Part 2: Time for Real Answers: Yakima County Deserves to Know Where Our Tax Money’s Going

Yakima County Deserves Accountability—Demanding Answers, Not Excuses

In my last post, Time for Real Results: Why I Wrote My Vote of No Confidence, I didn’t mince words. I called out the Yakima Homeless Coalition because I’m done—our tax dollars keep vanishing, yet the streets are a mess, and people are dying out there. That wasn’t a gentle nudge; it was a vote of no confidence in a system failing us. You’ve told me you’re with me: more tents, more trashed storefronts, more tax bills, and no one explaining why it’s getting worse. We’re all asking—where’s our money going when homelessness is killing people and breaking our community? Let’s dig into the numbers and the Coalition’s flimsy “accountability,” because it’s a disgrace—and the 2025 budgets make it undeniable.

Rental assistance is their big sell—the fix to keep people housed and off our streets. Yakima County has committed $3,677,605 (estimated) through June 2025, per their own “Programs We Fund” page. That’s $3.6 million of our money—covering rental assistance, rapid rehousing. I’d cheer if it worked. But walk downtown: more camps, more shattered windows, more customers dodging our shops. We’re shelling out $3.6 million, and it’s not enough—people are still dying on our streets, at least 3 times more from overdoses than cold. We need real reform, not excuses—Yakima County deserves clear accountability, not vague promises.

They tout “program accountability”: admin costs below 6%; funds spread evenly or a plan to keep going post-grant; more exits to permanent housing; fewer returns to homelessness; shorter time homeless; accurate data; and HMIS/Coordinated Entry participation. Sounds decent—until you see it’s all hot air. “More exits”—how many? “Fewer returns”—what’s the number? “Shorter time”—compared to what? No targets, no proof they’re hitting these with that $3.6 million.

Former UGM Executive Director Mike Johnson asked for straightforward data on the Coalition’s rental assistance and hotel/motel voucher program—8-10 basic points, like success rates or follow-ups, the essentials to gauge if it’s worth the effort. He got delays, then a flat-out admission: the data can’t be delivered. Why? The Coalition hands out vouchers in winter to “preserve life” for those dodging shelters or banned for breaking rules. To them, success is burning through the budget—nothing more, in my opinion, nothing measured.

Mike Kay from Camp Hope, another frontline provider in Yakima, backs this up with his perspective. He says the voucher program was meant as a safety valve—extra beds when shelters overflowed, especially for families. But it’s twisted into a free-for-all: Kay points to Toppenish, where vouchers sent folks to the El Corral motel despite open shelter beds—costing us 3 to 5 times more than a shelter spot. Worse, he says vouchers are catnip for addicts—taxpayer-funded rooms turn into drug dens, hosting “drug parties” or just a quiet spot to buy, sell, and use. Then there’s the crime: trafficking, prostitution, even dodging court no-contact orders to shack up with abusive partners, leaving police, fire, and EMS to clean up. And the motels? Dirty, broken-down, places you or I wouldn’t touch. Kay’s take on rental assistance isn’t much rosier: it’s great if you’re low-income, but COVID hit middle-income folks—job losses, medical crises—and they’re told they earn too much. Landlords hate it too; they call it a nightmare to recoup losses, slanted toward renters. The Coalition’s letting this slide.

The Coalition’s Data Blind Spot

Johnson dug deeper and found the problem rooted in the Coalition’s setup. They lean on the Homeless Management Information System (HMIS), a tool built for federal/state checkboxes, not real-world outcomes. He was told pulling those metrics would mean hours, maybe days, of slogging through individual provider reports—only to end up with numbers too shaky to trust. HMIS isn’t a case management system, and the Coalition hasn’t made it one. It’s a machine for logging transactions for compliance, not tracking lives. Kay’s earlier examples—vouchers bypassing shelters, enabling crime—prove why this matters. They can’t even tell us if our money’s saving people or subsidizing overdoses.

A Push for Accountability

That’s where I’ll ask the question: why doesn’t the Yakima Homeless Coalition run a dual system, like an Electronic Medical Record (EMR), to actually manage this? Johnson bets most providers already have their own tracking tools—case management isn’t new tech. If the Coalition cared about results, they could rally providers around a shared EMR, coordinating care and proving what works. Why not demand that grant funds come with a mandate to feed data into something useful? It’s less about impossibility and more about unwillingness—a fix sitting right there. The rental assistance and voucher programs’ “preserve life” metric sounds noble, but without follow-up data, it’s a black box—money goes out, and no one knows if it’s a Band-Aid or a breakthrough. Kay says it’s worse: it’s a lifeline for addiction and crime, and we’re footing the bill.

Overdoses kill way more than cold—3-to-1 or perhaps even higher. Are vouchers—or that $3.6 million in rental assistance—putting people in rooms to die instead of freeze? Kay’s seen the drug parties; Johnson’s chasing the proof. We don’t know. They say we can’t know. That’s not accountability; that’s a dodge. People are dying on our streets, and we’re funding this blind. If they can’t track vouchers beyond “we spent it,” how are they proving “more exits” or “shorter time” with rental assistance? Their goals are a wish list, not results, and we’re stuck guessing while our $3.6 million vanishes.

Then there’s the cleanup. The City of Yakima’s 2025 budget slates $573,797 for the Clean City Program—over half a million to tackle garbage and debris clogging our streets and parks. I’d estimate about 90%—roughly $516,417—goes to homeless encampments or debris left, because that’s where the mess is. That’s on top of the $3.6 million for rental assistance. We’re funding both ends—millions to “help,” then over $500,000 to sweep up the failure—and the streets are still a graveyard. Businesses are leaving, taxpayers are bleeding, and the Coalition’s “accurate data” doesn’t tell us how many lives we’re saving or losing.

Here’s What They Owe Us:

• How many people are they helping with that $3.6 million? Give me a hard count—hundreds, thousands, or just a trickle? We’re paying; tell us.

• How long are they on assistance? Months to get stable, or years? If it’s endless, it’s not help—help could mean permanent supportive housing, but that isn’t what this is.

• What’s the assistance period, and can they keep renewing? Six months, then more, with no end? Show me the plan—or admit there isn’t one.

• What percentage comes back for more? “Fewer returns” sounds nice—if most are repeaters, that $3.6 million’s a bust. I want that stat.

• What percentage needs drug or alcohol treatment? Are they tackling it with our money, or just renting the next OD? Kay’s seen the rooms; give us the numbers.

• What percentage had police called for domestic violence during assistance? If our $3.6 million is funding chaos—abusive partners dodging court orders, per Kay—we’re making it worse. Give me those call numbers.

What kind of “help” are they receiving?

• What’s the case management look like? Jobs, skills—or just checks from our $3.6 million?

• Is it required? Mandatory? Optional? Nothing?

• What percentage got three or more thirty-minute case manager meetings? We’re paying $3.6 million for fixes, not chit-chat.

And our money:

• How much per person of that $3.6 million? $600? $2,000? We’re footing it—spell it out.

• How much goes to landlords versus overhead? Their 6% admin cap’s a start—if it’s 94%—nearly $8 million—and we’re still missing the mark, show every dollar.

• How many double-dip other county funds? Stacking aid while streets stay full? That’s not right—break it down.

And with all the pain we’re taking:

• How many homes receiving assistance had police calls, and for what reasons—drugs, fights, theft? If our $3.6 million investment is fueling trafficking or prostitution, like Kay warns, that’s on them. Every incident should be documented.

This is common sense. We’re working hard, yet we still have an increasing homeless population and more overdose deaths happening on our streets. Camps continue to spread—despite allocating $516,417 specifically for cleanup in 2025 alone—and our costs keep rising. We’re spending $3.6 million on rental assistance, plus ongoing refuse cleanups we can’t fully track. The Coalition’s vague promises of “more exits” and “shorter stays” are meaningless without concrete data to back them up. Relying on anecdotal success stories highlights a deeper issue—a lack of clear accountability and measurable outcomes. We need meaningful reforms and transparent metrics, because without measurable progress, we’re not just losing money; we’re losing lives.

I wrote that vote of no confidence because I’m tired of seeing our community suffer while the Coalition avoids accountability. We’re not asking for miracles—we’re demanding answers. Answers that prove our $3.6 million investment is reducing deaths, not just inflating cleanup costs. Answers that justify spending $516,417 to sweep up a mess that’s only getting worse. Answers that explain why our neighbor’s shop has become a crime scene. And with an additional $4 million allocated this year and another $4 million planned for the homeless response in 2026, accountability isn’t optional—it’s mandatory. Keep in mind, this is taxpayer money, and we deserve tangible results, not endless excuses.

They won’t give us answers unless we demand them. Yakima County, it’s time to speak up. Share this message. Insist on seeing the data yourself. Show up, ask hard questions, and refuse to accept “we don’t know” as an answer. We’ve already paid for accountability; now it’s time to get it. Let’s turn frustration into action, and this mess into a movement. Taxpayers deserve better than vague excuses—you deserve excellence. I believe our county commissioners can fix this and have faith in their ability to do so. For everyone’s sake, I hope they do.