as much now.”
Typically furniture is donated by home and business owners to furniture banks, which function much like food banks, Polk said. Those in need receive goods for free.
In other areas, too, there’s a subtle shift in the types of clients using the furniture banks. While furniture banks typically deal with homeless families, those fleeing domestic violence or people recovering from substance abuse, another group is appearing: the working class.
“I’m seeing plumbers, electricians, painters, people who worked in construction building all those homes,” said Carol Kane, director of Mustard Seed, a furniture and clothing bank in Orlando. “They lived in apartments. But now they can’t afford the rent because there’s no work, so they’re in shelters. Sometimes they try to sell whatever furniture they had to get some little bit of cash. By the time they get to us, they have nothing.”
And furniture banks such as Mustard Seed are one of the first stops people make once they are ready to move out of a shelter and into permanent housing, Kane said.
In Atlanta, it’s not necessarily homeowners who have lost their houses to foreclosure showing up, but mostly the renters of houses forced into foreclosure, Anderson said.
“Oftentimes, they aren’t told [about the foreclosure] until law enforcement knocks on the door and tells them,” Anderson said. “They lose security deposits, this month’s rent, then they don’t have money for a storage unit, so they lose their things.”
Anderson’s service works with about 3,000 people a year who are referred by other agencies that help the poor, such as churches and shelters. But with an annual operating budget of $500,000, Anderson is worried that might not be enough if the downturn worsens.
“The economy is as bad as it’s ever been,” Anderson said.
For information about how to donate to the furniture bank, go to furniturebankatl.org.



DEL.ICIO.US