Stephanie Klein-Davis | The Roanoke Times

Holly Woodson (from left), Lois Hopkins, Kay Cochran, Patsy Fleshman, Mary White and Gene Meador serve chef salads for lunch Thursday at RAM House on Campbell Avenue in downtown Roanoke. Robert Dudley, who frequents RAM House and the Samaritan Inn on Salem Avenue, said he "won't feel comfortable in this neighborhood anymore," now that upscale residential development is on the rise.

Seth Gitner | The Roanoke Times

Katrina Wickline gets a hug from Wayne Meadows at the Samaritan Inn in downtown Roanoke. Wickline received help at the day shelter when she was homeless. She has since had a child and returned to Samaritan this week to thank Meadows, the facility's director, for his help.

Stephanie Klein-Davis The Roanoke Times

People gather during breakfast this week outside the Samaritan Inn on Salem Avenue in downtown Roanoke.

Developers' plans for dozens of upscale condos and apartments on the west side of downtown Roanoke are good news for the city's economic future, but they worry Wayne Meadows, who runs the Samaritan Inn -- a soup kitchen and Christian mission located near many of the forthcoming residences.

"They're not going to want us here anymore. Our people don't dress well. Some don't smell too good," said Meadows, who has run the nonprofit ministry to the homeless for two decades. "When we came here no one expected luxury condos were going to be part of this area," said Meadows of what has long been a blighted stretch marked by vacant manufacturing buildings and empty warehouses.

Of course the prospect of buying such properties at relatively bargain prices for conversion into trendy lofts and living spaces attracts developers like Ed Walker. He paid $850,000 for the former Virginia Mills Cotton Products plant on Sixth Street Southwest, five blocks from the modest Samaritan Inn building at 543 Salem Ave. S.W. Two other missions are also in the area: Roanoke Area Ministries on Campbell Avenue and The Salvation Army Red Shield Lodge just a few blocks farther west on Salem Avenue.

Walker, who plans 108 condominiums in the Virginia Mills building, said he welcomes the continuing presence of the missions and doesn't see their hundreds of homeless clientele as an impediment to west side revitalization. "I feel we're sharing downtown. I'm happy to have them here."

But those who run the missions and their clients are wary. They're well aware that downtown Roanoke's tolerance for the homeless has shown limits. For example, the benches along the sidewalks of Campbell and Church avenues were moved in 2007 after city officials and businesses decided the wooden seating was too prone for use as de facto beds by people with nowhere else to sleep.

"If we're not even welcome on benches, how are we going to be treated when rich people in new homes look out their windows and see dozens of us lined up for a free breakfast?" asked Robert Dudley, 21, who has been homeless since February. He frequents Samaritan Inn for breakfast and the RAM House for lunch.

"I won't feel comfortable in this neighborhood anymore, not around people with lots of money and their dirty looks. I don't need that kind of judgment," Dudley said.

Still, the missions aren't in the way of the west side's residential growth, according to Roanoke City Manager Darlene Burcham. Responding to questions from The Roanoke Times, she said in an e-mail, "Development has not, in my opinion, had a detrimental effect on the homeless or the facilities that serve the homeless. Therefore, I do not anticipate that future development will impact the homeless any more than any other aspect of our community."

So far, the homeless haven't been a drag on sales of new residences in the western revival. Since the trend picked up steam last year with developments such as the Campbell Garage Lofts at 319 Campbell Ave., vagrants are "more of a perceived problem than a real one," said Jason Fountain, a real estate agent at Waldvogel Commercial Properties who sold several units at Campbell Garage Lofts. All 15 units were purchased in the project's debut.

When the lofts were being built, Fountain said, some doubters worried that the nearby city jail would detract from the location's desirability: "Especially during visiting hours, there are some colorful people walking around. The missions are sort of that category -- just part of the urban scene," he said.

Bobbi Ison, who bought a unit in Campbell Garage Lofts more than a year ago, said she and her husband, Ken, accept the homeless with one proviso: "We don't support panhandling at all. We say, 'Don't ask us for money or we'll call the police.' "

Yet the Isons, who lived in Southwest Roanoke County before Ken, a career dentist, retired, have been volunteering at the Samaritan Inn for 10 years. "We love being able to help there. It's part of why we wanted to be downtown."

One new business that caters to builders and homeowners has found the missions to be good neighbors. In fact, Taz McDole welcomed dozens of homeless people to the October opening of Custom Design Cabinets on Salem Avenue, where he's the manager. Located just a block from the Samaritan Inn, McDole celebrated the store's first day by offering hot dogs, sodas and ice cream. About 50 homeless people took him up on the free food.

"We knew people from the Samaritan were going to be around, so we ordered extra food. Everyone was concerned they were going to linger, but they got their food and went on their way," McDole said.

And his good relations with the homeless have continued. "We've never had any trouble with them. They get a bad rap. They're down on their luck, but they don't sleep outside near us, or panhandle. They respect you as a business owner, and they will respect homeowners too," McDole said.

Anyone unwilling to accept the missions' clients shouldn't come to the west end, said Meadows, who runs the Samaritan Inn with his wife, Georgia. They live in the building, serving breakfast and lunch to as many as 150 people a day and holding noon worship services. "If you can't deal with the homeless, don't move to town. They're here, that's a fact of life," he said. "These are people that no longer had a place in society who now gather in a neighborhood that had been mostly forgotten."

One way for the homeless to avoid offending their well-off west-end neighbors is to shun the stereotype of street people, said Neola Mays, program director of The Salvation Army Red Shield Lodge, a transient overnight shelter in which all but two of its 62 beds are currently occupied. "Our guys either work or are looking for jobs during the day. I tell them, 'When you go out, leave your backpack and stuff here. There's a certain way to carry yourself.' "

So she inspects them for tucked-in shirttails and shaves. "The way you look doesn't have to advertise that you're homeless," she said.

Some sprucing up of the mission buildings might help them fit into the upwardly mobile west end too, said Bev Fitzpatrick, a city councilman who's somewhat haunted by his remark at meeting on homeless issues in 2007 that they "come here because we're too daggone nice." Fitzpatrick, whose term on the council ends Monday, now asserts his comment doesn't mean he wants to cut services to the homeless.

In fact, he said in an interview earlier this week that downtown is "everyone's neighborhood" and suggested that perhaps funding sources can be found to rehabilitate the exteriors of the RAM House and Samaritan Inn. "As the west end grows upscale, you don't want a mission to look like a mission."

Fitzpatrick, a former banker and now executive director of the Virginia Museum of Transportation, offered an idea to improve The Salvation Army's relatively nice red brick edifice: "Maybe just some window treatments to conform to the new architectural standards around there."