When Nicole Kitchen-Rhodes arrived in Gainesville with her three children, she did not know where they would sleep that night.
She had left Tampa searching for a place that would keep her family together. The options she had seen before didn’t feel safe for her children. When she called St. Francis House, she was told to come during intake hours, with no guarantee there would be space when she arrived.
“When I got here, I had a room for me and my three kids,” Kitchen-Rhodes said. “They kept us together.”
At the time, she said she was overwhelmed by what had led her there.
“I was really depressed,” she said. “Having to introduce my kids to homelessness – it was kind of embarrassing for me. I felt like I let my kids down.”
For weeks, she said, it was difficult to process how quickly her situation had changed.
Now, the downtown shelter that gave her family a place to stay and helped her rebuild her life has closed, with day service ending in March and their emergency shelter closing last month, raising questions about how Gainesville will continue to support families experiencing homelessness.
Why did St. Francis House close?
Executive Director Lauri Schiffbauer said rising costs for food and utilities strained the shelter’s budget while donations remained steady.
“Our operating expenses kept increasing while our fundraising stayed about the same, so we were spending more than we were bringing in,” Schiffbauer said.
About 80% of the shelter’s funding came from private donations. As costs continued to rise, the organization could no longer sustain its level of service.
Who relied on the shelter?
St. Francis House focused on families with children, a group Schiffbauer said is often less visible in the community.
“They’re kind of like the unseen homeless,” she said.
Unlike individuals experiencing homelessness who may be visible in public spaces, families often avoid being seen on the streets out of fear of losing custody of their children. As a result, many stay out of sight, even while facing housing instability.
The shelter operated at full capacity for more than three years, serving about 100 families each year, including up to 250 children. Many were experiencing homelessness for the first time after sudden setbacks such as medical bills, job loss or unexpected emergencies.
For Kitchen-Rhodes, the hardest part was not just the instability, but what it meant for her children.
“When you have to explain that to your kids, they don’t understand,” she said. “They don’t know why.”
She said her children formed connections with others at the shelter, from staff to day clients, making the experience both difficult and unexpectedly supportive.
What happened to the residents?
Local organizations worked together to ensure residents did not return to homelessness after the closure.
Support came from Keys to Home, the county’s coordinated homelessness response system, and Family Promise, which provides short-term housing and financial assistance to families.
GRACE Marketplace, a campus that offers shelter and day services for individuals experiencing homelessness, also helped house some residents.
“Everybody who was in the shelter has been permanently housed,” Schiffbauer said.
Kitchen-Rhodes now lives in her own place, something she once questioned would be possible.
“Everything that I have in my place is because of them,” she said.
What does the closure mean for the community?
For Kitchen-Rhodes, the closure is not just about losing a building. It is about losing a space where people felt understood.
After finding housing, she returned to St. Francis House as an intake advocate, working directly with residents and day clients navigating the same uncertainty she once faced.
“They look at me because I lived here,” she said. “They can come to me where they feel comfortable.”
She credited her case manager, Tracy Brown, with helping her regain confidence during her time at the shelter.
She said the environment at St. Francis House stood apart because of the level of care and connection.
“They love coming here,” she said. “Even if they had to leave at a certain time, they still wanted to come back.”
Now, she worries about those who relied on that consistency.
“I look at the people that’s out here and I’m like, what’s going to happen to them?” she said.
For University of Florida senior Leiah Kim, the closure highlights a broader issue within the community.
“I honestly didn’t know this shelter existed before hearing about its closing,” Kim said. “I see homelessness around Gainesville, especially on the outskirts of campus, but it’s something you politely pass by.”
She said the closure made her think more about what she doesn’t see.
Kim agreed the loss of a resource like St. Francis House could have ripple effects across Gainesville, especially for families who may not have other options.
Will St. Francis House reopen?
Schiffbauer said there are plans to reopen a family shelter, though the timeline depends on the sale of the current building and securing a new location.
The organization also plans to adopt a more cost-effective model, where residents prepare their own meals. The change is intended to reduce expenses while helping families build independence.
The closure's continuing impact
For Kitchen-Rhodes, St. Francis House did more than put a roof over her head. It changed how she saw herself and what she believed was possible.
“St. Francis turned my whole life around,” she said. “It changed me.”
She said the support she received pushed her to move forward, even when she felt stuck.
“They helped me build myself back up,” she said.
Now, she hopes to do the same for others. In the long term, she plans to start a non-profit boutique focused on helping women and young girls rebuild confidence after difficult experiences.
“It’s going to be about self-esteem,” she said. “Helping women who went through what I went through.”
Kitchen-Rhodes said the closure has been difficult to accept.
“It was really hurtful,” she said. “I wish I had zillions of dollars where I could keep it open myself.”
Still, she said the impact of St. Francis House does not end with its doors closing. Its memory continues in the lives of the people who walked through them and left with something they did not have before.
For Kitchen-Rhodes, it started with a room for her and her children. It ended with a sense of stability she is empowered to hold onto.