Deadline looms for millions of unemployed Floridians

When President Barack Obama addresses Congress this week about jobs, he'll have Ellen Turner's attention.

The New Port Richey resident lost her job as a graphic designer in December 2008. When her unemployment benefits ran out in mid-2010, Turner joined the ranks of a club no one wants to belong to: the 99ers.

Taking their name from the 99-week limit on state and federal unemployment benefits, 99ers made up about 14 percent of the 14.4 million people who were jobless at the end of July, the most recent month for which figures are available, according to the federal Bureau of Labor Statistics.

The recession may have officially ended last year, but for Turner and millions of others the dark economic cloud has yet to lift. They rely on unemployment checks, food stamps, Medicaid and other government programs -- programs that are being cut or retooled by state and national leaders.

This summer's debt-ceiling deal between Obama and congressional Republicans failed to extend unemployment benefits beyond the end of this year. Come January, millions more people in Florida and beyond could see their benefits dry up, a change that will take billions of dollars out of local economies.

The ripple effect will mean less spending at grocery stores and gas stations and more people in line at food pantries and soup kitchens, experts say.

"With the decline of that money, we'll be worse off," said Patrick Mason, a labor economist at Florida State University.

Ninety-niners have always been around. For most of the last four decades, they averaged about 3 percent of the unemployed.

Last year, 99ers accounted for 9 percent of the unemployed, but that number jumped to 14 percent in the first half of this year, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics.

"There are not enough jobs out there," said Gregg Rosen, president of the American 99ers Union, a nonprofit group trying to raise the profile of the country's long-term unemployed.

Rosen, 43, lost his marketing job in 2008. Frustrated by the lack of help for out-of-work people, Rosen founded his group as an umbrella to unite the mix of small 99ers groups that have sprung up in recent years. He also has ties to suicide-prevention groups – a sad but necessary relationship, he said.

"There's a lot of shame attached to [unemployment]," Rosen said. "No one wants to live on an unemployment check."

Since August 2009, nearly 5 million Floridians have done exactly that, seeking help from the three types of unemployment benefits now available: state unemployment benefits and federal emergency and extended benefits. As of July, 2.6 million of them had exhausted some or all those benefits, according to the Florida Agency for Workforce Innovation.

Thousands more Floridians could find themselves in the same boat by early 2012. That's when the last few federal unemployment checks will end if federal officials can't agree on another extension. The bulk of federal and state unemployment benefits run out between Christmas and New Year's, according to Workforce officials.

What remains – short-term state benefits – will be available for the newly laid-off. But the length of those benefits will drop to a maximum of 23 weeks in January and could go as low as 12 weeks as the statewide unemployment rate falls, according to legislation passed this year.

The result is likely to be an immediate drop in consumer spending and a greater burden on charities and government programs.

That's because each dollar of unemployment benefits produces $1.61 in economic benefits, said Mason.

"It's the kind of money where you get the most bang for your buck," Mason said. "People tend to spend all of it."

Over the last two years, state and federal officials paid $7.6 billion in unemployment benefits in Florida – nearly a quarter of that in Hillsborough, Pinellas, Pasco and Polk counties, according to state Workforce officials.

Take that money out of the system and the effects will be felt quickly in local businesses, Mason said. That will produce an echo of reduced spending by businesses, potentially followed by more layoffs, he said.

The loss of benefits is likely to send more people to Tampa's Metropolitan Ministries and local charities that help the poor.

"We would expect to see an increase in demand when you drop benefits to that many people," agency spokesman Jim Alexander said.

The group already feeds more than 2,000 people a day and houses as many as 140 people at its facility at Tampa Street and Palm Avenue. The residential program has a waiting list of about 250 people, and it takes three to six months to get a spot, Alexander said.

Obama may include a push to extend unemployment benefits when he addresses Congress Thursday. A bill pending in the House of Representatives would extend unemployment benefits through next September. But there's no certainty Congress will go along with that, given the current political environment.

Those nearing the end of their jobless benefits need to brace themselves for the rough road ahead – one pock-marked with cattle-call job interviews, depleted savings and food banks, Turner said.

"I've had to humble myself in a number of ways," Turner said. "This is what it's like. I don't know what I did wrong."

Since losing her job, Turner has done everything she can think of to improve her situation.

She used federal job-training funds to learn website design at a technical school near her home in Pasco County. She hoped to make herself more marketable, but a new job never materialized. Potential employers wanted her to do it all: design, programming and website management, she said. But she wasn't trained for all that.

This year, Turner decided to retire early and claim diminished Social Security benefits.

"If I hadn't done that, I'd be homeless," she said.

Her monthly check – less than $1,000 -- covers the mortgage on the house she bought in 2002 but not much else. For food, fuel and living expenses, she relies on her savings and any short-term work she can scratch up. She spent Friday working as a substitute teacher.

Turner goes without health insurance rather than pay the $200-a-month premium for a policy with a $5,000 deductible.

"I can't afford to get sick," she said.

For now, she keeps hunting for work.

A telemarketing company wanted someone with experience. At Kohl's department store last Wednesday, she was among 30 people who showed up for a handful of retail sales jobs. She plans to apply for a job as a lunch lady at a Pasco County school.

Turner is single, with no family to support. She'd like to move away from Florida -- maybe even leave the country. But that takes money she doesn't have. And who would buy her house?

"This is simply a horrendous situation," she said. "But I refuse to give up."