Extended unemployment benefits for nearly 2 million Americans begin to run out Wednesday, cutting off a steady stream of income and guaranteeing a dismal holiday season for people already struggling with bills they cannot pay.
Unless Congress changes its mind, benefits that had
been extended up to 99 weeks will end this month.
That means Christmas is out of the question for
Wayne Pittman, 46, of Lawrenceville, Ga., and his wife and 9-year-old son. The
carpenter was working up to 80 hours a week at the beginning of the decade, but
saw that gradually drop to 15 hours before it dried up completely. His last
$297 check will go to necessities, not presents.
"I have a little boy, and that's kind of hard
to explain to him," Pittman said.
The average weekly unemployment benefit in the U.S.
is $302.90, though it varies widely depending on how states calculate the
payment. Because of supplemental state programs and other factors, it's hard to
know for sure who will lose their benefits at any given time. But the Labor
Department estimates that, without a Congress-approved extension, about 2
million people will be cut off by Christmas.
Congressional opponents of extending the benefits
beyond this month say fiscal responsibility should come first. Republicans in
the House and Senate, along with a handful of conservative Democrats, say
they're open to extending benefits, but not if it means adding to the $13.8
trillion national debt.
Even if Congress does lengthen benefits, cash
assistance is at best a stopgap measure, said Carol Hardison, executive
director of Crisis Assistance Ministry in Charlotte, N.C., which has seen
20,000 new clients since the Great Recession started in December 2007.
"We're going to have to have a new
conversation with the people who are still suffering, about the potentially
drastic changes they're going to have to make to stay out of the homeless
shelter," she said.
Forget Christmas presents. What the so-called
"99ers" want most of all is what remains elusive in the worst economy
in generations: a job.
"I am not searching for a job, I am begging
for one," said Felicia Robbins, 30, as she prepared to move out of a
homeless shelter in Pensacola, Fla., where she and her five children have been
living. She is using the last of her cash reserves, about $500, to move into a
small, unfurnished rental home.
Robbins lost her job as a juvenile justice worker
in 2009 and her last $235 unemployment check will arrive Dec. 13. Her
10-year-old car isn't running, and she walks each day to the local unemployment
office to look for work.
Jeanne Reinman, 61, of Greenville, S.C., still has
her house, but even that comes with a downside.
After losing her computer design job a year and a
half ago, Reinman scraped by with her savings and a weekly $351 unemployment
check. When her nest egg vanished in July, she started using her unemployment
to pay off her mortgage and stopped paying her credit card bills. She recently
informed a creditor she couldn't make payments on a loan because her benefits
were ending.
"I'm more concerned about trying to hang onto
my house than paying you," she told the creditor.
Ninety-nine weeks may seem like a long time to find
a job. But even as the economy grows, jobs that vanished in the Great Recession
have not returned. The private sector added about 159,000 jobs in October —
half as many as needed to reduce the unemployment rate of 9.6 percent, which
the Federal Reserve expects will hover around 9 percent for all of next year.
"I apply for at least two jobs a day,"
said Silvia Lewis, of Nashville, Tenn., who's also drained her 401(k) and most
of her other savings. "The constant thing that I hear, and a lot of my
friends are in the same boat, is that you're overqualified."
JoAnn Sampson of Charlotte hears the same thing. A
former cart driver at U.S. Airways, she and her husband are both facing the end
of unemployment benefits, and she can't get so much as an entry-level job.
"When you try to apply for retail or fast
food, they say 'You're overqualified,' they say 'We don't pay that much money,'
they say, 'You don't want this job,'" she said.
Sampson counts her blessings: At least her two
children, a teenager and a college student, are too old to expect much from
Christmas this year.
Shawn Slonsky's three children aren't expecting
much either. The 44-year-old union electrician in northeast Ohio won't be able
to afford presents or even a Christmas tree.
His sons and daughter haven't bothered to send him
holiday wish lists with the latest gizmos and gadgets.
Things used to be different. Before work dried up,
Slonsky earned about $100,000 a year and he and his wife lived in a
three-bedroom house where deer meandered through the backyard. For Christmas, he
bought his aspiring doctor daughter medical books, a guitar, a unicycle.
Then he and his wife lost their jobs. Their house
went into foreclosure and they had to move in with his 73-year-old father.
Now, Slonsky is dreading the holidays as he tries
to stretch his last unemployment check to cover child support, gas, groceries
and utilities.
"You don't even get in the frame of mind for
Christmas when things are bad," he said. "It's hard to be in a jovial
mood all the time when you've got this storm cloud hanging over your
head."
This report includes contributions from Associated
Press writers Meg Kinnard, in Columbia, S.C.; Ray Henry, in Atlanta; Melissa
Nelson, in Pensacola, Fla.; Lucas L. Johnson II in Nashville, Tenn.; and
Jeannie Nuss in Columbus, Ohio.
Copyright
2010 The Associated Press.
