Angelo Boer is disturbed by what he sees happening. As the ranks of the jobless have swollen, more and more people are running out of food and money to pay bills. An emergency fund for utility cutoffs and evictions that was supposed to last the winter has already been depleted.
He's no less bothered, as development director at Catholic Charities of Baltimore, by what he isn't seeing: donations. In past downturns, giving has risen. Not so far this year. With contributions off 5 percent, the agency is on pace to miss its fundraising target by $500,000.
"It's less money to provide the services, but more services are needed," Boer said. "These are uncharted waters for us. We've never been through anything like this before."
The sinking economy is straining the ability of charities, churches and government agencies to cope with rising calls for help from around the Baltimore region. People must look harder and longer for aid, often turning to multiple sources, say the agencies' officials. Increasingly, the working poor and middle class are tumbling into crisis. Elderly residents and others close to the margin find it harder to make ends meet on incomes that are fixed or dwindling.
Organizations that aid the poor worry about the growing demand and are taking steps to adjust. At Catholic Charities, for example, an internal review is exploring possible savings. But, Boer said, "There aren't any good options."
At the Salvation Army, Maj. Roger Coulson, who heads the Baltimore-area command, is not nervous - yet. "Our experience," he said, "has always been that as long as you're able to share with the community what the needs are, people always seem to come through."
The organization's annual red-kettle campaign is under way in public places that shoppers frequent during the holidays. The Salvation Army also has sent out "urgent" letters appealing for donations to assist "record numbers" of needy.
Coulson said the problems have become more acute from month to month, and are worse this fall than last. He predicted the trend would continue, ensnaring people who until the economy went sour had no need for charitable aid - people like the Schmidts of Finksburg.
On Halloween, Karl Schmidt, 62, lost his job as parts manager at a car dealership. Days earlier his wife, Cathy Schmidt, 53, learned her cancer will require chemotherapy in January. His layoff might force them to buy private COBRA insurance, though they aren't sure how they'll afford the $600 monthly premium.
