'A tough pill to swallow': More families living in tents, RVs on South Shore

Stefan Aulenbach and his family are living in a campground near Lunenburg, N.S., while he searches for a place to live — but time is running out. The campground shuts its doors in October, and he feels no closer to finding a home for his family. 

"We had never planned to be living here 24/7," Aulenbach said. "It's beyond humbling. It sometimes can be a tough pill to swallow."

Aulenbach and his family are one of a growing number who are living in campgrounds, vehicles, and tents on Nova Scotia's South Shore. Housing workers in the area say this issue has been brewing for some time, but the pandemic pushed the situation to crisis levels. 

Aulenbach is originally from the area and moved back this spring, but couldn't find an affordable place to live, so he moved into the two-bunk RV with his wife, daughter, son-in-law, and granddaughter. 

He's hoping to find a place in the area that will allow his family to stay together, but he's concerned about the lack of affordable options. 

"I take it personally to make sure that my family's wellness is covered," he said. "I'd be the one to sleep in the pickup truck out in the driveway if we could find a place big enough for my wife and children and the baby.

"We'll just continue to hope and pray that something comes our way."

Data collected by the South Shore Open Doors Association shows as of this week, 72 households in the area are facing homelessness, including 48 children. Of that number, 35 are living in campgrounds, tents, shelters, vehicles, or couch surfing.

Matthew Thompson, a member of the South Shore Housing Action Coalition and the president of NEST Affordable Living Association, said though the South Shore Open Doors Association keeps track of how many people are asking for help, it is hard to pin down since many people don't come forward.

"A lot of people aren't reporting it because we have mental health issues that are popping up. People are stressed, they're heartbroken, people are ashamed of the fact they have no place to live anymore," Thomson said. 

There are also people who don't recognize their situation as homelessness, or are concerned about stigma.

Aulenbach agreed. 

"I think it forces some injury on people's mental health. Insecurities and instability and self worth, self doubt," he said. "You get lost in the shuffle and you start to wonder, 'How strong can I be as the leader of the family? Is my family losing faith in me?' It's my biggest question."

Aulenbach said there are still moments of joy in his life thanks to his 18-month-old granddaughter, but he worries about not being able to provide adequate stability.