At the time that the bottom fell out of the economy and veterans were returning from the Middle East bearing the emotional wounds of war and opioid drugs were becoming easy to cadge, a perfect storm blew into Connecticut: a maelstrom of conditions that left people homeless in such numbers that they couldn't be missed on Main Street.

Homelessness follows cycles, along with the jobless rate, but it also peaks after natural disasters and conflicts. Sometimes the home disappears; more often, the occupants can't stay. To have to sleep outside, to have nowhere but the ground or the floor to lie down, is a terrible woe.

Last week, the governor and the Connecticut Coalition to End Homelessness announced that they and the people they serve have gotten substantially closer to their goal. The chronically homeless, veterans without housing and homeless families are all down in numbers. Overall, the January Point-in-Time Count found the lowest levels of homelessness since the count began in 2007.

It's not quite what they anticipated in August when Housing Commissioner Evonne Klein predicted an end to chronic homelessness by the end of last year. But progress has been steady, and the goal of eliminating homelessness for military veterans has been virtually reached.

Credit goes rightly to the governor and his administration and the coalition. But this multi-pronged problem required both public and private efforts.  From the annual sweep of shelters and campsites on a cold January night to the one-on-one caring that goes on every day in hospitality centers, meal centers, public libraries and work placement classes, volunteers do much of the hard work.

It's easy to forget, after more than a decade of surging homelessness, that it wasn't always this way. When homeless, hungry people started hanging around downtown New London and Norwich, there was surprise. There was no plan. Some died for lack of shelter.

That's when the real heroes of this story recognized that fellow human beings were not a problem; rather, that they had a problem. With compassion and common sense such local lifesaving organizations as the Mystic Area Shelter and Hospitality (MASH); the Homeless Hospitality Center in New London and its original landlord, St. James Episcopal Church; St. Vincent de Paul Place in Norwich; and Covenant Shelter in New London took charge.

Backing them up were the Gemma E. Moran United Way/Labor Food Center and a host of community meals served daily, weekly and monthly around the region.

Together they made partners out of many of the people they served, providing the nudge and the support that gave homeless people the strength to come back from desperation.

Now it appears they may need the skills and systems that are working so well for adults to help young people. With the adoption of better methods of counting, the state census of homeless and "unstably housed" youth under the age of 25 comes in over 4,000. Some are sleeping on friends' couches or perhaps bouncing around to relatives, rather than being without any shelter.

It doesn't take a social worker to figure out that a young person needs a place to call home. The approach will need to take into account the big differences between a 24-year-old back from Afghanistan and a 17-year-old who left home. But for these young people to have a stable future, they need to know where they live.

And while the agencies who help the homeless are not addiction programs, they see drug use every day. They can play a key role in referring addicts to treatment and on the way to a stable lifestyle.

So there is more work to do, and there always will be. But how wonderful to be able to count so many victories over the misery of having nowhere to go. 

The Day editorial board meets with political, business and community leaders to formulate editorial viewpoints. It is composed of President and Publisher Timothy Dwyer, Executive Editor Izaskun E. Larraneta, Owen Poole, copy editor, and Lisa McGinley, retired deputy managing editor. The board operates independently from The Day newsroom.