They have survived bankruptcy, massive medical bills for their son, workplace injury and unemployment. Her husband, who lost 1.5 inches in height after an on-the-job back injury, is struggling to find work. Their financial record and the economic squeeze make jobs even tougher to come by.

"We had everything and lost everything," Augustine said on a recent afternoon as her son, who has a single kidney, played in the sunshine.

Like many Utahns, they signed up for subsidized housing, hoping to find an inexpensive place where they could start over. And like many Utahns, that means they have waited. For years.

As the economy has worsened, more families are following their lead despite the discouraging line of people ahead of them.

Since the beginning of this year, the number of people applying at the Salt Lake City housing authority for discounted housing has increased by one-third. The largest program, known as section 8, allows people to typically pay no more than 30 percent of their income for rent. About 4,400 people are currently on the section 8 waiting list; about 7,000 are on waiting lists for all housing programs.

The Augustines have been waiting for two years, and recently visited a subsidized apartment they hope to move into.

Because the federal government controls the number of these housing "vouchers," there's a limit to what local housing authorities can do.

"We do our best to educate our senators and congressmen to help increase that number," said Bill Nighswonger, executive director of the Salt Lake City housing authority. "Hopefully, someone sees the wisdom in that."

The city housing authority did increase its numbers a few months ago when it secured 35 vouchers for homeless veterans.

But in some cases having a voucher is not a solution. The rental market in Utah County is so competitive that dozens of residents with housing vouchers can't find a place to live.

Finding any apartment has grown more complicated as landlords become less willing to take a risk on someone with bad credit, according to Sharon Abegglen, the housing director at Salt Lake Community Action Program, which serves a low-income population. Because demand is high, landlords have a larger pool to choose from.

"It's a difficult climate we're living in," she said. "The landlords have the upper hand - that's the reality."

Not only have rents gone up, in some cases deposit requirements have climbed along with application fees. Old debt, which might have been less problematic a few years ago, can haunt a working family.

"Because the rental market is so tight, the people who suffer are the people who look worse on paper," said John Selfridge, director of clinical services at The Road Home, the downtown homeless shelter.

For the first time, seniors are telling the community action program their rent is equal to their Social Security benefits. They're seeing more seniors take out reverse mortgages on their homes.

Overall, about a third more people are calling the agency as they realize their rent, utilities and even their mortgages are bigger than their budget. In the last three months, about 200 people have sought advice on their mortgage, compared with about 400 in the 9 months before. So many people, in fact, that they're sometimes referred elsewhere because CAP is booked for weeks.

"The working poor are your neighbors," Abegglen said. "It's not [just] the person coming out of the shelter."

The organization, in some ways, has less ability to help because the amount of federal money for emergencies - to pay a month's rent, a mortgage payment or deposit - continues to decline.

As the crisis grows, the organization is seeing more people from outside the city - in suburban areas traditionally immune from these kinds of problems - requesting help.

And when people need help they continue to look to the city housing authority. Vanessa Martinez stopped by the Salt Lake City housing authority Thursday afternoon. Her husband has been out of work since January and the family has two children now, plus one on the way.

"I can't afford pretty much anything anymore," said Martinez who works in customer service at Utah Transit Authority. "Everything's too expensive."

jlyon@sltrib.com