“I come from a family of veterans, but it’s my brother’s journey that truly lit the fire in my soul. He served eight years in the Army. He was willing to sacrifice everything for what he believed in. But when he got out, he was damaged.

“He saw so much, and he never wanted to talk about it. I would catch him rocking himself to sleep at night. Then one day, he just up and left. I’d get in my car and ride all night looking for him, and I’d always find him under a bridge with homeless veterans he’d met. This went on every day. He’d leave, I’d bring him home, clean him up, feed him, but he’d go right back out there.

“I fought tooth and nail with the VA to get him help, get him benefits. I don’t know, I think they’re just overwhelmed with so many veterans needing assistance. But these people fought for us. They sacrificed so much, including their mental health in a lot of cases. When they come home, they should have something to come home to.

“Lioness Touch is my answer to this urgent need. It’s a nonprofit committed to restoring dignity, and providing housing and hope for homeless and elderly veterans, as well as displaced veterans who lack identification and need a safe place to rebuild their lives. We’re still in the development phase. But we’re working hard to establish transitional homes where veterans can heal and rebuild. We want to launch job-creation and empowerment programs that honor every individual’s gifts. And we want to build a network of community outreach and holistic care that meets people where they are, providing support and care tailored to their needs.

“Our slogan is: You fought for us. Now let us fight for you. Everyone deserves a chance to start again, with love, not judgment. We’re not trying to give a handout. We’re trying to give a hand up.”

— Danquole “Shaun” Robinson

For more information on Lioness Touch, check the website.

The post She has big heart for homeless vets appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“I got my feet wet in an internship with Your New Beginning. It’s for people with court-ordered counseling for drug offenses or domestic violence offenses. I challenged myself by working with domestic violence offenders. Their sessions were for 18 weeks, but I had guys stay in my class for 30-40 weeks. They were like, ‘We just need to talk to you every week.’ I built such a bond with them.

“Then I was like, what else can I challenge myself to do? That’s when an opportunity came to work with the homeless population. I met them where they were, on the street. I did everything I could for them, like see them housed and help them get some income.

“People always say, ‘Take a walk in my shoes.’ I feel like I’m able to do that. When I meet someone, I want to see life from their perspective. I want to understand all the emotions that they feel: every hardship, every joy.

“I told my homeless and domestic violence individuals, ‘I know when people see you, they have a preconceived notion about who you are. I don’t have that. I’m a blank slate. I’m non-judgmental. Tell me everything. I want to see things from your perspective.’

“My domestic violence clients would just be getting out of jail and coming back into society. And they would say, ‘I can’t get a job. Once they see felon on my record, once they see jail on my record, I’m just cast away.’

“Same with some of my homeless individuals. They would be like, ‘People don’t know that I had a master’s degree. They don’t know that I had a family. They don’t know that I never touched a drug in my life. I’m just on hard times.’

“Those experiences really motivated me to continue to be a blank slate for people. I like for them to be able to tell their own story, and realize that sometimes the pen is in their hand. If they want to write a better story for themselves, then they have the freedom to do that.”

— Carleigh Joseph Olivas

Carleigh switched from nursing to social work, and finished first in her class at Prairie View A&M University. She also earned a master’s in social work.

Related:

• Postpartum doula is there for new moms

The post Social worker is a ‘blank slate’ for clients appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“We’ve been homeless, and we’ve gone without. There were so many times that our food budget for every two weeks was $50. So we know what it’s like. We’ve always helped people through outreach, but we knew we could do more. We just didn’t know what that would look like.

“Opening the diner has been a beautiful thing. Someone may walk in crying and say, ‘Is it true? Can I really eat here for free?’ And we’re like, ‘Absolutely.’ It’s because of all the caring people who have paid in advance for others’ meals. Each time, we put a heart up there on the wall. So when someone comes in and needs a blessing, they won’t have to go hungry. We don’t want anyone to feel shame. It’s not until after they’ve eaten and gone that we take down the heart.

“It’s not just for people on the streets. It’s for anybody who’s hungry. For this one family, the woman’s husband works but there’s just not enough. She said, ‘I want to volunteer. I don’t want this for free. I’m not looking for a handout. I’m looking for a hand up.’

The other day, a man came in and said he was hungry. He had $5 in change. I said, ‘You keep it, and order whatever you want.’ He grabbed the money out of his backpack and said, ‘I want y’all to have this as a tip.’ I said, ‘No, sir, keep that. Because you might need it later.’ He wouldn’t let me give it back.

“This whole experience is humbling. It’s so much bigger than Paul and me. Every day my phone blows up with people wanting to be part of this. And we have the most amazing staff. They truly cook and serve with love in their hearts. Every morning before we open, we pray. We want people to know that it’s the lord’s diner, it’s not ours.

“We ask people on the streets to let others know. We don’t want anyone to go hungry. There are so many who come in and are beyond grateful that they get a chance to eat. It’s wonderful to be part of something so amazing.”

— Teresa McCartney Hoffart

(Note: Paul passed away on June 22, 2023, and Teresa died on Dec. 18, 2024.)

The post Baytown Pay It Forward Diner feeds the hungry appeared first on The Baytown Project.

When I met Joshua Johnson six years ago, it was outside a Baytown motel. He was staying there temporarily.

He said at the time, “I was living at an RV park. Me and my friend were staying there. He lit a cigarette and threw it at the propane tank. It had a hose leak, and it blew up. The whole bedroom caught on fire. From there, it all went down hill. Ever since then, I haven’t really had a place to live. I’ve stayed with friends. I’ve slept at bus stops. I’ll get on the bus and go to the back to sleep. I fall asleep at the library sometimes. I’m on the waiting list for low-income housing. Recently, I’ve been staying at this motel.”

You may see Joshua around town, riding his black bike while listening to his favorite country tunes from Alan Jackson and George Strait. These days, he has a place to call home.

I caught up with him last week, across the street from an apartment complex. A friend from church helped him secure a spot there nearly three years ago.

“It’s great. I’m staying warm at night. I’m taking showers. I’m cooking real food. And I can actually make coffee.”

The basics that many of us take for granted are much more than that for people in the community who find themselves living on the streets. Joshua has been there and done that.

As he told me back in 2016, “We prefer not to be called homeless. We like to be treated like regular, normal human beings. We’re just having a tough time. We’re just trying to survive day to day.”

These days, for Joshua, life is a little more normal.

Related:

• He wants to be treated like ‘normal human being’

• High school graduation ‘biggest day of my life’

The post It feels ‘great’ to be off the streets appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“When you’re on the street by yourself, it feels pretty worthless. I don’t want to be here. It gets very lonely. I’ve been very depressed. I cry myself to sleep every night. I just wish I could find somebody to love me as much as I can love somebody else.

“Somehow, I still make myself laugh. It’s complicated. It felt insane at first. But it makes me feel better. Having a sense of humor. Laughing at things that hurt me worse.”

What’s the hardest thing you’ve been through?
“I don’t know. Everything. But it ain’t going to break me. Because I’m already broken. I’ve been broken for years.

“I’ve still got faith. It’s very small. But I’ve got it.”

The post Being homeless ‘feels pretty worthless’ appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“If it was not for what I’d gone through, then I couldn’t do what I do now. I’m what’s called a mental health and addiction recovery peer support specialist. Simply by the word peer, it means that I’ve been there, done that. I realized that for the first time in my life, my path, my past, could actually become my asset.

“When I help someone as a recovery coach, I’m not as concerned about what they did in the past. What I want to know is what can I do to help them in their recovery today. I’m a barrier breaker. If there’s something standing between them and being sober today, we talk about it. We figure it out together so that I can help them through it.

“One of my passions is working with the homeless. I’ve been homeless. But never to the extent that I was during 2020. That was a very, very hard year for me. When I worked at the Sobering Center in Houston, many of our clients were homeless. One of the worst things you can do is take away hope from someone. Once someone has no hope, it’s the worst feeling in the world. So when I was able to sit down with someone, especially older people, and relate my story — that I didn’t get clean and sober until I was 57 — you could see that little spark of hope come back.

“What I do is absolutely amazing. I think it’s my purpose. I used to ask God, ‘Why? What made me walk down this path? Why did you let me do this?’ God always has an answer, a bigger picture. We only see a very small part of it. And I think the reason I had to walk down that path of drug addiction and going in and out of prison was simply because now, I can turn around to somebody else and lend them a helping hand up. It’s the most fulfilling thing.”

— Karen McKee

Karen is a recovery coach who currently serves as residential manager for a safe house at Rescue Us Mission in Houston.

Related:

• From life of drugs to recovery coach

The post Now she helps others with their addictions appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“The first time I started coming to this church, I just let a few little things get to me, and I fell right back into the old me. I was having a hard time reading the Bible. I didn’t really even know how to pray or talk to God that well. This time, it’s come so much easier. I’m totally ready for it now.

“I don’t care what anybody thinks when I walk out in those streets. I haven’t really left too much. One time I did leave to take one of the leaders here and another lady to the bus stop. On the way there and on the way back, there were at least five people who wanted something related to Kush or blunts. After they got on that bus, I could not get back here fast enough. I ran back like a little kid.

“I’m not ready to go back out there yet for good. I ask for patience. But be careful what you ask for because I’ve had test after test after test. And I find myself getting mad over the littlest stuff. I know it’s the devil just eating at me, saying, ‘You’re not going to do it. You can’t do it this time.’ Yes, I am, man. I’m doing it. This is the longest I’ve ever been clean since I really started smoking weed around 19 or 20. Now, I’m just taking it one day at a time. All I know is that I don’t want to be the old me. I know that for a fact. I want to be better.

“I have a son who’s going to turn 19 on Dec. 30. I haven’t gotten to be around him very much because of the drugs and the alcohol and just being ignorant. I have pretty much neglected my son through all of this. But I don’t think he’s ready for me to come see him yet. I want to be totally clean. I want to be good. I want to have a job. I want to be a good dad. I want my son to see the change in me. For so many years, I was good at being bad. Now I want to be real good at being good.”

— Larry Pool Jr.

Having struggled for years with drugs and alcohol, Larry believes he’s on a better path in life thanks to House of Mercy. He’s currently staying at the local church, which is planning its second annual Christmas banquet on Dec. 7 for those without homes. It hopes to help 300 people from Baytown and surrounding communities by providing dinner, gifts, clothes, shoes, haircuts and showers. To learn how you can support this effort, contact Teresa McCartney Hoffart at 713-702-2848.

Related:

• After friend’s death, ‘I just let go of the wheel’

• ‘I should be gone, but I’m still here’

The post Church helps on way to turning life around appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“After all I’ve been through, I’m fortunate to be here alive today. I’ve had heart surgery. I’ve been shot multiple times. I’ve lost close friends. It got to the point where I didn’t care about life anymore. I was done. I turned to drugs, alcohol and all that because I wanted to feel numb. Just numb the pain.

“I used to think it was just me, and that God didn’t really have a hand in any of it. But now, it’s the biggest part of me changing my life. It’s the biggest part of me still being here.

“One time, I was in the middle of a drug deal, where I was on my hands and knees. I just looked up and started praying. And out of nowhere, the idiot on one side with a .45 to my head and the idiot on the other side with a 9 millimeter, they put their guns down and began arguing. As they got into a little wrestling match, I started crawling backwards. As soon as I hit that door, I was gone. Now that I look back at it, there’s not a doubt in my mind that was God.

“Many times when I was in jail or prison, I would promise, ‘Hey, man, if you can just get me out of this, I’ll be good.’ When I got out, I was good for about two weeks. Then, bam, back to the same old stuff. I just don’t think that was right. I spit in God’s face a lot. It hasn’t been cool.

“I believe he has a calling on my life. I just don’t know what it is. I should be gone, but I’m still here. Now I’m trying to identify what my calling is and move ahead in a more positive way.”

— Larry Pool Jr.

Having struggled for years with drugs and alcohol, Larry believes he’s on a better path in life thanks to House of Mercy. He’s currently staying at the local church, which is planning its second annual Christmas banquet on Dec. 7 for those without homes. It hopes to help 300 people from Baytown and surrounding communities by providing dinner, gifts, clothes, shoes, haircuts and showers. To learn how you can support this effort, contact Teresa McCartney Hoffart at 713-702-2848.

Related:

• After friend’s death, ‘I just let go of the wheel’

• Church helps on way to turning life around

The post ‘I should be gone, but I’m still here’ appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“I grew up with messed-up feet. They were real club-footed, like turned in. To help fix them, I had to wear these casts that went all the way up my legs. When I was 8, they cut them down to below my knees. I also had to wear what I call Forrest Gump shoes with the bar in the middle to kind of force my feet out. When you’re the only one in school looking like that, other kids can be pretty mean. But I didn’t let it stop me. I wanted to play baseball. At first, when I would hit the ball, someone else would run for me. I got tired of that. I wanted to do it myself. And I did. But because I ran stiff-legged, I had to hit the ball all the way to the fence just to get to first base. I made the all-star team that season as the second-string pitcher. In the championship game, there were two runners on base, and I tattooed one and got a home run. That was the first time I got to touch all the bases.

“I was a pretty decent pitcher at La Porte High School. I threw a 93 miles-per-hour fastball, and I could put it anywhere: three inches off the plate, right on the plate, right at your face. I was offered a contract by the Cincinnati Reds. But my dad told me that getting an education was the most important thing. So I signed to play at Louisiana State University. After I got there, I started acting stupid and got caught twice with weed in my room. The second time, they kicked me off the team, took away my scholarship, and I had to go home. Needless to say, my dad was pretty disappointed in me. But he helped me get a tryout at San Jacinto College. I ended up making the team, along with a buddy of mine who was a catcher from Deer Park.

“When we were told that we had made the last cut, we went out to celebrate with our girlfriends. His girlfriend drove. On the way home, she dropped off my girlfriend first and then me. I was taking a shower when the phone rang. My dad said that a Hispanic lady on the line was really distraught about something, but he couldn’t understand what she was saying. I jumped out of the shower and figured out it was my buddy’s mom. I didn’t know exactly what was going on, so I got in my Camaro and raced over to their house. When I pulled up, I saw firetrucks, ambulances and police cars. I ran up to the porch, and all his mother could do was point. I turned around to look, and I saw my buddy pinned between his girlfriend’s car and another car. While he had been leaning in the window to give her a kiss, a drunk driver came around the corner and T-boned him. He waited about 15 minutes for me to get there, to tell me goodbye before he passed.

“That hit me real hard. I thought, that’s it, I’m done. I got in my car, drove to Last Drop Liquor, and bought two fifths of Jim Beam. I drank one in the parking lot. I finished the second one before I got to Highway 225. I jumped on 225 and just took off, about 120 miles an hour. I wasn’t stopping. I didn’t care anymore. I was done. As I got to where you’re supposed to turn onto the 610 Loop, I just let go of the wheel. It turned, and I ended up hitting one of the concrete poles or the wall at the end. I hit so hard that the engine ended up in my lap. The last thing I remember is getting into the ambulance. I woke up on a gurney in the emergency room, and I knew I wasn’t staying. So I took everything off. Just got up and walked out.

“Besides hitting a few balls and tossing it around with some buddies in the years since then, I left baseball behind. Because of all that happened, I just figured I wasn’t supposed to do it anymore. That part of my life was over.”

— Larry Pool Jr.

Having struggled for years with drugs and alcohol, Larry believes he’s on a better path in life thanks to House of Mercy. He’s currently staying at the local church, which is planning its second annual Christmas banquet on Dec. 7 for those without homes. It hopes to help 300 people from Baytown and surrounding communities by providing dinner, gifts, clothes, shoes, haircuts and showers. To learn how you can support this event, contact Teresa McCartney Hoffart at 713-702-2848.

Related:

• ‘I should be gone, but I’m still here’

• Church helps on way to turning life around

The post After friend’s death, ‘I just let go of the wheel’ appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“On my way to work, I would see homeless people every day. Especially during the winter months, I would see them living in cardboard boxes under bridges and sometimes on sidewalks. I’ve bought food for a homeless person, and the gratitude of, ‘Thank you, thank you, God bless you,’ makes you want to do so much more. I think that we as a society must help the needy. Since there is a huge need, I decided to become a volunteer. As a member of the UPS Houston Community Investment Committee, I help create volunteer events. We’ve helped several charity organizations, including the Boys and Girls Clubs of Greater Houston, and we’re now collecting blankets for the homeless. 

“I love volunteering because it gives me a sense of purpose in life. My most memorable volunteer activity was when I worked at a hospital in Brooklyn, New York. I was assisting patients in filling out medical forms at their bedside in the emergency room. Some of them couldn’t understand English or speak the language. So I was the one who would help bridge the communication gap, and assist the nurses and patients in translating. Another memorable activity was assembling bikes that were donated to disadvantaged children who could not afford them. The bikes were transported by UPS to several Boys and Girls Clubs in the Houston area.

“I enjoy volunteering because you know that your efforts can positively impact a community. I think we should all volunteer because you never know when you will be the one needing help.”

— Mariel Pagan

New or gently used blankets for the homeless can be dropped off at the UPS Customer Center at 5421 I-10 in Baytown, noon-6:30 p.m., Monday through Friday, until Sept. 1, 2019. The blankets will be distributed later this year through the Healthcare for the Homeless Program that serves Harris County. Homeless people in Baytown will be among those who receive the blankets.

The post She’s filling a need by helping the homeless appeared first on The Baytown Project.