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"The fact that folks weren't able to legally marry and have those traditional ways of being able to set up retirement, those folks are particularly impacted," says Lisa Marie Alatorre, a human rights organizer with the Coalition on Homelessness in San Francisco.

As is the case today, gays who moved to large cities years ago might have cut off, or been cut off from, relations with their families. Most didn't start families of their own.

"Probably the bigger factor that protects you from losing your housing seems to be having adult children," says Margot Kushel, a professor of medicine at the University of California, San Francisco, who studies health issues among the homeless.

In addition to their diminished family lives, many older gays have lost their closest friends, due to the scourge of AIDS.

"When I was 30 years old, I threw a birthday party for myself," says Oviatt, who moved to San Francisco in 1972. "There were probably 30 people there. There's about four of them still alive."

Issue Gaining Attention

People like Oviatt who have lost work or housing face an additional hurdle: San Francisco is one of the most expensive cities in the country.

"We have a very strong, thriving economy," says Supervisor Campos. "With that comes a very significant increase in rents."

The desire to charge higher rents has led to a spike in evictions. The epicenters recently have been traditionally gay neighborhoods such as the Castro and Bernal Heights.

In April, Jonathan Klein, who like Oviatt had been a longtime business owner in the Castro, committed suicide when faced with eviction. His death, along with the the most recent census, has helped bring attention to the problem of displaced gays.

"If there is a silver lining here, it is the hope that it will increase awareness and heighten the commitment not only of city government but the entire community to deal with this issue," Campos says.

Next week, San Francisco's Planning Commission will hold a hearing to decide whether to approve the opening of a shelter specifically dedicated to housing people who are LGBT.

Many — particularly those who are older or transgendered — have been wary of going to existing shelters for fear of discrimination or abuse.

"About 50 percent of our shelter staff will identify as LGBT," says Marlon Mendieta, program director for Dolores Street Community Services, which will run the shelter. "It's not creating a room or a space where I'm going to segregate the LGBT community. The whole program is prepared."

But the new space will only have 24 beds. Getting it open has been a struggle that has gone on for more than two years.

How The City Responds

San Francisco's problem takes place against the backdrop of a city with an unusual number of top public officials who are gay or transgendered.

"There's an eye on it," says Alatorre, the advocate for the homeless. "By and large, people recognize it's an issue and express sympathy, but we don't see the resources going to the programs that actually serve the need."

San Francisco has enjoyed some success in combating homelessness. The recent census found that the overall count is about where it was two years ago, but there are significantly fewer people who are chronically homeless — that is, who have been living on the streets for more than a year.

"San Francisco has made a tremendous amount of progress on chronic homelessness, which isn't always evident when you walk down the street," says Kushel, referring to the visibility of the homeless.

San Francisco Mayor Edwin M. Lee has run a number of programs designed to combat homelessness, says Bevan Dufty, his lead advisor on the issue, including winning approval from voters last November of a housing trust fund that will create more affordable units.

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