The Closure of Old Tent City: What happened, what it means, and how we move forward
- Lindsey Krinks
- Jun 12
- 3 min read

On June 2nd and 3rd, the Office of Homeless Services (OHS), the Mayor’s Office, Metro Parks, and Metro Police closed Old Tent City—the oldest and largest encampment in Nashville.
Originally, OHS reported that there were 125 residents at Old Tent City on their “by name list.” After the closure was completed, however, updates were only provided for 107 residents. Of these 107 residents, OHS reported that 16 people moved into permanent housing, 2 moved in with family or friends, and 86 moved into transitional housing at Rodeway Inn and other locations. It is difficult to verify these numbers because the list of residents has not been shared with other providers. These numbers are changing as circumstances change, but there are still residents who are unaccounted for.
The importance of Old Tent City in Nashville cannot be understated. It started in the 1980s and its population has ebbed and flowed ever since. The camp has meant different things to different people over the years. For some residents, this camp was hell, but for others it was a haven–a place where they found community, support, and connection to resources. A $70 million project—“Wharf Park”—is planned for the site.

At Open Table Nashville, our journey with Old Tent City began in 2008, two years before we became a nonprofit, when our co-founders and other advocates protested and successfully stopped the city’s closure of the camp. When the floodwaters rose around the camp in May of 2010, our co-founders helped evacuate residents and promised them that they wouldn’t abandon them. That promise of solidarity is how Open Table Nashville began, and 15 years later, that promise still drives our work.
Over the past several months, as we advocated against the closure of Old Tent City yet again, we were also onsite providing outreach services, navigating complex situations, and trying to ensure that no one fell through the cracks.

We helped friends repair and tow their RVs, campers, vehicles, and motorcycles. We coordinated with community members who generously offered places for friends to park their campers until they secure permanent housing. We paid fines and reinstated drivers licenses. We filled up gas tanks and provided rides so residents could take their belongings to their new destinations. We patiently walked with folks who were struggling to pack up their belongings and say goodbye to the land and community that had been their home when there was nowhere else for them to go.
None of this would have been possible without the support of so many people who gave their time, energy, and resources to stand in solidarity with these residents. We’re all so grateful.

We also witnessed bulldozers, bobcats, and contractors who started the process of clearcutting the camp while residents were still there. We checked inside tents to ensure they remained empty when we noticed that this was not being done – even after the chilling death of Cornelius Taylor, an unhoused man who was killed when a bulldozer cleared his camp and crushed his tent in Atlanta earlier this year.
Let us be clear: Closing an encampment is not a success story unless we also address the underlying issues that fuel homelessness like the affordable housing crisis in our city. When the shelters are full, Section 8 vouchers are halted, and the housing waiting lists are long, we echo the concern we’ve heard on the streets again and again: “Where can we go? Where can we safely exist until we get housing?”
Now, as federal budget cuts loom and state laws promise handcuffs instead of housing, there is one less site for people who need a place to land while they work on permanent options.
Mass homelessness in our city and nation is not a personal shortcoming–it’s a policy failure. When we address the underlying issues that cause homelessness in the first place, everyone benefits. And when we have enough housing and resources for all, encampments will shrink and close on their own.
Even if our city clearcuts every inch of Old Tent City, the earth will hold the memories of all that came before. Every name, every loss, every win. Every mulberry tree, ironweed, thistle, goldenrod, wild tomato, and trumpet vine that climbed the columns.
