In the span of just three days, one severely mentally ill homeless woman sparked call after call to Portsmouth police—each time reported as a threat, each time sent on her way. It wasn’t until she allegedly broke into a camper and stole from inside that she was finally taken into custody. But it didn’t last. A judge gave her a suspended fine and released her right back onto the streets.
And she’s not alone.
This woman, well-known to local law enforcement, was first spotted Thursday morning near the Shawnee Boat Club, wandering by the break wall and talking to herself. By 7:30 p.m., she was back—this time described as “tweaked out of her head.” With Portsmouth officers busy, Shawnee State University Police checked in and decided she was simply acting “like her normal self.” She was left to wander again.
Just ninety minutes later, 9 p.m., came another call: she was confused, talking to herself on 2nd Street. Officers recognized the signs—same mental health struggles, same woman—and left her there.
By 10 p.m., she’d made it to Daehler Mortuary, rambling that she could kill someone “if she wanted to.” Officers found no drugs or alcohol in her system—just the same untreated illness. Again, they let her go.
Twenty-four hours later, another disturbance. This time at the Deadbolt Escape Rooms on Jefferson Street, where she was reportedly yelling and throwing things at employees. Officers spoke to her and told her to move along.
Then came Saturday. Officers were called to a campground on River Road where the woman was accused of breaking into a camper and stealing multiple items. The victim later spotted her dancing in the street near the floodwall murals. Only then was she taken into custody.
She was back on the street within days.
This isn’t her first brush with the system. In just the past two years:
- She’s been arrested for smashing windows with a bat, stealing a truck, and screaming in the streets.
- She’s been barred from rehab centers and counseling clinics—turned away even when desperate for help.
- She’s wandered into yards and homes, sparking panic not through violence, but sheer unpredictability.
- She’s even been arrested for showing up at a counseling center begging for help—help they could no longer offer.
One exhausted resident, after finding her on his porch yet again, warned police: “Next time, I won’t call you. I’ll handle it myself.” Officers reminded him—and their body cameras—that vigilante justice isn’t the answer.
But for many in Portsmouth, the question remains: What is the answer?
This woman isn’t the only one falling through the cracks. Over the same weekend, police fielded complaints about another mentally ill homeless woman, this one accused of repeatedly trespassing at a local rehab facility. Staff said she was caught on camera writing on windows, rearranging porch furniture, and cutting her hair—then leaving the strands in their mailbox. She’s already been convicted of disorderly conduct and assault this year. And like the other woman, she, too, is still out there.
Portsmouth’s streets have become an open-air holding cell for the mentally ill. With rehab centers full or turning them away, jail cells reserved for crimes, and few long-term solutions in place, these troubled individuals exist in a limbo—bouncing from call to call, location to location, waiting until they do something bad enough to be arrested… and then let go again.
Until next time.