I was privileged to attend an open house last week that celebrated the final preparations for Out of the Cold’s permanent overnight shelter. As an occasional supporter, occasional volunteer and perpetual well-wisher for this service to Centre County’s homeless folks, I wanted to see the renovated facility and gauge its potential impact.
I wasn’t disappointed. In fact, I sensed that the refurbished building at 318 S. Atherton St. in State College marks a major breakthrough for Out of the Cold’s ability to serve people experiencing homelessness.
The former Quaker Meetinghouse has been used by OOTC for several years, but only as a day shelter and site for basic case management. Overnight accommodations were still being provided by various churches on a rotating schedule—a good solution but not a great one.
During my handful of visits to the overnight sites at churches, terms like “adequate” and “temporary” always came to my mind. Never such words as “excellent” or “secure.” But now that the building on Atherton Street has been renovated, it is clearly ready to offer a pleasant and stable home, albeit temporary, for those currently without permanent housing.
STABLE ENVIRONMENT
Last week, as I saw the refurbished bathrooms, freshly-painted walls and on-site offices, I realized that the renovated building is going to provide an efficient environment for staff members and an encouraging abode for guests.
To Jordan Taylor, the executive director of Out of the Cold, a sense of stability at the new site is the biggest plus. “We would move (between churches) every two weeks,” she notes. “It’s been really hard on them (the guests). Especially whenever they’re dealing with other barriers that probably led to them being homeless, not having a regular place to go to is very difficult.”
Of course, no one’s dissing on the previous setup. And in fact, many local residents—including me—are amazed that 15 churches from diverse backgrounds could cooperate so cohesively. We’re talking about an ecclesiastical version of soup-to-nuts: Protestant and Catholic, contemporary and liturgical, theologically liberal and conservative.
“All of the churches have been welcoming and accommodating to our guests,” says Taylor. And she adds that the churches are still very much needed to provide volunteers, meals and contributions of goods and finances. Furthermore, if all 28 beds at the new shelter are full during the winter, it’s quite possible that the churches would heroically step up to create an overflow shelter.
A PERSONAL STORY
Attending one of last week’s three open houses didn’t just allow me to observe a facility breakthrough. That time also allowed me to talk with 53-year-old “Lee,” a former guest who has experienced a personal breakthrough. Now an Out of the Cold staff member, Lee personifies the kind of transformation that the agency has sought to facilitate since its 2011 beginning.
So there I was, talking to someone who has rapidly grown into a role of service to others since his release from Centre County jail last fall. As things turned out, we chatted in an upstairs office that was still lacking some of its furniture. The door was off its hinges—no doubt because of the recent painting—so Lee gave us some quiet by simply grabbing the door and placing it against the doorframe. The term “under construction” seemed to apply to everything I observed that day.
As for Lee’s own transformation, it’s clear that he started life with several strikes against him. Born in Montreal, Quebec, he found himself in a broken home by age two when his parents separated. And then his mother returned to her home city of Philadelphia.
DIFFICULT NEIGHBORHOODS
Describing the circumstances he faced until the age of 10, Lee told me, “It was inner city, rough side of the tracks. We were poorer than the poor people. We lived in North Philly, a section called Strawberry Mansion. We lived right next door to a speakeasy, so there was no sitting outside on the steps. People are drunk; people are shooting up.”
Lee’s mom worked tirelessly to provide a better environment for her two sons and the result was good for their safety but not for Lee’s mentality. After leaving Strawberry Mansion, the family moved to University City, the Southwest Philly home of the University of Pennsylvania and Drexel University. “It was a little bit higher class,” Lee said, “but we were still low-class people.”
The visible gap between his family and others in the neighborhood was harmful to Lee’s self-image. “I noticed there were two parents in a lot of the homes and only one in mine,” he told me. “And when the new school year kicked in, kids had brand new shoes and they wanted to show off their new outfits. I was coming in with my cousin’s stuff that he got in the rummage store.”
MOM’S TOUGH LOVE
Negative thinking led to negative behavior for Lee. “I didn’t think the successful life was really afforded to me. I didn’t know if I was cursed or if I just had a bad mojo or if I was just inherently bad. I dropped out of ninth grade after three attempts at it, and I went on to a life of crime and drugs.”
Included in this new life was separation from his family. “You couldn’t get high,” Lee said. “That was against my mom’s rules of the house. You had to be in the house at 10 o’clock, you had to go to school. You had to be a member of the family, and I wasn’t because I wanted to run the street.
“So she said, ‘Go run the street.’ And she packed my bags and she had them on the porch for me one night. And when I came home at 11:45 when I was supposed to be in at 10, she politely let me know that was my stuff. Things she had purchased but was allowing me to take with me. I was 15.”
BACKWARDS AND FORWARDS
Within two years, Lee had his own apartment—paid for through stealing and sales of drugs. Soon, with money coming in and without adult supervision, “I was hooked on crack cocaine and booze, and that was my lifestyle for many years.”
It wasn’t until he reached his early 30s that Lee began to think seriously about getting his life together. And that was just in time to help his mom fulfill one of her dreams.
“She passed away in 2005,” he said, “and she was only in her 60s. But one of the major things she wanted to see was for her oldest son—me—to get his stuff together. So for the last three years of her life I had the same address, the same phone number and she was able to contact me. She went to bed at night, not having to worry when the phone rang that it was going to be about me. She was a trouper, man, and her memory will forever remain revered.
“Then at age 35 I began to really wake up. I wound up in jail, and that was the catalyst. So I decided, ‘Well, I’m going to get clean,’ and I got clean.”
ARRIVAL IN CENTRE COUNTY
Some years later, Lee made his way to Centre County to pursue a relationship with a woman he had met in an online 12-step group. “We had talked for years as friends,” said Lee. “And then she broke up with her guy, I broke up with my girl…So I came out to give it a shot with her that did not work out. Because that was my purpose for being here, I thought, ‘Oh well,’ and I left.”
Alas, the breakup was very difficult and the woman pressed charges against Lee. At least a year and a half went by, and one day he was pulled over by a highway policeman. “You have a warrant in Centre County,” said the officer, “and you have to come and face it.”
Well, as best I can summarize things, Lee accepted a plea bargain in our county that spared him from significant jail time. But later, he inadvertently violated his probation. (Trust me, it’s a long story that only a lawyer or TV scriptwriter would care to hear.) And that put him back in our county’s jail for a much longer stay of six months.
WHERE TO GO NOW?
Upon his release, Lee was without worldly possessions apart from his aging car in Philadelphia. Who would take him now? Who would really help? The answer was Out of the Cold, since his Centre County address qualified him for consideration by the agency.
Last October, Lee left a life reminiscent of the hurricane that shares his name and entered the calming care of Out of the Cold. “They brought me here. They interviewed me. They told me about the services they were in touch with that could maybe help me get back on my feet. Jordan, Kelsey, Lilly, they were all diligent, man. I was fortunate that I had already addressed and continue to address the alcoholism and drug addiction.”
And what a contrast the man from Philly experienced between Out of the Cold and his previous experience. In the past, he said, “Kids were pouring gasoline on me, trying to burn me up. I was homeless, and if you’re a bum on the street…you are fair game. I remembered that, so instead of going backwards, I took the suggestions and the help that Jordan and Kendra and Kelsey and all of them were offering.”
Highly-motivated and blessed with a bright mind and a warm personality, Lee quickly found a job and some purpose by working at a retirement home where “people needed me.” Then, before too long, he moved into an apartment. But he never did cut his ties with Out of the Cold.
“I never left,” he said. “I moved out, but I never left. I would come back all the time and volunteer. I would sweep the floor. I would do the bathroom. I would ask Jordan what they needed.”
HAPPILY EVER AFTER?
According to Out of the Cold policy, Lee could not be considered for a staff position until he had been living on his own for six months. But when that time had elapsed, he didn’t hesitate. “I get to see hope where there was no hope,” he told me. “So that is the coolest thing for me.”
Anyone who spends time with Lee these days will observe a sense of excitement about him. But he doesn’t claim to have reached any kind of “happily ever after” existence. “My life is really chaotic,” he said. “I’m still working toward paying my debts to society. While I was in jail, my car was being used without my permission, and a bunch of fines got racked up.
“So my life is a mess, but I’m OK. I’m forever grateful for Out of the Cold and the people behind it. This is a fantastic program. It will point you in the right direction if you want to go in the right direction. I hope I’ll be able to be here a long time and contribute to…a bunch of lives being changed.“
