Early Prison Releases and Hotel Placements Produce Unexpected Outcomes During the Pandemic
By: Buzz Von Ornsteiner
Tags: Homelessness, Covid 19, Pandemic, Criminal Justice, Prison

The transition from prison to the harsh realities of New York City is seldom easy. Finding employment and housing is always a huge challenge but in 2020 COVID-19 has shadowed the incarcerated. As returning New Yorkers, their stories are unique. Ironically, the added obstacles they face have also brought them benefits in the form of the housing they need to survive during a deadly pandemic.

Robert McCoy, 56, is finally able to experience having his own bedroom, his own bathroom, and the internal peace of mind that comes from attaining privacy for the first time in over ten years. “It certainly has changed my life,” he said.

Robert McCoy

For the majority of his adult life, McCoy had only known upstate prisons, New York City shelters, park benches, and subway cars to call “home.” A life restricted to dormitories and communal bathrooms. A world where privacy was a toilet stall and your time to sleep was based on rules and regulations. Ironically, it took COVID-19 and the real threat of death, to ultimately turn McCoy’s life around.

Last April, as the pandemic surged forward, the city signed a contract with the Hotel Association of New York City, allowing at least 10,000 homeless to be assigned individual rooms within 63 private hotels. This attempt to help reduce the spread of COVID gave Robert and others like him more than a safe harbor. It gave them a perch from which to rebuild their shattered lives.

Just two months prior to the pandemic McCoy’s life was completely different. in January 2020, McCoy was released from an upstate prison, but he violated his probation by not attending his court-mandated drug program. Placed at Rikers Island, he was either going to be sent back to upstate prison or remain at a city-based in-patient treatment program. But months passed and he remained, mostly lying on his metal bed, while other inmates came and went.

“I did a count recently, about 20 years, 21, 23 years. Small bits and pieces here and there,” McCoy said, describing prison as a revolving door, as his parole violations had become a routine part of his life. Looking down he admits, “Isn’t that a shame?” His first arrest occurred at age 23. Sentenced to six months, he was out in four.

“Drugs come first. Then criminal behavior comes, so you can get more drugs,” says McCoy. “When I got out of jail, I just started using [crack cocaine] again and again and again.” And that had been McCoy’s life until the pandemic hit.

By mid-March, the pandemic had begun to shut down New York City. At Rikers Island, McCoy remembers feeling fearful that COVID-19 was descending over his dormitory. “We felt trapped, like rats on a sinking ship. We didn’t have masks and social distancing wasn’t possible.”

“They told me, ‘we’re not sending you upstate, Mr. McCoy, we’re going to get you into a program.’ Then everything went bam, COVID-19 became an issue,” McCoy recalls. “Then on March 19, ‘I woke up and I had a ‘booming fever’ and a dry cough. And I said, ‘Oh no, I hope I don’t got it.’”

Remaining in his Rikers dorm bed, getting up only to drink water from the facility fountains, “I kept my mouth shut because if I told anyone, I said to myself, ‘these people are gonna bury me under the jail,’” said McCoy.

“I was scared to tell anyone at Rikers. I thought they would lock me away and throw away the key. That’s why I kept it to myself,” says McCoy.

He continued to fight the virus on his own. “I thought I was going to die. I knew I had caught it. 12 hours later, the fear was gone. But I couldn’t talk for a week,” said McCoy.

Nine days later, to his surprise, McCoy was released on March 28.

He was one of the first, but soon other inmates followed. Over the course of several months, due to the spread of COVID-19, Governor Cuomo transitioned 3,000 jail and prison inmates back into the community.

Approximately 800, like McCoy, were parole violators. Of the total released, most were sent elsewhere in the state; McCoy was one of 500 who returned to New York City.

The pandemic had indirectly given McCoy a second chance and he was ready to give living in the Big Apple his best shot.

Back in Manhattan, McCoy was struck at seeing a city without people, “I saw how quiet. everything was. New York City still seems so big and so demanding. Now, it is old me, against big old it,” he said.

Former inmate speaks on living in the NYC shelter system during COVID-19

With no other alternatives, McCoy returned to Bellevue Men’s Shelter as he had done numerous times throughout his life. Within a day he was transferred up to Wards Island’s Men’s Shelter and from there on to a number of other placements throughout the next month.

Susanna Karlin, a social worker discusses her client’s NYC city transitions.

Susanna Karlin, a social worker assigned to work with former inmates on their prison releases and shelter transitions, recalls her frustration during the month of April when she was not able to meet face-to-face with McCoy or any of her other clients.

“They were anxious to leave the prison yet when they came out, they were not so relieved to be in the shelter. Beds were still only two feet apart and nobody was wearing masks. So there was a great disappointment in knowing that freedom did not come with safer circumstances,” said Karlin.

Eventually, restrictions were lifted for Karlin by mid-May and she was able to meet with McCoy outside for his hotel placement and provide him with guidance on housing resources. After experiencing the privacy provided by his hotel room, McCoy wanted his own space for good. For most New Yorkers, locating housing under the best of circumstances is difficult. For McCoy, having his own hotel room gave him the stability he needed to focus on his housing goals.

Anjali Thomas, a psychologist discusses the NYC homeless shelter system.

Karlin agrees, “Housing is the first and primary need because the most wonderful thing that any person can have is housing and that includes some degree of privacy and the ability to access running water.” Yet, it took a pandemic for McCoy to finally experience it and ultimately develop the drives to attain it permanently.

However, not all New Yorkers are in agreement with the city’s decision to provide individual hotel rooms to the homeless. Emotionally drained by the pandemic, some New Yorkers question why, with so many working families facing evictions, should 300 million be directed for the homeless to be placed in hotels. In October, the city renewed its contract with the Hotel Association of New York City for an additional six-months.

For Michael Cucarro, a retired policeman, living in Staten Island it makes no sense. ”It’s a continual waste of spending, without a realistic plan. Why aren’t they utilizing city-owned buildings or the Javits Center for the homeless,” says Cucarro.

Caitlyn La Tronica, MSN, RN, views placing the homeless in private hotels as the only reasonable solution. “Whatever happens to them is going to continue to have repercussions and ripple effects to all of us,” said La Tronica.

Caitly La Tronica, MSN RN, discusses community needs during a pandemic.

McCoy is excited for his future. “Because I went through so much in my life. I lived in the streets. I’ve been at the bottom of the barrel. I’ve been in prison. And now for the first time, I’m sitting in a hotel room waiting for my apartment to come through.”

For Karlin, she sees McCoy as a good outcome from a short term investment. “Investing in Robert McCoy, and individuals like him is investing in our community,” says Karlin.

With his move-in date set for next month, McCoy looks forward to creating his music, having friends over, and being able to explore his new community. His future is brighter because he feels he belongs and he’s grateful that in spite of everything the pandemic changed his life for the better.

“And the good thing about it is I get to close the door and this place is mine. I got air conditioning, a color TV, and my very own bathroom,” he remarks. “And it’s mine, all mine.”