Often forgotten in the stories of single homeless adults are their families. Disconnected, at a loss for what to do, and often uncertain of their whereabouts and well-being, many families of the homeless want to help but do not know how. We asked Alyne O’Keefe to share her experience with an important yet overlooked part of ending homelessness: family healing and reunification.
A Mother’s Struggle to Save Her Son
A little over 30 years ago, my husband and I met while we were both residents in a long term, live in, therapeutic community known as Gateway, which is similar to TROSA. Kevin and I always thought that, having been addicts ourselves, we would know right away if our children started using.
We were wrong. Our son, Ryan, began a journey of an addiction. He was able to keep it a secret from us for a very long time. I repeatedly had to ‘help’ him get out of trouble. I paid lawyers, I paid rents, I hired help to set up his apartments and to move him, and I furnished apartments for him. But he kept messing up and asking to come back home. Having had a difficult time growing up, myself, I always said that my children would have a home with me forever.
Then one morning as I walked into his room to wake him, I found him sleeping on his back while holding a bag of heroin. He had obviously nodded out. I told him to leave. After years of being used, abused, manipulated, stolen from and even mugged, I had had enough. Our son was homeless.
I was petrified that I would have to bury my son. Ryan spent weeks going from one of his drug ‘friends’ to the next and always looking for that high. He begged money, walked around with his book bag holding his belongings, and tried to find cheap hotels to sleep. He had really fallen.
When I saw him, he had lost a great deal of weight and had the most horrendous looking tracks on his arms. I just could not take it anymore. I told him NOT to call me till he got his life straightened out and to please not make me go to his funeral. I researched live in therapeutic communities, thinking that he needed a place like Gateway, since it had worked for Kevin and me. I talked to friends on the Police force. I talked to my Rabbi. I talked to social worker friends. Ryan, being over 18, was “on his own”. There was nothing that I could ‘make’ him do.
Finally, one night, after he had called the house repeatedly, ranting and raving and swearing and threatening and demanding that we give him money, I was so afraid that he was going to die, that I felt that I had no alternative than to call the law. This decision tortured me for a long time. I was sure that was his last night on earth if I did not get him away from where he was. I knew he had some warrants for his arrest for some minor stealing candy bar kind of charges, and figured that if he would not help himself, perhaps I could force him to, at least, get clean. I showed up at the magistrate’s office the next day for his bail hearing and told the magistrate to look at his arms &and to please NOT let him out on bail, as he would only continue on his path of self destruction. And when his time was served in Durham, I let Granville know where he was so that he could be taken from one to the other jail. It was one of the hardest things I had ever done, but felt I was fighting for his life.
By this time, he had been away from the drugs long enough that he was no longer de-toxing or sick. I found a program in the mountains that was willing to take him. But, Ryan decided he would enter the Phoenix House instead. Kevin and I were sure that he would be back on the streets and that he did not have another ‘run’ and would surely kill himself. We did not think the Phoenix House could help him. It got to the point that we could not even talk about him with family or friends. If his name was mentioned, we responded that we could not discuss Ryan. We had to tell our neighbors that he was not welcome and if they saw him, at our house, they needed to call the law. For the first time in our lives, I would not take Ryan’s phone calls.
That was the turning point. He threw himself into the program, attended meetings, learned how to manage money, learned how to keep a house, to cook, to clean, how to follow rules, and to be a constructive member of society. The Phoenix House saved his life.
Kevin and I are so happy that we were wrong about the program. We thought he needed what we had. “To Be Aware is to Be Alive” and “There is Nothing Constant but Change” are two of the therapeutic terms we had learned to abide by. Ryan found what he needed for Ryan. He worked hard. He tried to help others and became president of the house. And when he was ready, they helped him move into his very own apartment.
He was no longer homeless. He had a place to lay his head that he, himself, was taking care of, cleaning, plus paying for. He stayed at Sherwood Park Apartments for a year and is now renting an adorable house with his girlfriend and one-year-old son. Ryan holds a very demanding construction job (the same job Alfonso helped him get when he first entered the House.), pays his bills, and helps to keep the house & to raise his son. He continues to attend night classes to earn his contractors license. He works 6 & 7 days a week when needed. He attends meetings and is dedicated to his home group.
Our opinion of Housing for New Hope and the Phoenix House has come about to a 180 degree change. We thank the Lord that we were wrong and that Ryan’s addiction and homelessness have had a happy ending. For so long, we were sure this day would never come. We are proud of Ryan. We have our son back. We are proud.
