Every Wednesday at 8 a.m. at a lime green building in the heart of downtown Fort Lauderdale, around fifty to sixty people line up outside while police cars block off the street at either end.
Out front, a bus with showers and laundry services and a mobile doctor's office provided by Baptist Health idle noisily as a barber sets up shop to offer free haircuts. This is Broward County's most unique courtroom: Fort Lauderdale Community Court.
The court began in 2019, a joint venture between the City of Fort Lauderdale and the 17th Judicial Circuit.
It began as a jail diversion program for unhoused individuals charged with low-level nonviolent offenses like aggressive panhandling or sleeping in public. Those offenders have their charges dismissed if they complete ten hours of community service, and they are offered a chance to connect with service providers who could assist them with things like housing or addiction treatment.
But that line outside is not here to have their cases heard. In fact, the judge will not arrive for another three hours. Rather, they're here because the court recognized the unique opportunity. By centralizing different service providers under one roof, they could drastically improve the quality and efficiency of their services.
Shanna Rumley, a recovery navigator and a peer specialist with South Florida Wellness Network, is one of the many service providers whose tables line the interior of the building.
" The service providers get to come to one place and not have to worry about people getting lost or not able to make their appointments or, just not making it at all. Some people that are unhoused and on the street, sometimes they don't even know what day it is," she said.
The proximity also helps service providers network with each other. According to Chris Cooper, Fort Lauderdale assistant city manager, that's one of the reasons that the City decided to offer those services to anyone who may need them, not just those cited for an offense.
" The main priority may be housing, but to get housing they need to find out what benefits they may have. So there needs to be somebody that can help them find out if they're eligible for social security or disability benefit or a veteran's benefit." he said, " So it all works together in a way that helps folks get from one end of the spectrum to the other."
READ MORE: Florida's bill banning public sleeping and camping: explained
Rumley says that coordination is even more valuable since HB 1365 went into effect in January. The bill bans people from camping overnight in public spaces. The City of Fort Lauderdale went a step further and banned camping 24/7.
"When I know to engage somebody on, like, First and Broward, and then they have to keep moving because the police keep moving them, then housing is almost impossible to get for them. They're lost in the shuffle and then they get lost on their rotation and they get put to the back of the line," she said.
'I need a hand up, not a handout'
The doors of the courtroom open at 9 a.m. Those waiting outside file in and get a number. Many stop at the Feeding South Florida table to get a free hot meal. Once their number is called, they are seen by an intake specialist who assesses their needs before connecting them with a service provider who can help them.
That includes people like Deborah Lipski. In December of 2023, she fell down the stairs at her apartment. She was so severely injured that she now has a colostomy bag and her right leg was amputated below the knee.
" I was completely normal for 67 years of my life. Just like you got up this morning to go to work and everything. And then you walk out the door and your life changes right then and there. Just like that. In the hospital for six months, rehab for three months. And I got let out because my insurance ran out," she said.
She lost her apartment while recovering and she's lived in her car for the last year. Despite receiving social security payments and being employed, she's been unable to find a place to live since the accident.
"I haven't had a shower in five months. It's been washing up in the gas station bathroom. You know how disgusting that is? I'm simple to help. I need a hand up, not a handout," she said.
Fort Lauderdale Police Homeless Outreach Officer Scott Hagemann says his favorite success story is a man named Matthew. He was sleeping behind the Fort Lauderdale Police internal affairs office. Hagemann says he made the first of more than a dozen contacts with Matthew.
" He came to community court, got a shave, got a shower, and he came and went for about a year. He was a drug addict, so I wanted to get him into treatment," Hagemann said.
"In here, I want to let everybody know this is a court of no judgment. I'm here to figure out what I can do to help you.”
During that year, Hagemann says that Matthew was washing windows to pay for his addiction.
" A year later, he came into community court and said, 'Hey, I'm ready to get help.' It took so long to get to this point, and I didn't want to lose this opportunity."
So Hagemann helped Matthew get connected to a drug treatment center, which sent him to Indiana. After going through that program, Matthew bought professional window washing equipment and opened his own business.
Participants, not defendants
At 11a.m., court begins. Judge Florence Taylor Barner, known as Judge Flo, takes her seat at a foldable table with her laptop. In front of her is a single chair where participants — they're not referred to as defendants in community court — are seated.
" They get handed a citation for, sleeping in public, drinking in public, disorderly, whatever it might be. We will bring them in. They get the evaluations, they have to do community service, and at the end, their case is dismissed," said Barner.
The courtroom is unconventional, but so is the way Judge Barner conducts her courtroom. Her role isn't to dispense punishments — rather she's there to make sure participants engage with the program.
She actively encourages cheering for those who have attained housing or job interviews, and frequently reassures those seated in front of her, saying "I got you."
" That's important. Because when people walk in here, they're terrified, you know? They don't know what services are available. They might even have a criminal case, and they're afraid. But in here, I want to let everybody know this is a court of no judgment. I'm here to figure out what I can do to help you," she said.
Judge Barner will hear as few as five cases per day, but more than 100 people routinely show up to receive services.
" It's the only court of its kind that you don't have to be charged with a criminal offense to walk in off the street and say, 'I need help,'" Barner said.
Copyright 2025 WLRN Public Media