Before Paul Frink knew about New York City’s warming centers, he spent his nights in a sleeping bag in an alleyway, braced against the city’s biting winds.
But as the temperature crept toward the single digits late Sunday night, Mr. Frink found warmth and refuge, surrounded by 17 other people who had been assigned cots in Bellevue Warming Center, under the fluorescent lights at Bellevue Hospital on First Avenue in Manhattan.
They had come in from the cold, a block or so from the frigid East River, wrapped in all the layers they could find: beanies and hoodies, puffer coats and fleeces. Down the hallway, in another larger warming area in Bellevue’s south lobby, dozens more people rested or dozed off on metal perforated seats. Some sat huddled under blankets. Most had shopping bags, garbage bags or duffels with their belongings placed at their feet.
This winter has been savage and unrelenting, harsh on limbs and cheeks and spirits. For homeless New Yorkers, the unbearable conditions can also be deadly.
The death toll from this cold snap in New York City climbed to 18 over the weekend, creating an early test for Mayor Zohran Mamdani’s efforts to compel homeless New Yorkers off the streets and into shelters or warming centers.
The continued cold spell automatically triggered the city’s “Code Blue” status, which relaxes intake policies so more people can quickly enter shelter and receive services. But involuntarily hospitalization is still only to be used for people deemed to be a danger to themselves and others, and is something that the mayor voiced skepticism about before taking office, calling it a “rare and a last resort.”
“Involuntary transport continues to be used in the same manner it was as the prior administration,” Mr. Mamdani said on Friday. “I trust our nurses in making that determination as well as other New Yorkers who are authorized to do so. They’ve done so in a number of moments, and they’ve brought those New Yorkers inside.”
Since the severe cold began on Jan. 19, the city has involuntarily moved at least 34 New Yorkers inside. City Hall officials said Monday they did not believe that any New Yorkers had died immediately after refusing support from city outreach workers. It is possible, though, that some of those who died had been contacted by social service workers in months or years past.
The far more effective approach has been encouraging people to enter shelters and other indoor sites; 1,400 such placements have been made at places like Bellevue, which has partnered with the city to open its new warming space. The 18 private cots are distributed on a first-come, first-served basis, and people show up as early as 5:30 p.m. to get a spot.
Over the weekend, as temperatures plummeted, the city operated 65 such warming facilities, which included public schools, hospitals, buses and City University of New York spaces where people could come inside to rest and seek respite from the cold. The warming buses are helping relieve the strain on overcrowded drop-in centers and also offer homeless individuals a space to sleep if they don’t feel comfortable coming indoors.
Across New York on Sunday night, groups of outreach workers, hospital workers, shelter staff and city volunteers mounted a race of sorts against the cold, trying to get as many New Yorkers as possible inside a bus or inside a building. Some workers feared for those New Yorkers who do not feel comfortable coming inside these institutional spaces; others were worried that people would be turned away at some sites because beds had filled up.
“When people return back to the streets, I feel defeated,” said Olawale Adigun, 45, program director of the drop-in center and safe haven site in Jamaica, Queens, run by the Children’s Rescue Fund.
Mr. Adigun said the drop-in center typically hits its 40-person capacity close to midnight, after people finish panhandling at the nearby Jamaica train station. They had served a warm dinner at 6 p.m. There were bathrooms, showers and a closet with spare coats and blankets.
Not everyone takes advantage of the warming centers: Early Monday morning, only two people were seen sleeping on cots at the Gouverneur Clinic on the Lower East Side. City officials said that there have been nearly 4,000 visits to warming facilities, including those run by Health & Hospitals and the Department of Social Services, since Jan 19.
At a drop-in center in Jamaica, the room was filled with about 20 people, most eyes glued to the Super Bowl. Steve Heron said he didn’t particularly care who won the game, and expressed indifference to Bad Bunny’s halftime show because he’s more of a fan of reggaeton. But he was relieved to be resting indoors, knowing nobody would touch him or his belongings.
He once spent most of his nights on the E train, even though he wouldn’t call what he got there sleep. He spent the hours half-awake, afraid that somebody would hurt or rob him. Then he learned about the drop-in center for the homeless.
“This is my home,” he said. “For the moment.”
Mr. Heron, 63, who has been sleeping at the drop-in center every night for years, said he struggles to persuade other people on the street to come stay there. Some of them have had frightening experiences at other shelters, having their belongings stolen or getting into fights. Others prefer to be on the subway where they can ask for money.
“I try to convince them,” Mr. Heron said. “I tell them you can leave your bags on the floor, charge your phone. But some people are wanderers.”
Outside the drop-in center a large white vehicle, one of the city’s mobile warming units, was parked. This space has brought a modicum of relief to the center staff, because they can send people there when their indoor space reaches capacity.
Inside the bus, about 15 people were seated, some drifting off under blankets or coats. One man was re-wrapping bandages around his hands. Another was frustrated that he hadn’t been able to get a bed inside.
At Bellevue, around 10:30 p.m., the cots in the warming center were already all filled up. Some people tucked under blankets and some had erected privacy screens around them as they tried to sleep, their belongings in garbage and shopping bags around them. Mr. Frink, 60, had recently arrived in New York from San Bernardino, Calif. A preacher directed him to Bellevue; he came in with nothing, after his duffel bag was stolen at the Port Authority Bus Terminal, he said.
“They need to clean the bathrooms more and have more toilet paper,” he said, adding that he is in the process of beginning to look for his own apartment.
“We have a clinic that opens in the morning,” Erfan Karim, Bellevue’s chief operating officer, told him. “We’ll help find you housing.”
Down the hallway, 59 more people were staying in the hospital’s south lobby, which is open to the public all year long but has become a homeless refuge this winter. Some were drinking cartons of milk and eating sandwiches that had been distributed by staff, while others slept.
All were seeking refuge from the cold. “Oh, my God, it’s terrible,” Welclen Figueroa, 57, said. “It turns the tips of your fingers numb.”
Adam Basnight said he had come to Bellevue because he had heard about the cots, but they were not large enough for a “king-size man.” Instead, he slept in the lobby. It is hard for him to face the cold in the mornings.
“When you look at the snow, it slows you down,” he said. “The cold is stressful because it creates this discomfort, but it’s manageable when you don’t think about it.”
Emma Goldberg is a Times reporter who writes about political subcultures and the way we live now.
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