Your browser doesn’t support HTML5 audio
Danny Rickapauth has faced homelessness on and off for 12 years but remains hopeful as he works toward securing housing and a job soon. He shared with WHYY News that he’s been supporting his neighbors by providing charging ports powered by a handmade solar panel, which also helps him earn some income. (Johnny Perez-Gonzalez/WHYY)
From Philly and the Pa. suburbs to South Jersey and Delaware, what would you like WHYY News to cover? Let us know!
In the shadows of a former state police barracks in southern Delaware, a new kind of community has quietly taken root.
Once known as Tent City, this pilot program from the group Code Purple offers shelter, essential hygiene services and case management for people without homes in southern Delaware’s coastal communities. Now called “Tharros Village,” after the Greek word for courage and determination, Code Purple site director Mike Agnew said the village is an experiment in dignity and self-governance.
Currently, the encampment holds 28 tents, evenly split between men and women.
At 49 years old, Danny Rickapauth has faced homelessness off and on for about 12 years. He was born and raised in Wilmington, but eventually relocated to southern Delaware to be near his mother at a nursing home. For the last two years, he has been moving back and forth between the area behind Walmart and the wooded region where Tharros is currently located.
“Other than not having sanitation, not being able to take out trash, it can get kind of gross back there, but I did make good out of it,” Rickapauth said. “It can be depressing … One time, I had a tree literally land on my tent. I was sleeping here and I had to cut myself out of the tent.”
After sharing the harrowing details, he laughed it off with a sense of optimism about his upbringing, saying he feels he is living better now than ever, particularly because he has a tent to legally sleep in.
“It’s nice that you can leave your stuff behind and it’s not going to get stolen. I can go out and go job hunting now. We’re all taking care of each other which before we all didn’t get along,” he said. “It’s weird to see us all working together, but we’re actually doing it.”
Brandywine Counseling and Community Services is taking in 28 individuals, including Rickapauth, with the hope of helping them get back on their feet through their case management support.
“We all had to sign up for case workers in order to stay here,” he said. “I hope I can get a job and maybe a place to live, affordable living.”
Ashley Heffentrager, 23, expressed similar sentiments, sharing her hope to receive the counseling she needs after being without a home for the past two months. She currently holds two jobs, which she hopes will help her get back on her feet.
“It’s been a really good impact … living here at the camp. You have people around you that are in the same situation,” she said. “We have food trucks and people that bring out food to help us out with eating and stuff. There’s food trucks and regular people like us that just bring out food throughout the week. Some days they don’t, but that’s when we survive on our own.”
“I’m just looking again in the counseling to get help with dealing with the loss of my father, that happened in 2020 and with BCCS helping us get out of the streets and having a safe roof over our heads,” she added.
The idea for Tharros Village took shape in the spring, inspired by a straightforward need, Agnew said. “How do we provide hygiene [and] showers to our guests after they leave the Code Purple winter shelters … and unfortunately move back into the woods?”
“All of the people that are residents here in this camp were previously in a primitive encampment. There was no sanitation, there was no trash facilities, no toilet facilities,” he said. “So, I went to the state and asked for permission to put a porta-potty here and trash facilities and they said, ‘Okay Mike, we’re not going to say no, but tell me how you’re going to control it.’”
What began as a simple proposal for a public restroom and trash dispenser soon raised other questions: If approved, how would these amenities be managed and protected?
“We put this one page proposal together and submitted it to the Office Management and Budget and they came back and said, ‘We’re not going to say no, but we want to hear more about your security protocol,’” he said, alluding to some challenges along the road which brought some push backs. “Ultimately, we prepared a 10-page security protocol that addresses all the issues that the state would be concerned with regarding liability. It took a long time to be frank.”
After months of back-and-forth, Agnew and his team secured approval to establish the encampment, which they originally intended to open in the summer to support the homeless population near the beaches. The project officially opened Oct. 15.
The 10-page protocol outlined the implementation plan, security strategy and community-building efforts. The encampment was organized with a “military camp” structure, arranged in rows and columns, with each resident’s contact information placed outside the zipper of their tent for easy access and accountability.
“So the model runs on self-governance, there’s no oversight. There’s no full-time employees, making sure that the rules are followed. It’s self-governed in the sense that each of the residents here have signed a contract, and they’ve agreed to certain rules, certain operating rules,” Agnew said. “Each of our residents have a 20-foot-square site and they could put a 10-foot by 10-foot tent, which we provided.”
Living at the tent community is a two-fold commitment, Agnew explained. Residents must first sign a contract agreeing to the community’s rules and regulations, and second, they must engage with an assigned case manager to help them work toward stability and independence.
As winter approaches, the Village will close as Code Purple’s indoor shelters reopen, but Agnew hopes the village will reopen in March to continue supporting residents as warmer months return.