Sunday, Sep. 27, 2026

How Monroe County Is Responding

What Neighbors Are Saying

We checked Nextdoor and the Facebook groups where Monroe County actually argues with itself, especially Locals of Stroudsburg, PA and Surrounding Areas and Pocono Politics. Two threads keep surfacing.

The loudest is disgust at the mess. A photo of trash near the cemetery, the same PennDOT-land site mentioned above, pulled 149 reactions and nearly 300 comments this month, most some version of “stop being pigs” and worry about it washing into the creek.

The quieter thread is people actually helping: Street2Feet posting that it's reopened for the season, and local groups running fundraisers. It gets a fraction of the engagement the trash photo did, which says more about the algorithm than about the community.

What Local Government Is Doing

Monroe County's commissioners approved 2026-2027 Homeless Assistance Program funding this year (Resolution M-2026-192), splitting $57,388 across five line items:

$12,736: Pocono Area Transitional Housing, bridge housing

$12,736: The Salvation Army, emergency shelter

$12,736: Family Promise of the Poconos, emergency shelter

$12,736: Safe Monroe, emergency shelter

$6,444: Resources for Human Development, case management (Street2Feet)

(Monroe County Board of Commissioners, July 1, 2026 meeting minutes, Motion M-2026-192)

That last line is the one worth noticing: it's the money keeping Street2Feet's case managers on the clock, the same program reporting a doubling in demand this year. $6,444 doesn't go far against 275-plus new clients.

The county is also already running a homegrown addiction-response program, an important note given the obvious connections between addiction and homelessness. Since February 2023, the DA's office has partnered with Carbon-Monroe-Pike Drug & Alcohol Commission and Pyramid Healthcare on a co-response team: a detective and a certified peer recovery specialist who respond together to every opioid overdose call in the county, then follow up to get people into treatment. “We are acting [against] the war on drugs by diminishing the demand,” said Det. Kim Lippincott, who runs the program. “Why are these people committing crimes? It's because of their drug addiction.” Peer specialist Stan Lewandowski, nine years into his own recovery, works the calls directly: “It defuses the situation when I can tell them, 'Look, I've been where you're at.'” The team supported more than 65 people in its first year. (WNEP, March 15, 2024) Monroe also joined the state's separate Law Enforcement Treatment Initiative in 2023, which lets police redirect low-level drug offenders to treatment instead of arrest. (Monroe County DA's office)

Where the Churches Come In

When the county's money runs thin, local churches fill a lot of the gap, and one stands out. Since about 2013, Stroudsburg Wesleyan Church on North Fifth Street has run the Wesleyan Inn, the area's cold-weather shelter: open 7 p.m. to 6 a.m., seven nights a week, Nov. 1 through March 31, with room for up to 40 guests a night after a renovation added real beds and showers where guests once slept on mats in the gym. Guests get a hot meal, a shower, and laundry, and manager Peter Mankin's policy is short: “We will not turn anyone away, everyone is welcome.” It runs largely on volunteers, and it opens again in about five weeks. (Stroudsburg Wesleyan Church; The Wesleyan Church, “Room for more”; WFMZ)

“We will not turn anyone away, everyone is welcome.”

Peter Mankin, Wesleyan Inn

Down the road, Stroudsburg United Methodist Church on Main Street runs a Sunday soup kitchen and supports Family Promise, one of the county-funded shelters above. (Stroudsburg UMC)

Pennsylvania and Beyond: Lessons for Monroe County

Rural homelessness is outpacing urban homelessness in other places, not just here. For example, one recent analysis of Indiana's numbers found rural homelessness grew 16.6% from 2023 to 2025, versus 9.4% in cities, a gap researchers tie to rising rents, property tax pressure on longtime owners, and small towns having no fund to cover the one bad month, a lost job, an unpaid utility bill, that turns into an eviction. (Indiana Public Media, “Rural homelessness growing faster than cities,” Jan. 20, 2026)

Two counties prove it's not hopeless. Fremont County, Colorado, population 48,000 and about as rural as it gets, was certified in 2021 as having functionally ended veteran homelessness. Seven local partners, from the county's human services department to a food ministry, worked off one shared list of every homeless veteran by name.(Community Solutions, “Fremont, Colorado Reaches Functional Zero for Veteran Homelessness”)

Chester County, Pennsylvania, our own state, hit functional zero for chronic homelessness in December and January, though the number has since ticked back up. Shelter use there is down 52% since 2021, and its Point-in-Time count dropped from 313 to 219, the second-lowest in a decade. (WHYY, “Chester County reaches 'functional zero milestone' for chronic homelessness”)

Neither county outspent the problem. They out-organized it: one list, one set of names, everyone working off the same page instead of five agencies running five separate counts.

The Kicker

This problem isn't going away anytime soon. Facebook and other forums fan the flames of outrage; but they offer little in the way of actual solutions. Perhaps if we spent less energy demonizing the homeless, and instead look for practical solutions, we could all win.

Sources for Stories 1 to 3

Homeless outreach shelter sees uptick in need, PA Homepage/WBRE-WYOU

County approves temporary homeless encampment location, 28/22 News (Nov. 14, 2024)

Homelessness in PA, PA Department of Community & Economic Development

Monroe County Board of Commissioners meeting minutes, July 1, 2026 (Motion M-2026-192)

Monroe County tries new approach to deal with addiction: co-response, WNEP (March 15, 2024)

Monroe County Law Enforcement Treatment Initiative (LETI), Monroe County DA's Office

Cold Weather Homeless Shelter, Stroudsburg Wesleyan Church

Missions, Stroudsburg United Methodist Church

Rural homelessness growing faster than cities, Indiana Public Media

Fremont County, CO: Functional Zero, Community Solutions

Chester County reaches 'functional zero milestone' for chronic homelessness, WHYY

Change the Man, Change the World

By George Martin

A personal story of addiction, homelessness, resiliency and recovery, by George Martin. George wrote this for Monroe Unfiltered in his own words. It appears here in full, as written.

“If you can change the man, then you can change the world.” — Brandon Novak

There are certain words we hear at exactly the right moment in our lives.

For me, those words came from Brandon Novak. I heard them while watching the documentary Tomorrow Is Going To Be Better, and they eventually became one of the defining ideas of my recovery.

But to explain why that quote meant so much to me, I first have to explain the man I used to be.

Where It Started

I began drinking regularly around the age of 15. At the time, it did not seem unusual. I was a teenager growing up in the late 1990s and early 2000s. My parents worked nights, and I spent a lot of time home alone. Drinking became something I did on and off throughout my teenage years with friends while going out in the middle of the night to go to parties or to just hang out. I always made it home in time for school the next day, though.

At 19, I moved out. From 19 until about 22, the partying continued. At the time, I looked at it as normal young-adult behavior. I was having fun. I certainly did not consider myself an alcoholic.

Looking back, however, I can see signs that I completely ignored.

Around 23, I remember waking up after a night of heavy drinking. When I stood up, my leg began trembling. I laughed about it at the time. I remember thinking, What the hell was that?

Today, I recognize it for what it likely was: my body reacting to alcohol withdrawal. What seemed like a funny moment at the time was actually a warning. I simply was not ready to listen.

When Life Began to Collapse

By 23, I was homeless.

A relationship had ended, and I found myself sleeping on the floor of my mother's home in a trailer park in Bartonsville, Pennsylvania. Eventually, my mother and stepfather told me they were moving somewhere I could not go with them.

Whether that was completely true or whether they simply no longer knew how to deal with my drinking, I may never know. Looking back now, I understand either possibility.

That was when things truly began spiraling.

I started asking friends for places to stay. A couch, a floor, a corner of a room—it did not matter. I just wanted a roof over my head.

Eventually, I stayed with someone in the Mount Pocono area. I slept on a worn-out air mattress in the corner of a dirty, bug-infested basement. Only after staying there did I fully understand the environment I had entered. Illegal drugs were being produced and sold around me.

That was never a world I wanted to be part of. But addiction changes your standards.

When you are drinking heavily and wondering where you are going to sleep, things you once said you would never tolerate suddenly become things you accept simply because they allow you to survive another night.

From roughly 23 until 28, I bounced from place to place. Different houses. Different couches. Different floors. I would spend my days trying to work to make money to pay bills and drink. That was the cycle.

But many of the situations—and many of the problems—were the same.

What Addiction Cost Me

At 28, I met a woman who genuinely showed interest in me. Honestly, I was surprised.

By that point, my drinking had become severe, and I could not understand why someone would want to build a relationship with me. We met through a friend at a small gathering, exchanged numbers, and eventually began dating.

That relationship lasted several years, on and off. She saw some of the worst parts of my alcoholism.

I hid alcohol. I sneaked drinks. I lied about drinking. I lied about money. I created excuses for why bills could not be paid. Sometimes I lied about where I was simply so I could get away and drink.

During this time, I also went through a lot of withdrawal symptoms. Tremors, cold sweats, insomnia, nausea, vomiting blood and overall extreme discomfort. I spent my mornings puking on my way to work. From what I know I've had around 15 to 20 seizures due to alcohol withdrawal. I've bitten a part of my tongue off and I tore my rotator cuff out from very strong seizures. The worst part is that I have NO recollection of them whatsoever.

Addiction slowly turns dishonesty into a survival mechanism. And the people closest to you often pay the price.

That relationship became one of the clearest examples in my life of what can be lost when alcohol repeatedly becomes more important than the people who love you. That chapter of my life deserves its own story.

But when the relationship finally ended, I again had nowhere to go.

Beneath the Bridge

My mother allowed me to stay at her home during the day so that I could get out of the cold, but because of my history of showing up severely intoxicated, I could not stay there overnight.

That was when I began learning about homeless shelters and cold-weather shelters.

Before I was able to secure a bed, there were nights when I slept beneath the bridge near Walmart in East Stroudsburg. Anyone familiar with that area understands how cold Pennsylvania winters can become. Now imagine being underneath a bridge, with winter wind moving through it all night.

During that period of my life, much of my day revolved around survival. Where could I get warm? Where could I eat? Was there room at the shelter? Where could I sleep tonight?

Eventually, I was able to obtain a bed at a shelter. For approximately two years, my life moved back and forth between shelters, temporary places to stay, and my mother's house.

Then, after showing up intoxicated too many times, I was permanently removed from the cold-weather shelter. I had burned another bridge. This time, almost literally.

I had burned another bridge. This time, almost literally.

George Martin

Something had to change.

Rehab Was Not New to Me

Rehabilitation was not some magical place I had never considered before. I had already been there.

Between approximately 2018 and 2023, I went to rehab multiple times—around seven admissions in total.

I knew the language of recovery. I knew what counselors were going to say. I knew about consequences. I knew alcohol was destroying my life.

Knowing something, however, and changing because of it are two completely different things.

My final stay was at Pyramid Healthcare's Hillside treatment facility in East Stroudsburg. That experience was different because I finally began asking a different question.

Instead of asking, How do I stop drinking? I began asking: Why do I keep needing to drink?

Why do I keep needing to drink?

George Martin

That question changed everything.

Finding Cognitive Behavioral Therapy

Twelve-step programs have helped countless people, and I respect anyone who finds recovery through them.

For me, however, cognitive behavioral therapy—CBT—was what finally began making sense.

Through therapy, I started understanding something about myself that I had never properly learned growing up: I did not know how to experience emotions without trying to escape them or enhance them.

If I was sad, I drank. If I was angry, I drank. If I was happy, I drank. If I was bored, I drank. Eventually, almost every emotion became a reason to drink.

CBT helped me understand a pattern: Event. Thought. Feeling. Action. Consequence.

Something happens. I interpret what happened. That interpretation creates an emotional response. I make a decision based on that emotion. And that decision produces a consequence.

It sounds simple when written on a page. Living it is considerably harder.

For years, there seemed to be almost no space between feeling something and reacting to it. Alcohol filled that space. Therapy taught me that the space existed. And within that space was a choice.

Knowledge Was Not Enough

Discovering CBT did not suddenly make everything easy. Understanding your problems does not automatically solve them. I still had to do the work.

I spent a tremendous amount of time in treatment listening, learning, repeating concepts, questioning my own behavior, and forcing myself to look honestly at decisions I had spent years blaming on other people or circumstances.

Eventually, I completed treatment and moved into a halfway house in Altoona, Pennsylvania. That decision brought me to the place I have now called home for the past three years.

My life today is not perfect. It does not need to be. It is manageable. And after years of chaos, there is something incredibly valuable about a manageable life.

A Different Way to Look at Homelessness

My experience also changed the way I see homelessness.

Homelessness is easy to judge from a distance. We see someone sleeping beneath a bridge, standing outside a shelter, or asking for help. What we usually do not see are the hundred events that came before that moment.

We do not see the broken relationships. The trauma. The mental-health struggles. The addiction. The financial hardship. The job loss. The family conflict. The mistakes. Or sometimes simply the bad circumstances that piled on top of one another faster than someone could recover from them.

Homelessness is rarely as simple as someone deciding they do not want a home.

Mental-health conditions and substance-use disorders can certainly be part of homelessness, but they do not define every person experiencing it. In many cases, homelessness actually makes those struggles harder.

Imagine trying to rebuild your life while constantly wondering where you will sleep. Imagine applying for work when you have nowhere to shower. Imagine attending appointments without reliable transportation. Imagine trying to remain sober when nearly every minute of the day is spent in survival mode.

When food, safety, hygiene, transportation, employment and shelter are uncertain, survival itself can become a full-time job.

One of the greatest mistakes we can make is believing that someone's lowest moment tells us everything about who they are. It does not.

People experiencing homelessness are parents. Sons. Daughters. Veterans. Workers. People with addictions. People in recovery. People dealing with mental illness. People who made terrible decisions. People who simply experienced terrible circumstances. There are also people that may be considered “bad” by the normal standards.

Often, they are a combination of those things. They are still people.

Compassion does not mean pretending harmful behavior is acceptable. It does not mean removing personal responsibility from someone. It simply means recognizing that accountability and humanity can exist at the same time.

A person can make mistakes and still deserve dignity. A person can destroy parts of their life and still rebuild. A person's circumstances may explain where they are today, but they do not have to determine where they will be tomorrow.

Before judging someone experiencing homelessness, remember: You may only be seeing one page of a story you have never read.

You may only be seeing one page of a story you have never read.

George Martin

“Change the Man”

That brings me back to Brandon Novak's words: “If you can change the man, then you can change the world.”

For years, I believed my problems existed outside of me. People were the problem. Relationships were the problem. Jobs were the problem. Money was the problem. Not having the things I wanted was the problem.

Even alcohol, strangely enough, was not really the original problem. Alcohol was my solution. It was simply a terrible solution.

The deeper problem was how I responded to life. My attitude. My behavior. My thinking. My inability to tolerate uncomfortable emotions. My unwillingness to take responsibility for certain choices.

I spent years wanting the world around me to change while remaining largely the same person inside of it. CBT helped me understand that I had that equation backward.

I could not control every person. I could not control every relationship. I could not control the past. I could not control disappointment, rejection, loss, grief, frustration or hardship. But I could begin changing how I responded to those things.

Recovery taught me that emotions do not have to be feared or escaped. Sadness can simply be sadness. Anger can simply be anger. Fear can simply be fear. You can acknowledge an emotion without allowing it to make your decisions for you.

And once I began accepting responsibility for my choices, something unexpected happened. The world started looking different. Not because the entire world had changed. Because I had.

That is what the quote ultimately means to me.

We spend enormous amounts of energy trying to change our circumstances, other people, our surroundings and things completely outside of our control. Sometimes the most meaningful place to begin is much closer to home.

Change your thinking. Change your behavior. Change how you respond. Change the man.

Life isn't a problem to be solved. It is an experience to be lived. I'm done not living my life. I'm done just existing.

And sometimes, when you change the man, you really do change the entire world as you see it through your eyes.

Thank you for this opportunity.

How You Can Help

Stroudsburg Wesleyan Church (Wesleyan Inn cold-weather shelter), 915 N. Fifth St., Stroudsburg. Opens Nov. 1; needs overnight volunteers, meals, and warm clothing (sweatshirts, pants, socks). Church office: 570-421-0750. (stroudsburgwesleyan.org)

Stroudsburg United Methodist Church, 547 Main St., Stroudsburg. Sunday soup kitchen needs meal volunteers plus cases of water, soda, and take-out containers. 570-421-6020. (stroudsburgumc.com)

Street2Feet (Resources for Human Development), 130 N. First St., Stroudsburg. Daytime shelter, outreach, and case management. (rhd.org/street2feet)

Pocono Area Transitional Housing (PATH), East Stroudsburg. Transitional housing, mostly for families. (pathhouse.org)

The Salvation Army, Washington Street Corps, East Stroudsburg. Emergency shelter. (salvationarmyusa.org)

Family Promise of the Poconos, serving Monroe and Pike counties. Emergency shelter for families with children. (familypromisepa.org)

Safe Monroe (formerly Women's Resources of Monroe County), Delaware Water Gap. Emergency shelter, with a focus on survivors of abuse. (safemonroe.org)

Pocono Mountains United Way. One phone number if you don't know who else to call. (poconounitedway.org/get-help)

The five county-funded agencies above split $57,388 in county funding this year, each receiving less than a lot of households spend on rent alone. Bedding, cold-weather gear, and volunteer hours help more than a Facebook comment ever will.