On certain mornings in the Mecklenburg County Courthouse, long before the first case is called, a handful of Legal Aid attorneys and volunteers gather in a small conference room outside the eviction courtrooms. They set out clipboards, laptops, and intake sheets and prepare for the rush of people who will soon walk through the doors carrying fear, stress, and the very real possibility of losing their homes.
This is Legal Aid of North Carolina’s courthouse eviction clinic, a twice-monthly effort designed to support tenants at a critical moment in the legal process. For many people, it is the first time anyone has stood beside them as they navigate a system that moves quickly and can be difficult to understand without guidance.
“Without legal help, people can get rolled over,” said Justin Tucker, Charlotte Housing Project Manager, who leads the clinic. He explained that eviction court is a high-volume environment where cases move efficiently, often faster than tenants can absorb information about their rights or options.
On clinic mornings, that pace is met with preparation and purpose. The team reviews the day’s dockets, pairs volunteers with attorneys, and coordinates across the courtrooms. Magistrates often take a moment at the start of the calendar call to announce that Legal Aid is available to speak with anyone who would like assistance. Some tenants look relieved, some hesitate, and some head straight into the hallway to talk.
When they do, they find calm voices, open chairs, and people ready to listen.
At a clinic in November, Justin met a pregnant woman in her seventh or eighth month. She was in the process of moving out of her home but had not been properly served with the eviction paperwork. From Justin’s perspective, she was doing everything she could under difficult circumstances, yet still faced a judgment that could affect her housing prospects for years.
Justin identified a service of process issue that might otherwise have gone unnoticed. He continued the case, and by the time it was refiled and properly served, she had already relocated to Florida. Because Legal Aid was able to intervene, the case was dismissed. She avoided the judgment entirely and did not have to return to court. Her move was challenging, but it was home to home instead of home to homelessness.
Situations like hers are not uncommon. Even an eviction filing alone can make it harder for a tenant to secure housing in the future. Justin describes the writ of possession as particularly consequential. “Once a writ appears on someone’s record, it becomes very hard for people to find housing,” he said.
That is why the clinic matters. It gives tenants someone who can review their case, explain what is happening, and provide guidance in real time. It brings clarity and dignity to a process that can otherwise feel overwhelming.
Justin wishes more people understood just how quickly eviction cases move and how lasting the impact of a filing can be. He noted that many cases could be resolved without court involvement if tenants had access to timely information and support. He also shared something he believes is often misunderstood. “Tenants do not want to live for free. They know they have bills. They know they have responsibilities.” Life can change suddenly and without warning.
The scale of the need is significant. Todd Stillerman, a volunteer attorney who works in-house at Wells Fargo, pointed to the broader housing pressures facing Mecklenburg County. “Eviction filings here have surged dramatically, up 37 percent in the last fiscal year, putting nearly 13,000 additional households at risk of losing their homes. In 2024 alone, more than 46,000 eviction cases were filed in Mecklenburg County, and nearly 30,000 were granted. By 2025, filings rose even further to more than 52,000, the highest level on record.”
Those figures reflect a wider strain. Nearly half of all renter households in Mecklenburg County, about 94,000 families, are cost-burdened, meaning they spend more than 30 percent of their income on rent. For years, that percentage has hovered between 45 and 48 percent, leaving many residents vulnerable to housing instability.
Behind the numbers are families making difficult choices, Todd said, whether to pay rent or buy food, keep childcare, or cover medical bills. “The consequences are profound. Eviction can set off a chain reaction, including job loss, homelessness, and school disruption for children.” For kids, the effects are especially serious, increasing the likelihood of homelessness, chronic absenteeism, and reduced graduation rates.
A typical clinic day is fast-paced and focused. Volunteers conduct brief interviews, confirm eligibility, identify legal issues, and provide advice on the spot. When appropriate, they represent tenants in court or outline next steps. Todd said, “People without a lawyer almost always face challenges. Representation changes everything. It feels like the judge listens more carefully, hearings last longer, and the law gets applied more fairly.”
He recalled representing a young woman in east Charlotte who lived in an apartment with serious habitability issues and fell behind on rent after her car broke down. Through the clinic and subsequent work with Legal Aid, she preserved her credit and avoided losing her home. “That case reminded me why this work matters. The stakes are enormous, and even one lawyer stepping in can change the trajectory of someone’s life.”
Even a few hours of volunteering can have a meaningful impact. “Legal Aid staff and volunteer leaders provide training and support so everyone can contribute,” Todd said. “There is a place for everyone.”
For Todd, Justin, and the attorneys who show up month after month, the clinics are about more than cases. They are about stability, dignity, and helping families stay housed. “I spend just a few hours a month volunteering at the eviction clinics, but the Legal Aid housing team is always working. A few hours of your time can mean the difference between a family losing their home and finding stability,” Todd said.
For the tenants who climb the courthouse steps each month, those moments of support can change everything, one conversation, one advocate, and one intervention at a time.