Latest news with #AbundantLifeChurch
Yahoo
22-05-2025
- General
- Yahoo
A church called its vision for housing a ‘Beacon of Hope.' The mayor had concerns.
Central City is surrounded by hundreds of square miles of gently rolling land, May 14, 2025. (Kentucky Lantern photo by Austin Anthony) This is the third in a series about homelessness in Western Kentucky. CENTRAL CITY — Pastor Jennifer Banks and other leaders of Abundant Life Church were not sure what to expect when the mayor of this Western Kentucky town called a meeting to talk about their plans for helping people who are experiencing homelessness. They had briefed the mayor and a few city officials once before. This time they were surprised to see downtown business owners and other city officials also gathered in the room. They soon heard that the church's plan — they had dubbed it the 'Beacon of Hope' — was setting off alarms. They were warned that their outreach to locals in need would attract — was already attracting — people from other places, raising fears that the community's already short supply of housing and services would be strained even further. The specter was raised of Austin, Texas, where voters banned panhandling and camping in public places in response to burgeoning encampments. 'What will happen to a city that takes in all of this stuff — it's destroyed,' said Central City Mayor Tony Armour. 'We're short on homes for people that live here, but the more we reach out for people to come in here, the shorter we're going to be for homes.' Zachary Banks provided the Lantern with an audio recording of the meeting. Mayor Armour did not respond to requests seeking an interview about the December gathering. The Lantern sent emails requesting an interview, left messages by phone and in person at city hall. During the meeting, Armour said constituents were complaining about seeing homeless people around the church and about water running off from its mobile shower. 'We've got major people upset here in the city about the church.' Abundant Life had gained a reputation as a place people could come for a meal and other resources. The church had allowed people to sleep in its parking lot when they had nowhere else to go. The Felix Martin Foundation, a local nonprofit, provided a grant to install a mobile shower outside the church. At one point during the meeting, the mayor said to Jennifer Banks, 'You're not seeing the big picture. You're seeing the kindness of your heart, and I appreciate that. I love you for that. But you know what? We're not willing to destroy our community.' 'We're not either, sir,' Banks responded. 'The church was supposed to take care of widows. The church was supposed to take care of orphans. We're supposed to feed. We're supposed to clothe, and at the end of the day, Abundant Life Church-Central City is just trying to be that.' The meeting ended with tentative plans to meet again and Armour saying there were different visions on 'how to move forward and what to do.' The mayor and Abundant Life Church leaders haven't had any meetings since, and the 'Beacon of Hope' plan to buy a local motel and transform it into something more is still in the talking stages. The motel is already a place where people without shelter stay, sometimes paid for by a local church or members of a loose coalition of community members trying to help people experiencing homelessness or unstable housing. The 'Beacon of Hope' idea for the motel: Turn the rooms into efficiency apartments, where tenants could pay rent to build up a financial record, eventually moving on to other housing. Local agencies could come in and provide pop-up services — dental clinics, mental health care — and the church would offer Bible studies. When asked if the idea would be a form of transitional housing, Jennifer Banks said 'what is in our heart fits in no category that already exists. 'If services are offered in one location, even if it's once a month, even if it's once every six months — if it's accessible to you zero times a year, but now it is twice a year, that can change the whole dynamic of everything,' she said. Jennifer Banks said the church is still in conversations with the owner of the Central Inn about a possible purchase. Meanwhile, disagreements over how to help have frayed the informal coalition seeking solutions. Some arguments are over how to help people who are using drugs. The debates also center on numbers: How many people are experiencing homelessness in Muhlenberg County? Does that number justify something like an emergency shelter? AsheLynn Andrews, operator of a tattoo shop in Central City, worked closely with Gwen Clements and Abundant Life Church until they split over who and how to help. In an interview in October, Andrews argued there is no need for a shelter — something she thinks would attract homeless people from other places — because there are only a handful of homeless people in Central City. Clements, on the other hand, says she knows of dozens of people across Muhlenberg County who are homeless at least art of the time. Numbers are fluid, she said, changing depending on the time of year, weather and individual personal circumstances. The Point in Time Count — an annual, federally-coordinated count of the number of people experiencing homelessness across the country on one day of the year — counted just one person as unsheltered in Muhlenberg County in 2024. Advocates for the unhoused and even federal officials acknowledge the count is an underestimate because unsheltered people can be hard to find, the number of volunteers surveying can vary from community to community, the timing of the count in January when it's cold means fewer people are outside, and the count is only a snapshot of one day. Another count by Kentucky school districts that seeks to capture the number of students in unsafe and unstable housing situations reported 34 students, all of them in kindergarten or first grade, in that category in Muhlenberg County during the 2023-24 school year. Muhlenberg County spans hundreds of square miles of rolling hills, making it hard sometimes to find people who are known to be without shelter. Finding them becomes urgent when the weather turns dangerous. In January, the loose coalition sprang into action when bitterly cold air swept across the state, plunging temperatures into the deadly range. Clements took to Facebook, asking her neighbors for donations to put unhoused people into motel rooms at the Central Inn and another hotel. Debra Gorham, a local food pantry director, met Clements at Wendy's, and handed her hundreds of dollars Gorham had gathered for the effort. Clements knew one of the people she had to find was someone she had known years before he started living outside, a man well known for walking the streets of Central City. 'Sometimes it's difficult if you're looking for him, it's difficult to find him because you don't know where he's at, who he's with, where he's staying from day to day,' Clements said. She had to find John Paul Shanks. Next in the Lantern's series: The personal struggles faced by John Paul Shanks and the struggles to find a way to help him. Introduction Part 1: Homeless often means 'invisible,' but not to everyone in this small Kentucky town Part 2: After living outdoors for weeks, she got a place to sleep, a shower — and a job SUPPORT: YOU MAKE OUR WORK POSSIBLE
Yahoo
22-05-2025
- General
- Yahoo
A church called its vision for housing a ‘Beacon of Hope.' The mayor had concerns.
Central City is surrounded by hundreds of square miles of gently rolling land, May 14, 2025. (Kentucky Lantern photo by Austin Anthony) This is the third in a series about homelessness in Western Kentucky. CENTRAL CITY — Pastor Jennifer Banks and other leaders of Abundant Life Church were not sure what to expect when the mayor of this Western Kentucky town called a meeting to talk about their plans for helping people who are experiencing homelessness. They had briefed the mayor and a few city officials once before. This time they were surprised to see downtown business owners and other city officials also gathered in the room. They soon heard that the church's plan — they had dubbed it the 'Beacon of Hope' — was setting off alarms. They were warned that their outreach to locals in need would attract — was already attracting — people from other places, raising fears that the community's already short supply of housing and services would be strained even further. The specter was raised of Austin, Texas, where voters banned panhandling and camping in public places in response to burgeoning encampments. 'What will happen to a city that takes in all of this stuff — it's destroyed,' said Central City Mayor Tony Armour. 'We're short on homes for people that live here, but the more we reach out for people to come in here, the shorter we're going to be for homes.' Zachary Banks provided the Lantern with an audio recording of the meeting. Mayor Armour did not respond to requests seeking an interview about the December gathering. The Lantern sent emails requesting an interview, left messages by phone and in person at city hall. During the meeting, Armour said constituents were complaining about seeing homeless people around the church and about water running off from its mobile shower. 'We've got major people upset here in the city about the church.' Abundant Life had gained a reputation as a place people could come for a meal and other resources. The church had allowed people to sleep in its parking lot when they had nowhere else to go. The Felix Martin Foundation, a local nonprofit, provided a grant to install a mobile shower outside the church. At one point during the meeting, the mayor said to Jennifer Banks, 'You're not seeing the big picture. You're seeing the kindness of your heart, and I appreciate that. I love you for that. But you know what? We're not willing to destroy our community.' 'We're not either, sir,' Banks responded. 'The church was supposed to take care of widows. The church was supposed to take care of orphans. We're supposed to feed. We're supposed to clothe, and at the end of the day, Abundant Life Church-Central City is just trying to be that.' The meeting ended with tentative plans to meet again and Armour saying there were different visions on 'how to move forward and what to do.' The mayor and Abundant Life Church leaders haven't had any meetings since, and the 'Beacon of Hope' plan to buy a local motel and transform it into something more is still in the talking stages. The motel is already a place where people without shelter stay, sometimes paid for by a local church or members of a loose coalition of community members trying to help people experiencing homelessness or unstable housing. The 'Beacon of Hope' idea for the motel: Turn the rooms into efficiency apartments, where tenants could pay rent to build up a financial record, eventually moving on to other housing. Local agencies could come in and provide pop-up services — dental clinics, mental health care — and the church would offer Bible studies. When asked if the idea would be a form of transitional housing, Jennifer Banks said 'what is in our heart fits in no category that already exists. 'If services are offered in one location, even if it's once a month, even if it's once every six months — if it's accessible to you zero times a year, but now it is twice a year, that can change the whole dynamic of everything,' she said. Jennifer Banks said the church is still in conversations with the owner of the Central Inn about a possible purchase. Meanwhile, disagreements over how to help have frayed the informal coalition seeking solutions. Some arguments are over how to help people who are using drugs. The debates also center on numbers: How many people are experiencing homelessness in Muhlenberg County? Does that number justify something like an emergency shelter? AsheLynn Andrews, operator of a tattoo shop in Central City, worked closely with Gwen Clements and Abundant Life Church until they split over who and how to help. In an interview in October, Andrews argued there is no need for a shelter — something she thinks would attract homeless people from other places — because there are only a handful of homeless people in Central City. Clements, on the other hand, says she knows of dozens of people across Muhlenberg County who are homeless at least art of the time. Numbers are fluid, she said, changing depending on the time of year, weather and individual personal circumstances. The Point in Time Count — an annual, federally-coordinated count of the number of people experiencing homelessness across the country on one day of the year — counted just one person as unsheltered in Muhlenberg County in 2024. Advocates for the unhoused and even federal officials acknowledge the count is an underestimate because unsheltered people can be hard to find, the number of volunteers surveying can vary from community to community, the timing of the count in January when it's cold means fewer people are outside, and the count is only a snapshot of one day. Another count by Kentucky school districts that seeks to capture the number of students in unsafe and unstable housing situations reported 34 students, all of them in kindergarten or first grade, in that category in Muhlenberg County during the 2023-24 school year. Muhlenberg County spans hundreds of square miles of rolling hills, making it hard sometimes to find people who are known to be without shelter. Finding them becomes urgent when the weather turns dangerous. In January, the loose coalition sprang into action when bitterly cold air swept across the state, plunging temperatures into the deadly range. Clements took to Facebook, asking her neighbors for donations to put unhoused people into motel rooms at the Central Inn and another hotel. Debra Gorham, a local food pantry director, met Clements at Wendy's, and handed her hundreds of dollars Gorham had gathered for the effort. Clements knew one of the people she had to find was someone she had known years before he started living outside, a man well known for walking the streets of Central City. 'Sometimes it's difficult if you're looking for him, it's difficult to find him because you don't know where he's at, who he's with, where he's staying from day to day,' Clements said. She had to find John Paul Shanks. Next in the Lantern's series: The personal struggles faced by John Paul Shanks and the struggles to find a way to help him. Introduction Part 1: Homeless often means 'invisible,' but not to everyone in this small Kentucky town Part 2: After living outdoors for weeks, she got a place to sleep, a shower — and a job SUPPORT: YOU MAKE OUR WORK POSSIBLE
Yahoo
21-05-2025
- Yahoo
After living outdoors for weeks, she got a place to sleep, a shower — and a job
Courtney Phillips, 32, quickly landed a job at a nursing home after Abundant Life Church gave her shelter. (Kentucky Lantern photo by Austin Anthony) This story is the second of four parts in a series about homelessness in Western Kentucky. CENTRAL CITY — When Courtney Phillips left her friend's home in Muhlenberg County on Halloween last year, she took with her what she could fit into a backpack along with a leash for her dog Joker. The two of them walked roughly four miles to the county courthouse in Greenville. The 32-year-old had been fired from her job at a nursing home in Madisonville, she said, because she didn't have reliable transportation or a phone to let her employer know when she lacked a ride. She had been raised to be independent and take care of herself but had few options. A tornado in 2021 whose path stretched for over a hundred miles had wrecked her late father's home in Bremen and left it uninhabitable. A case manager she had worked with saw her on the side of the road, stopped and drove her to a church she had been attending for a couple of months. She said others with nowhere to go had slept in the parking lot of Abundant Life Church in Central City without fear of running into law enforcement. Phillips found a corner and laid down two quilts and her sleeping bag and put her comforter on top. Her backpack served as a pillow and Joker as a source of warmth. She slept there for weeks, angry and hurt that circumstances had dropped her on cold concrete. 'If I'm out of sight, I'm out of mind,' Phillips told the Lantern. 'I'm used to making things happen, and nothing was happening.' As the nights grew colder, Jennifer Banks, one of the church's pastors, watched Phillips and others sleeping outside through the church's cameras. A van often parked there overnight. Police in late September had brought wheelchair-bound Mallie Luken to the parking lot and left her to sleep the night. Banks encouraged Phillips to stay in sight of the cameras so she could watch her for her safety. After Thanksgiving, when overnight temperatures dropped into the teens, Jennifer's husband Zachary brought blankets and hand warmers for Phillips and Joker, planning to place a small heater next to them. Phillips was unaware at the time, but Zachary saw that her lips were blue. 'We're going to the church and letting her in. She'll freeze to death,' Jennifer Banks recalls thinking. Her church hadn't considered using their building as a shelter at that point. Only four days after Phillips began staying at the church she landed a job at another nursing home, the pastor said. She's still staying in a room at the church, walking and bicycling to work. 'All she needed to do is be able to sleep at night and get a shower, and she got a job,' Jennifer Banks said. Phillips is grateful for the help she has received from the Bankses and others. As for some in the local community, she says, 'They try to sweep us under the rug like we don't exist.' Zachary Banks and Jennifer Banks each had their own personal struggles before moving their family to Muhlenberg County in late 2023. The pastor of their 'mother church' in Hardin County, also called Abundant Life, had called the couple to lead the new church in Central City. They bought a building that had been home to a Presbyterian congregation. Zachary Banks had been in and out of prison while struggling with addiction, and Jennifer Banks had dealt with alcoholism. How their Christian faith helped them overcome those challenges informed how they wanted to build their new church community. 'If I can share my experience, if I can share my testimony with people like, 'Listen, you don't want to sit in a prison room for seven years,'' Zachary Banks said earlier this year. 'I treat the people the way that I wish that somebody would have treated me.' The two of them, with members of the previous congregation coming along, started talking about their vision and going out into the community, hosting picnics and weekly meals at the church and delivering food. One weekend they helped clean up trash at a local park. They saw people experiencing homelessness, some dealing with substance abuse, and invited them to come to church for food. The church sought and received a grant from the Felix Martin Foundation, which funds initiatives in the county, to build a mobile shower outside the church. The Bankses and their church aren't the only ones who know people experiencing homelessness and want to do more. Debra Gorham, the director of the Hope2All food pantry in Drakesboro in southern Muhlenberg County, distributes boxes of food to hundreds of families who line up in cars at her pantry. Some have unstable housing situations or live outside. Every Kentucky county is required to have an animal shelter, Gorham told the Lantern in April. But there is no such requirement for people. 'Something about that just doesn't sit very well with me,' Gorham said. Kelsey Rolley, a community services coordinator with the agency Pennyrile Allied Community Services, or PACS, in Greenville, fields requests for aid from people dealing with housing, utility bill assistance and more, relying on federal Community Services Block Grant funds to meet those needs. But the funding can run out quickly as people struggle to afford rents of $1,000 a month or more, she said, for houses that still need repairs or are not up to code. People are 'having to take what they can get.' Emergency shelters in other nearby counties face high demand. The people she helps, whether they have a disability or other issues, often need recurring help. 'I don't think it would ever be enough for just PACS alone to be able to carry the weight of the burden that we are seeing down here, whether it be the homeless, whether it be just resources in general — everybody's having to spread them out thin, because the demand is so high,' Rolley said earlier this year. 'If we don't have enough resources as a community to carry our own — if we can't help our own, how are we supposed to grow as a population?' Gwen Clements, a Central City woman, started a Facebook group focused on homelessness and has worked with the Bankses, Rolley and others as a part of a loose coalition of the caring. In the summer 2024, law enforcement officers serving a warrant came to a large encampment. Later, at the property owner's request, police cleared the encampment, scattering the roughly dozen people who had been living there, some of whom Clements considers friends. Clements took to Facebook angry at how the campers had been treated. 'They've been living there for many months without ANY ISSUES!! The encampment is well hidden from public eye, so it's not an eyesore for the city,' she wrote on Facebook in June 2024. 'WHERE ARE THEY SUPPOSE TO GO??? Some of them work in town at local restaurants and walk to work…JUST WHAT ARE THEY SUPPOSE TO DO??' She threatened to let the displaced campers pitch tents in her front yard 'with a huge sign explaining why they are there' for people to see on their way to the dedication of statues of local musical heroes The Everly Brothers and John Prine in downtown Central City. She said a Central City police officer came to her house shortly after her Facebook post to advise her against that, saying a city ordinance prohibited pitching tents in one's yard. With Clements' help, some who had lived in the encampment rented rooms at the Central Inn, a motel at 300 East Everly Brothers Blvd. Clements' Facebook group members sometimes send her money to put up people at the Central Inn to keep them out of dangerous cold. Clements wants to do more. In her vision the county would have a shelter, community kitchen and space for people experiencing homelessness. The Central Inn — and its possibilities — came into focus as a possible solution as support began to gather around an idea floated by Abundant Life Church: Buy the Central Inn and turn it into apartments where people without housing can stay, pay rent and build financial stability and a credit history, before moving on to another rental elsewhere in town. Other services would be provided by local agencies to help those dealing with mental illness and other issues. The church posted on Facebook about the proposal and Clements, a supporter of the idea, shared the post with her Facebook group. The church called it the 'Beacon of Hope.' Next in the Lantern's series: In a meeting with local officials and downtown business owners, the 'Beacon of Hope' faces pushback. SUBSCRIBE: GET THE MORNING HEADLINES DELIVERED TO YOUR INBOX
Yahoo
20-05-2025
- Yahoo
Homeless often means ‘invisible,' but not to everyone in this small Kentucky town
Mallie Luken, 70, remembers thinking of her parents as she tried to sleep outdoors in the parking lot of Abundant Life Church in Central City. She sat for a photo in her home in Greenville on April 27, 2025. (Kentucky Lantern photo by Austin Anthony) This story is the first of a series. CENTRAL CITY — Pastor Jennifer Banks was still a relative newcomer to this Western Kentucky town on the night in September when she watched through a security camera as a police officer brought a woman in a wheelchair to the church and 'dumped her in our parking lot.' Banks' husband, Zachary, rushed to the church in time to talk to the officer. 'He's like, 'Man, I'm sorry. We didn't have anywhere for her to go. We knew that y'all wouldn't trespass her here, and we didn't want to see her go to jail,' Zachary Banks recalls. Mallie Luken, 70, a widow, was down to her last few dollars. She had asked her former pastor to drive her from the nearby county where she was living to Muhlenberg County because she remembered an old ad for the Central Inn, a motel in Central City, and thought she could afford a night there. Jennifer Banks had met Mallie Luken the day before after getting a call from police about a 'homeless woman' outside Arby's. The officer told the pastor the woman had trespassed on multiple properties and asked if she could do something. Banks gathered a plate of food and headed to Arby's. She found Luken sitting outside in a wheelchair next to her dog Blaze. They prayed together. At that time, Banks had yet to consider using the Abundant Life Church as a shelter. The congregation was barely a year old and still buying the building from the Central City government. 'I had to leave her there, because I didn't have anywhere for her to go. And then the next day was when they dumped her in our parking lot,' Jennifer Banks said. Banks' community was ill-prepared to respond to that kind of housing emergency. That realization has served as a catalyst for the Bankses and others in Muhlenberg County who want to fill gaps they see in services and housing. They have met resistance and support, as the Lantern will report over the next few days. But on that night eight months ago, all Zachary Banks could do was take Luken a blanket. She stayed there on the pavement under a stainless steel table, an experience made even worse because she was separated from Blaze after he bolted from an earlier thunder clap. As storms rolled through Luken thought of her parents. 'To know that that's your child laying under a stainless steel table,' Luken said. 'I could have gotten electrocuted.' Looking back recently, she said, 'I just didn't care if I woke up in the morning,' mentioning how worried she was about Blaze. Luken thinks her search for the dog had prompted more calls to police about trespassing. Seeing Luken in the parking lot, Zachary Banks thought of his mother. 'It just broke my heart to see her just dumped out there and for us to not be able to have any resources to be able to do anything.' An officer wrote in an email to church leaders that Luken was dropped off at the church at her request and that the local police department 'currently does not have any type of resources to assist her.' The officer in his email asked the church for assistance to make sure Luken didn't get into further legal trouble. Zachary Banks said he urged the officer to 'stand up' for the church before the Central City city council and for the work the church was doing to help people experiencing homelessness. The officer told Zachary Banks he would try. Luken soon found shelter thanks to help from Gwen Clements. Using money given by a concerned neighbor of the church, Clements checked Luken into the Central Inn. Within about a week, calling around to her connections, Clements found Luken an apartment at the public housing authority in Greenville, the Muhlenberg County seat. She contacted Luken's daughter in North Carolina who wasn't aware of her situation and learned the mother and daughter have a strained relationship. Luken was united with Blaze, and they are still together. In a rural county with few resources for people without shelter, Clements is part of a loose coalition of people who see a growing need to help those experiencing homelessness. Clements grew up in Muhlenberg County and believes it is not unlike other rural communities suffering a shortage of housing. Earlier in 2024, Clements had started a Facebook group to advocate for more resources to help people struggling to secure a safe place to live. Clements, who moved back to Central City in the early 2000s, had a vision for what she wanted for the county: a community space that could serve as a warming center, shelter and kitchen, largely inspired by efforts of a nonprofit in Somerset. 'In this county, if they would just open up more affordable housing. Most of the problems would be eliminated,' Clements said. 'If we had public transportation for people to get the documents they need — nobody wants to take these people so that they can get the hand up and get on with their lives just by having a few pieces of paper in hand.' Clements says her own experiences make her want to help. 'I feel for these people. I've been in their situation, not knowing where I was gonna go next,' Clements told the Lantern earlier this year. 'I want to be the person I needed during my dark times. I want to give hope to those who feel hopeless, show them someone cares about their needs.' 'Sometimes it's draining. Sometimes I leave my house at seven o'clock in the morning and don't come back till it's dark,' Clements said. 'If you're making a commitment, you gotta follow that commitment through till you're done.' 'While homelessness is often considered an urban issue, the number of unsheltered homeless individuals has rapidly risen outside of Lexington and Louisville, going from six hundred fifty (650) in 2019 to more than one thousand (1,000) in 2024. 'While homelessness has many causes, the Deputy Executive Director of Housing Programs for the Kentucky Housing Corporation stated that the lack of housing was a contributing factor, likening the housing situation to a game of musical chairs where certain people would simply be left out due to the lack of supply. 'Those already vulnerable to homelessness, including seniors, people with disabilities, and those with low income, could be pushed into homelessness as a result of the housing shortage and rising home prices and rents.' — Final Report of the Kentucky Housing Task Force, Nov. 12, 2024 She helps people fill out birth certificate requests so they can get an identification card. Her Facebook group has become a clearinghouse connecting people who say they need help to those who want to provide it. She often fields several messages a day asking for food, clothing or enough money to stay at a local motel. Sometimes people she helps are dealing with unstable housing situations, getting close to the precipice of living without shelter. Some who need help grapple with addiction and other mental health issues. Some work or struggle to find work, having limited or no transportation to get them to a job. The county has a limited supply of affordable rentals amid a worsening housing shortage that is common across rural Kentucky. 'Housing as a whole is very hard to come by, whether it's affordable, whether it's appropriate, whether it's up to code, whether or not they get in there. I mean, it's just hard all the way around,' said Kelsey Rolley, a services coordinator at Pennyrile Allied Community Services in Greenville. 'It's that much harder when you're in a position like mine, where people come to you for help and then you don't have any resources to refer them to, or you don't have the means to be able to help immediately at that moment.' Muhlenberg County, once bolstered by coal mining and famous for producing musicians, has an aging and declining population similar to other rural communities. Poverty rates are higher than the national and state averages, according to the U.S. Census. Central City has a population of a little more than 6,000 residents. About 1 in 4 of them live in poverty. Michael Howard, the CEO of the regional ARCH Community Health Coalition in Western Kentucky, said finding a way forward beyond coal mining has been difficult and the housing shortage makes fostering new industries and jobs even more challenging. But, he said, the vast majority in Muhlenberg County would reply 'No' when asked if homelessness is a local problem. 'They don't realize that they're already there. You know, they're invisible,' Howard said. They're not invisible to everyone, though. Next in the Lantern's series: Jennifer and Zachary Banks and Abundant Life Church have a plan, backed by others in the loose coalition.
