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“God, this is it, I’m done. Please make something happen.”

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Struggling with addiction for over 20 years, Ramon (39) asked God for help, “God, this is it, I’m done. Please make something happen.” Thanks to generous donors like yourself, Ramon’s prayers were answered, and he came to Helping Up Mission (HUM), where he has healed, “spiritually, mentally, and physically.”

Born in Guatemala, Ramon’s family moved a lot: from Costa Rica to the Dominican Republic, to Puerto Rico, and the Virgin Islands. His father, a preacher in the Seventh Day Adventist church, and his mother did a good job of making his family feel safe during the many moves. “I never liked to be in one place for very long. I got used to moving and liked meeting new people and discovering new cultures,” recalls Ramon.

Being raised Seventh Day Adventist, with a strict ethical code against the consumption of alcohol, Ramon did not have his first drink until age 19.  That all changed while in college. “That first night, I drank two forty-ounce beers. After that, I never drank casually. Drinking was all or nothing and I always drank to get drunk and I didn’t care about the consequences.”

Ramon’s “no-care” lifestyle would continue for another 15 years. Much like his childhood relocations, Ramon would often move to change the situations, yet his addictions would resurface. “Through the geographical moves, I now realize that I was the problem. I had always blamed my situations on other things.” Ramon moved to California to live with his sister, but his addiction resurfaced and he moved to Texas with his brother. “I thought that if I were around my brother, everything would get better. But I wasn’t happy and quickly started isolating myself. I moved back with my parents who were living in New Jersey, and repeated the process. My father got transferred to Maryland, and I moved too.  The pattern repeated: I got healthy again but started drinking.

In Baltimore, Ramon got arrested and while in detention asked, “God, this is it, I’m done. Please make something happen. That is when I met John. He said that he knew of a place that would help me. I did not see him again and I was released. We never exchanged information and I did not know how to find him.  But through coincidence, or more likely by GOD, John was there when I returned to get my things. And that is how I found Helping Up Mission.”

“The hardest thing about the Spiritual Recovery Program at HUM is living in a dorm with 30 guys, although it is cool how the men come from all walks of life. Learning to stay still, letting the ‘fog clear’, and taking direction were also hard at first. But they (staff) provide us with so much and there are so many opportunities to carry us through the year. I joined the choir and connected with the group Brothers in Prayer. I signed up for everything that HUM had to offer, like backpacking. I joined a recovery homegroup and attended Celebrate Recovery.”

Throughout the year I also stayed connected with John. He said he had a job opening for me when I was ready. At first, it was hard to find a job because of my past. But HUM helped me expunge my criminal record, and I work for John now at Sofi’s Crepes Fells Point. A job that I can walk to! It has been a blessing.

As Ramon looks ahead to his future, he is thankful for HUM teaching him to sit still and just letting God lead. “I passionately want to be a Peer Recovery Specialist. I want to help people get over the hump of addiction. I know what they are going through, and I want to show them how they can start from nothing and relearn what they know about God, religion, and recovery.”

“My relationship with God today is very personal. Recovery has really helped me see His love for humankind, but we must find out how to love ourselves first. God has given me the gift of being comfortable around people. Because of my upbringing, I trust people, and that is what I want to help instill in others. By trusting in God, like when I prayed to him from the detention center, He opened the door and placed John into my life.”

“Today, I am most thankful for my health and my life. My family stuck with me, even when I was reaching a point in my life where (it seemed) there was no coming back.   I am thankful for God bringing back my sanity (Recovery Step 2). And I am thankful for love allowing me to adapt to and accept people where they are. I am grateful for HUM healing me: spiritually, mentally, and physically. If I had the opportunity to go back and talk to myself on my first day I would say, ‘Ramon, you are at the right place. God brought you here. It’s starting now!’ “

Thanks to donors, volunteers, and partners like you, Ramon is well on his way to becoming a Peer Recovery Specialist. His true life-transformation is a testament to your generosity on many levels. And the hope that Ramon provides the men and women that we serve is immeasurable.

 

Because of your generosity, Arthur Friday (age 37), has another chance to recover from addiction! Arthur was born in Baltimore, the oldest son of ten kids. Arthur’s life changed at age 9 when his father passed away, leaving the family reeling from the sudden loss. His mother, struggling with active addiction, was left with the daunting task of raising ten kids as a single parent.  “We were hungry, not going to school, down and dirty. My oldest sister “dumpster dove” to feed us.  Shortly thereafter, our conditions were reported to Social Services and all ten of us were placed in various stages of foster homes, group homes, and institutions,” recalls Arthur.

The oldest children, including Arthur, were placed in the KIVA House, a group home for 11 to 17 year olds in Arnold, MD. Arthur attended Severna Park High School, where he was a three-sport athlete playing football, basketball, and track. It was during this time that Arthur began drinking alcohol and smoking marijuana to have fun. Arthur admits, “Alcohol was my “trigger,” drinking was my gateway to other drugs.” His addiction progressed from there. Having graduated high school and attending Montgomery College to play football, “having fun” changed to owing people money for the cocaine he started using.

At age 23, Arthur returned to Baltimore and started living with his mother, then clean from her own addiction (she now has 18 years of sobriety). “My unmanageability was growing. I started lacing marijuana with cocaine. I wanted more and more and the cravings grew. I also started smoking crack cocaine. Within 30 days, I lost everything – my job, respect, money, and my responsibilities.”

“My mother’s boyfriend had been a HUM client and told me that HUM ‘would be a great place for help.’ In 2009, I came to HUM for the first time, but I stayed just 45 days.”

“I came back to HUM in 2011, this time as a member of the Johns Hopkins 9-1-1 program. I graduated from the program, but I was not done using drugs…I relapsed. In 2017, I spent nine months at the Mission. But I was selfish and moved in with my girlfriend. I eventually ended up at the Salvation Army, where I graduated from their six-month program. They offered me 3 different jobs, but I turned them all down. The same scenario unfolded, and I got selfish and relapsed again. Finally, six months ago I walked through the familiar doors of Helping Up Mission, hopefully for the last time.”

“The Spiritual Recovery Program (SRP) leaders gave me another chance. The staff at HUM have tremendous faith and will not give up on a person. They recognize addiction as a lifelong disease, and all that you have to do is apply the tools that they freely give you. The  program has provided me with mental health counselors who help me open up about the real issues that got me here.”

“My Treatment Coordinator Steven Gallop, a HUM graduate and staff member has helped guide my recovery. I’ve spent countless hours in the HUM gym, getting healthy again. Donors have provided all of the clothing and personal care products that I need. When it comes down to it, living at HUM means having all of your physical needs met so that you can pursue your spiritual needs.”

Psalms 119:11 I have hidden your word in my heart that I might not sin against you.

“My favorite quote from the bible is from Psalms 119:11 I have hidden your word in my heart that I might not sin against you. Now when I have a choice, I choose God.”

“The SRP has provided me with the life skills necessary to look forward to graduation. I want to use these skills in the field of recovery by becoming a Peer Recovery Specialist. I plan on taking the classes that our Workforce Development Program provides in order to help the men who like me, are struggling with this lifelong disease.”

Thanks to YOU and countless other donors and volunteers, Arthur and 540 other men and women have the chance each day to break the cycle of addiction and homelessness.  You are saving and transforming lives through your compassion and generosity!

Bobby Johnson Sr. 59, a veteran from Salisbury, North Carolina hit rock bottom asking for a Christmas meal in Tampa, Florida. Because of generous donors like yourself, Bobby, a former chef, is now going to college with the hope to help kids develop their own culinary skills.

“I was raised by my mother, a single parent with help from my grandmother, but my father was in my life, so I had a good upbringing.”

“As a kid I loved to succeed. I wasn’t old enough to get a newspaper route, so, I helped the newspaperman carry papers. I was on the school yearbook team. I was good at acting and theater, and I played football. At age 15 I started DJing and my mother suggested that I wait until I became grown to start doing such foolish things (laughter). Later, she would tell me that “when I was in school, I never gave her problems. I waited until I grew up to start doing things that were not right.”

At age 20, Bobby joined the military, got married, and got divorced. “I was a food service officer in the military from 1980 to 1990. At 32, when I got out of the military, I remarried but found out that my new wife had a secret. Prior to our marriage, she had a relationship with my father. I was so hurt that I could not even think about loving the Lord. I started hanging out with friends and smoking marijuana laced with cocaine, which soon escalated to crack cocaine. I didn’t want to embarrass my family being a “crackhead”. So, I moved to Tampa, Florida and for seven years I held onto my resentments which kept me in my addiction.’

During Christmas in 2004, living in substandard housing, Bobby went to a place where they were giving away food. And at that point, he asked, “why am I living, if I’m living dead? This was not me and I thought I was going to die. So, I asked God for help.”

Eventually Bobby turned to Baltimore for Recovery. “I started out at McVets, where I got six years clean. And then my mother passed in 2016, and a couple of months later I relapsed. I struggled and went home to North Carolina. The Pastor from my Baltimore church called, and I told him the truth.”

“He said, “I’m sending you a train ticket – pick it up, come back here, and we can get you some help.”

“It turned out that my pastor was a graduate of Helping Up Mission (HUM). When I realized it was a Spiritual Recovery Program (SRP), I knew that’s what I needed because I was spiritually broken.  So, I arrived in August 2018, and I have not looked back, and I have more joy today than I’ve ever had in my life.”

“At first, the hardest thing about being in this program was me. I was sensitive to authority. Now, I understand that people are put in positions to help and that I am here to get help. For example, I think I did every job the HUM has to offer. Free help and I was getting fired from free jobs! (Bobby belly laughs).”

“The easiest thing? Growing with God. Pastor Gary Byers taught bible classes, which planted a seed in me, just like when you start in the seed phase (first 45 days). Now I go to recovery classes at Mount Zion Baptist Church on East Belvedere.  My pastor is a very caring teacher.  He knows that I am now hungry for the word and breaks it down just like Pastor Gary did.”

Because of YOU Bobby has reconnected with his family. “My grandkids know who their grandpa is. They came to HUM with my son and left crying because they had to leave their “papa”.”

Bobby also credits his friends in the SRP for developing the rich relationships he has made in recovery. “We try not to keep our feelings locked inside by feeling weak, or less than a man – we let them out. Then you can laugh together and at the end of the day you’ll be laughing at yourself, too.”

“Today, I’m enrolled in college! My plan is to get a bachelor’s degree in culinary skills and teach underprivileged high school kids at my church’s school, so that they can take care of themselves and their families. Whatever you have been through, can be used for the good of helping someone else.  God can use all of us in ways that we don’t know, and I believe everybody’s story is intended for somebody else that crosses their path in life.”

Finally, Bobby would like to Thank You for your generosity. “With donors like you, the prosperity of the HUM is spiritually connected, because of all the good work that you do to provide for this spiritual program. “

 

Valeriy, 31, grew up in Nakhodka, a small seaside town in the Russian Far East. At age 7, his family emigrated to the United States, settling in Pennsylvania.  Coming from a close-knit community of people trying to get by, Valeriy was shaped by Russian culture in a positive way. However, adjustments from his upheaval at a young age contributed to stress and anxiety and without the proper coping skills to navigate his new way of life here in America.

At age 9, Valeriy planned to play basketball with friends after school. Unknowingly, at the same time, his father finished work early and wanted to spend some quality time with Valeriy, playing tennis. The misunderstanding led to his father, in a rage, beating him severely. Valeriy recalls, “This moment revealed my father’s abandonment issues and shaped my codependency. I didn’t want to get the crap beaten out of me again.”

“In high school I began playing soccer, which shaped my self-discipline. Due to “peer pressure” and in order to “fit in”, I started smoking marijuana and drinking alcohol.  While initially able to maintain classes and relationships, things got out of hand in college. I lived by myself, living off a bag of potato chips and marijuana. I figured that if I had those two things, why would I need anything else?”

After college, Valeriy got married and fathered a son. “We were so young and immature, we didn’t know how to communicate.  Marijuana gave me a fake euphoria; my culture made my identity as a father permanent.  My family didn’t believe in divorce. Eventually we separated and regardless of my father’s actions, my upbringing taught me how to be a father.

“I thought I could achieve more through drug use, but I developed paranoia, lost my ability to control my emotions, and people began manipulating me. Eventually, my actions were going to lead me to lose custody of my son.”  A moment of God’s grace.  “I was planning on going to my son’s Taekwondo belt ceremony. The night before, I thought that I would stay up all night on crystal meth, but fell asleep, and woke up right before the ceremony. Upon arrival, I was asked if I was high on drugs. My custody was at stake and I was tired of lying. I was sick. My spirit and happiness were gone. In order to enjoy my time with my son, I thought I had to be on drugs.

After I confessed, my ex-wife told me about Helping Up Mission, saying her ex-boyfriend had spent almost a year there. I interviewed for the recovery program but was told I needed to “detox” from the drugs before entering the program.  I stayed at my ex’s house for a week and returned to the mission in peace. I was raised Christian, so I view it like Daniel having peace in the lion’s den.”

“It wasn’t always easy. I didn’t see my son for the first six months, and dealing with being in the city can be difficult. But I didn’t struggle with the density. I was able to go on Equine Therapy retreats to a horse farm and enjoyed hiking trips on the Appalachian Trail, where at the end of the day we could sit around the fire and help each other out. I joined “Back on my Feet”, and now I love the city of Baltimore and its architecture. I studied Landscape Architecture in college, and I love the city’s open spaces.

HUM’s one-year Spiritual Recovery Program has helped me on my spiritual journey.  The answers are all in the Bible, reading it first and then putting the lessons into practice. Before I came to HUM, I knew about Jesus, I just didn’t know Jesus. I was never vulnerable to Him.  Like Daniel, take my attention off my problems and turn my focus to God.  Unfortunately, some damage had been done because of my past, but I can now love without fear.

Valeriy recognizes that plans do change.  “My plans have changed six times since I came to HUM. At first, my recovery was for my son. Then I was going to stay for two months, six months, and then I was going to get a job. But working in Overnight Guest Services (OGS) has slowed me down and taught me humility.  I have learned, with respect, to see our guests as persons and not a persona. I show them love, humor, sensitivity, and compassion. This humility allows me to sit still and not worry about a job right now.

“I used to build furniture by hand, and soon I will finish my CNC training through the Jane Addams Resource Corporation (JARC). My dream is to one day combine these two skills, move back to Pennsylvania, and open a shop, so that I may provide for my son and meet his basic needs. And to be his father.”

“I would like to thank the donors, this is an opportunity that God puts in their hearts to give. Please do not be discouraged to give a guy the chance to affect his life. This is a huge investment in our future.”

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Brian, 50, was born in the Eastern Panhandle of West Virginia. His father left the family coal company to work at Bethlehem Steel in Baltimore. When Brian was 11 his grandfather died, so his father needed to return to West Virginia to take over the business. Brian’s mother didn’t want to go, and chose to stay in Baltimore with Brian. “I felt that I did something wrong, because my father left,” Brian remembers.

Brian’s earliest addiction was money. “I thought my father left with everything, so I got a job to impress him. I was delivering papers, but I was also delivering drugs for my step-brother. There were times that he gave me $500 per week. When I was 16 years old, I went to Fox Chevrolet and paid $14,672 for a new Chevy van. My mother was so proud of me—she thought it was from delivering papers.”

“I worked hard and sold drugs. I was a functioning addict who used cocaine, but my mother was a nurse and she thought cocaine wasn’t addictive. I’d get clean for 60 days and then I’d start using again, but in my mind I wasn’t an addict. I started selling heroin and made fun of the people I sold to. As it turns out, my God has a sense of humor. I got hurt at work and needed back surgery. I started using Fentanyl patches and I was good to go, but when they said I didn’t need the medication anymore I started snorting dope. I became what I had judged.”

“Last year my mother got really sick. She was dying. She was in hospice and my family didn’t tell me because I was so messed up. Then my mother didn’t call me for my birthday, and I got worried. I later found a message from her—she had been in a coma and came out of it to look for me. I went to see her, but did dope in the bathroom while I was there. A nurse caught me and started crying. She said, “you’re killing your mother, get some help.” I didn’t know what to do. I’ll never forget the day I was with a girl, and the next thing I know I’m waking up from the inside of a rubber body bag. Paramedics hit me six times with Narcan. I haven’t seen that girl to this day, but if it wasn’t for her finding help I’d be dead. I knew that I had to do something, so I went to detox at Bayview. I was there for ten days when they usually only give you three. They suggested Helping Up Mission. The following Monday, at six o’clock in the morning, I was here. And I’ve been here ever since.”

“I decided that I was going to succeed. I started going to meetings every night of the week and bringing new guys with me. I got a sponsor and I started doing step work. I read the Bible, especially the daily Proverbs. This program has given me the structure that I needed in my life. You have to change the way you’re living. Today, I can walk through things instead of around them, even when it’s not great. I want to be clean more than I want to be high no matter what.”

“Three weeks ago my mother died, but before she did I went to the hospital and said, “Mom, I love you.” She responded, “I love you too.” I said, “Mom, you’re going to be alright,” and she said, “No, you’re going to be alright. I love you,” and she closed her eyes. I came back to the HUM and dealt with it. It’s not easy, but life shows up. At my home group I celebrated a year clean with a couple hundred people there.”

Brian now runs the crew for HUM’s maintenance work therapy program. He helps with the interview process and brings guys in with the right skills. Brian says, “ it helps with their recovery, and I point them in the right direction. I’ve got guys beating the door down at six o’clock in morning. I tell the guys to do everything that’s suggested, and they can’t tell me it doesn’t work.”

“Today, I get on my knees every day and say, ”Not my will but Yours be done.” I believe that this is what he wants me to do. I just take that little step, and God will take it the rest of the way. I don’t know how, I can’t see it, I can’t touch it. But I know it.”

For Adam, the loss of his father coupled with the weight of family obligations, steered him into dependence on painkillers and eventually heroin. In an attempt to free himself from the family construction business and escape tradition, Adam went to school to pursue a degree in Political Science. He intended to “fight for the underdog”.

Little did he know that the underdog he would ultimately fight for would be himself. After coming to Helping Up, Adam began to make peace with his past and his background. Once a high school track athlete, Adam even began running again. And now, he runs for recovery. He believes that “running is a metaphor, not just for recovery, but for life itself”.

Adam will be the first to tell you that “a journey of a thousand miles begins one step at a time. It doesn’t matter if you’re rich or poor. If you put your mind to it, you can finish the race”.

Adam grew up in Baltimore County, in a loving family that attended a strict church where music and toys were forbidden. His parents left the church when he was 12 and his father died unexpectedly when Adam was 18. The passing of his father and shortly thereafter his uncles rendered him without male figures. He was told that it was time to “man up,” and observe the Italian tradition of proper mourning.

He went to Virginia Tech to get a degree in Construction Management and follow in the footsteps of his late father, but his education was derailed after a marijuana possession arrest. At this time Adam decided to change his education goals and moved back home to study Political Science. He wanted to fight for the underdog.

During college Adam pursued the “normal” habits of a student and drank alcohol and dabbled in marijuana but functioned. At this time Adam had a daughter, graduated college and took two years off.

He started Law School at University of Baltimore and he “never got into it to make money,” as he “expected more social justice.” The reality of Law School quickly made him disenchanted. He was during this period when Adam started experimenting with painkillers. His using quickly became a dependency which led to headaches and even seizures. Adam remembers stockpiling the medication, which did not last long, spending too much money and then one day a friend told him, “heroin was cheaper.” And soon his life spiraled out of control.

Life now involved, falling asleep at the wheel, breaking and wrecking cars, and ruining the relationship he had with his daughter’s mother. This spiral resulted in Adam moving back home and even stealing from his mother. All the while still working and attending Law School.

Inevitably Adam spent 30 days in Jail not thinking about the future, but how to get more heroin.

Helping Up Mission.

Upon arriving at HUM, Adam finally took the time to listen to his elders and just “sit still.” He started his work therapy in house keeping, which enabled him to satiate his desire to be of service. Today he is a graduate intern and he has been clean and sober for over a year.

Running

In October 2017 Adam started running for the first time since running high school track in 2002. “It doesn’t matter how fast you run, if you put your mind to it you can finish the race,” Adam transfixed in the metaphors like those in recovery tend to do. Physically he began to feel much better and working with HUM partner Back on My Feet enabled him to feel human. “We have great volunteers that give donations and help serve meals, In Back on My Feet, volunteers run with you, get to know you and your family, and actually treat you like people. Which is awesome, because most of us, for years have only been told that we are thieves, and liars, and criminals.”

Adam was focusing on running the 5k at the Baltimore Running Festival, but is now planning on running his first half-marathon!

Family

“My daughter’s mother would not let me in the house, my mother kicked me out, and my sister wouldn’t even talk to me,” Adam recalls. Fast forward, he returned from a week’s vacation – with his mom and sister, and his mom now lets him drive her car and stay at her house unsupervised! His sister communicates with him, and he even helps his daughter’s mother with stuff around her house!

His daughter would do an impression of Adam “sleeping at the wheel.” Now she cheers him on as he races and gave him a book entitled 50 Things I Love About My Daddy for Father’s Day. This “Mad-Lib” style book contains quotes such as “ I love how fast you run,” and “ I love that you never make me brush my teeth.” The transformation is really powerful when Adam honestly states, “ I knew I was being a terrible example, I was using just to be a bad dad, If I didn’t have the drugs I would be a dad at all.” Today, “Having a kid is the best adventure in the world, she is my inspiration!”

Today

Today Adam is on a spiritual walk. Helping other addicts or the homeless make him feel that “all of his messing up… can be for a purpose, positive. He quotes Paul’s letter to the Corinthians “the suffering of this present time are nothing compared to the glory that shall be restored to us.” 20 years from now Adam envisions his daughter realizing that he “was human, fell and got back up” Adam knows that he has “a long way to go,” but with the “support of the people who have gone through it already,’ it will help him get to the point that he can do it on his own.

Adam believes like Jesus said” it is mercy when a man can be who he deserves to be.”

 

Eric is 40 years old and from West Baltimore, but moved to Carol County as a child. He explains that his parents were good people and he wanted to be like them. Eric was a good student, and his goal was to become a police officer after college. He recalls, “I wanted to be a detective. I always wanted to protect everything around me and police did that.”

Eric started using at the age of 14 when he saw the cool kids using, and he wanted to be like them. Not long after, he began getting drugs from the city for his friends in the county. Despite his drug use, he managed to continue through school with good grades. He had a teacher who noticed something was going on and confronted him. Eric remembers, “She told me she would help me in any way.”

Shortly after graduation, he was charged with robbery and assault. Although the charges were eventually dropped, Eric was no longer able to attend college to become a police officer. Before he could start college again, Eric got into a street fight and ended up in jail for robbery.

Eric moved to New York to be with the mother of his child and began a pattern of drinking and bad decision making. When he returned to Baltimore, his mother died, and Eric went on a six-month drug run. He explains, “Literally, I was trying to die.” He tried to get clean but instead became addicted to heroin. He and his girlfriend had their children taken from them because of the drugs.

He went through several cycles of getting clean and then messing up. In 2015, he got clean again and was clean until he was in an accident. The doctor prescribed pain medicine and Eric refused to take it at first. Eventually, he was in so much pain that he started taking the pills. After about a week of taking the pills, he decided to come to HUM. Eric said, “I knew I was getting ready to go on a run.” He could tell he was losing control and knew he needed help.

When he came to HUM, Eric “saw people making it. I saw people making themselves make it. I saw there was a whole lot going on in one building.” Even though he didn’t need the majority of what was offered at HUM, he was impressed. He had a place to live and the ability to leave, but Eric decided to stick it out to see what would happen and recently graduated.

Eric shares that he is sure that, “you cannot skip the struggle. That is where the personality is built. That is where the character is built. Anybody, anywhere that skips any struggle when they fall on their face, they are lucky if they get up again. People are dying from that.”

Eric is now the overdose outreach advocate at a nationally known hospital. He goes out into the places of need to help those struggling with addiction and tries to share hope with them. “I care about people seeing who they can be,” Eric explains. He likes providing options. “When I was in the midst of everything, there were no options. You wake up every day, and your intent has to be get money or be prepared to die. I have choices nowadays.”

He believes there is something at HUM that is special. There is no reason this many men who would never even speak to each other in the street can get along at the mission.

Eric feels like he is living right now to help others out. “I feel like my existence right now on this earth is if I am not making it better, don’t touch it.” He is thankful that he got to meet every single person that he met at HUM. When asked about his plans, Eric explains, “I want to try to share the hope that I learned. To me it is real.”

Listen to Eric tell his story on our podcast.

James, 50 years old, is originally from South Carolina. He moved to Baltimore at the age of 14 and started drinking to fit in. Then he saw others using heroin and thought they looked cool. From the time he was 18, he was stealing, lying, and his life was about drinking and drugs.

In 2016, James was living in the woods in South Carolina and found out that his daughter had passed away. He was supposed to come to Maryland to help with his grandchildren, but did not. He recalls, “I couldn’t come right away because I was too wrapped up into using and drinking, just not doing the right things.” He was hoping to get sober on his own and then come to Baltimore, but kept going back to the familiar and kept using. A couple of months later, his granddaughter was about to be put in foster care, so he decided to come to Maryland. A friend tried to help get him into treatment and offered to help pay for the trip.

While James was waiting for the train to Baltimore, he saw someone he knew and decided to go with him to get a bite to eat and a couple of drinks for the train ride. He explains, “The next thing I know I was waking up in [the] hospital. They had robbed me and stabbed me and pushed me out the car on the side of the road. [They] left me for dead. It was pretty bad. I couldn’t walk for about two months; I had to learn how to walk again.”

Once he was able, James felt determined to come to Baltimore to see his granddaughter. When he got off the train, James had a seizure and ended up at the University of Maryland hospital. There, someone told him about Helping Up Mission, which at the time, did not interest him.

He explains, “This addiction was beating at me. I felt like I just couldn’t function, I couldn’t be normal unless I had something in me.” So, the next morning, he went to the liquor store and then found a familiar spot under a bridge. That night he had another seizure and was back in the hospital.

Again, the hospital worker told him about HUM and offered to give him a referral. James took the address down and decided he needed to change. He walked to the Mission, hoping that he would not get turned away. At first, he stayed in Overnight Guests Services. James explains, “All I can remember is just being dirty and nasty and wanting to be to myself. I think I was more afraid than anything. I don’t think I was really quite sure whether I was really ready to stop.”

The guys all helped make sure he was okay and got him what he needed. He explains, “They kind of made me feel comfortable.” He admits that he was going through some insecurity problems and wasn’t very patient. He was about to leave when one of the guys encouraged him to give it a chance. “Ever since then, I just dug in, I dug in deep.” When he didn’t believe he could do it, his friend told him just to give it until tomorrow. James points out that his friend Jeffery is his special angel because he would not give up on James.

Once he started going to the classes and met with his counselor, James began to feel comfortable. The counselor helped him with his grief over losing his daughter and encouraged him to trust people again after the stabbing.

Be patient, buckle down, and keep moving forward

Throughout his time at HUM, James focused on getting custody of his granddaughter. He had a lot in his background that made the process challenging. Despite the frustrations, he learned to be patient, buckle down, and keep moving forward. James explains, “The HUM has taught me that. Those are some of the tools they have given me and showed me how to use. I just cannot thank the people around here [at HUM] enough. It is awesome.”

I thought I was going to die in the streets

James also knows that, “[HUM] helped me learn how to get connected to God again.” He grew up in the church, but shares, “I got disconnected with the church in my late twenties. Now, I know that [God] has had his hands on me the entire way. It took me to get clean and sober to recognize that. I closed my mind on that for a long time, but since being here and going to chapel every morning and hearing the word, I believe. I can feel it in my bones. He took an old, wretched guy like myself from out the woods and under the bridge and put me in a house, clean and sober. It is unbelievable. I never thought it would happen. I thought I was going to die in the streets; it is all I knew. It is all I loved.”

James has a new life and is renewing his relationships. He has a job working in a warehouse and enjoys it. James also has a place of his own and is ready to make a home for his family. He shares, “I never thought I would be where I am at now.” James is also thankful that his family never stopped believing in him and explains, “Now today…they are always saying, ‘You are back to yourself.’” Thanks to you, James has a chance at a fresh start.

Robert is 67 years old and just recently celebrated three years of hope being clean and sober after fifty-two years of addiction. Better known as Blue by everyone at HUM, he explains that someone once joked about him being one of the Blues Brothers and while he didn’t see the resemblance, he loves the blues so he let the nickname stick.

Blue was born in 1950 in Baltimore. He started drinking and smoking by the time he was twelve. At the age of fifteen, a friend’s older brother introduced him to heroin. He explains, “It was just the sixties. I was a hippy. I was high through the whole time. When I wasn’t sleeping, I was getting high off of something.”

Blue recalls, “This is the era of Vietnam with the draft. So, guys like me didn’t really have anything to look forward to. None of us wanted to fight in some jungle that didn’t make sense. So, when I went down to the draft board I was extremely high, and I never got drafted.”

Blue was arrested for possession of heroin.

In 1968, a month after graduating high school, Blue was arrested for possession of heroin. Blue said, “I went on methadone after I got busted. My mother and father didn’t have a clue what to do.” They took him to a psychiatrist who prescribed the methadone.

During this time, he met his wife and fell in love. They were both on methadone for ten years, and then he detoxed off of it. His wife was taken off of it abruptly and overdosed a few days later. Blue gave her CPR and brought her back to life. After a few days she overdosed again, and this time, he could not bring her back. Blue was devastated and did his best to bring up his daughters without their mother.

“I got high for fifty-two years.”

Blue explains, “I was jumping from one thing to another. I was in a program; I wasn’t in a program. I was shooting dope; I wasn’t shooting dope. I was drinking because I would go to that when I didn’t want to do dope because I would get strung out on it. I smoked a lot of weed. I got high for fifty-two years. I didn’t get high off of any one thing for fifty-two years, but I was getting high off of something for fifty-two years. I didn’t go three months where I didn’t get high a couple of times.”

“I got so cold.”

In 2000, Blue lost his job because he was shooting dope and couldn’t work without it. He ended up homeless and set up a makeshift shelter between two buildings. After about a year of living on the streets, he found an old broken-down hearse in a parking lot. The back was unlocked and he moved in. He remembers, “I almost froze to death on Christmas Eve in 2004. I was dope sick. I didn’t have any money. I went into the back of the hearse and covered up with every piece of clothing and blanket that I had. I got so cold. I will never forget that.” He went into a shop and sat there to try to warm up, but was forced to leave. As he was walking down the street, a lady saw he was distressed and let him sleep on her couch and get warm. “It was quite a Christmas. It is not something I am trying to go back to ever. When I see [homeless] guys come in here at night, I know what it is like.”

Blue had been in and out of programs so many times

In January 2014, Blue went to Bayview Hospital to detox. He had lost so much weight and gotten into such bad shape that he couldn’t walk. He was sent to a rehab center to regain the ability to walk. He was physically getting better. But in September of 2014, he took some pills and drank a pint of vodka and woke up in an ambulance on the way to St. Agnes. The social worker at St. Agnes told Blue’s wife about HUM. He had been in and out of programs so many times and had always focused on the physical and mental health side, but never had he thought about the spiritual aspect of recovery. When he arrived at HUM, they told him that it was a year-long program and he was not ready to commit to that. He admits that he thought, “Oh no! I am gone. I headed to the door. The only reason I came back is because my wife stayed at the desk and stared at me.”

“I was in really bad shape, really.”

The first three or four months Blue struggled and did not sleep much. “I was in really bad shape, really.” When asked what changed for him, he explains, “I stopped fighting God. It sounds like something you would say because it sounds good. Just the difference of not having to fight.” His entire life he had been an agnostic. He could not explain the existence of God and the existence of bad things at the same time. Now he says, “It has been a relief not to have to understand, I know what I know. I learn what I can. I help whoever I can. I do the best I can.”

Each week, at the graduation chapel, Blue sits in the same place and jumps up to give a hug and hope to those who are celebrating their graduation from the one-year Spiritual Recovery Program. He explains, “I feel very strongly emotionally about what is happening here. I know what it took for me to do it – to come in here and go for a year. I’ve been out there for so many years, and I’ve seen how this struggle is with drugs and alcohol. To me, a year is a miracle. So, yeah, I hug them guys when they make that year because you started something, and you finished it. We don’t do that a lot. We’re good at starting things, but not finishing them.”

“I came to understand that God kept me around…”

Blue is a graduate intern here at HUM as a Treatment Coordinator Assistant and sees his role now as to help others who are struggling to get clean. “I came to understand that God kept me around through all that stuff. God let me survive all of that. So what’s the purpose? I am 67 years old. I spent 52 of those 67 years getting high off of everything. So, I can look at my life in two ways; I’ve wasted my whole life. Or no, I’ve put 52 years of hard experience to understand the stuff nowadays. So, I choose the second.”

Blue is well known at HUM. He explains, “I am a firm believer that the small things in life make the difference. The big [things] are going to happen to everyone. The little ones are gifts. When someone talks to you and they actually care, it’s something you remember. It can make a huge difference in the rest of your day. It might make a difference in the rest of your life. Care might be the difference between life and death.” This New Year, Blue will continue to do what he can to offer hope to the hurting.

“I was using drugs for so long that I didn’t know how to live without them.”

Dustin was a Baltimore City firefighter when he fell through a flight of stairs and was injured. He was prescribed pain pills to help him recover, and “started needing more and more.”

“When I couldn’t pass the physical to go back to the department, the insurance got cut off, which means the doctor got cut off. I realized I was addicted and started feeling the withdrawal.” So, Dustin started buying pain pills on the street. When he couldn’t get them anymore, a buddy suggested trying heroin as a stronger and cheaper alternative.

He woke up one morning and couldn’t find any drugs. He remembers, “I was sitting around, hating myself, and hating life. I cursed God a lot and was wondering what went wrong.” A week earlier his sister and mom had tried an intervention. Dustin decided to try to detox and went to Bayview Hospital. He was in there for seven days when a social worker, “an angel on my shoulder” as Dustin puts it, came to him and explained that he needed to do something or he would die. She told him about Helping Up Mission and showed him videos of the Mission on YouTube, but he still wasn’t sure.

Eventually, Dustin decided to come to HUM. He remembers, “When the cab pulled up out front, I was scared and nervous. I was still sore and feeling [the effects of withdrawal]. I was using drugs for so long that I didn’t know how to live without them.”

At first, a year seemed daunting, but after three months of going to classes and chapel, he decided he wanted to stay. “I liked the way I was feeling. Every time I would see [my mom]; she would say ‘You’re looking good. You’re walking tall now. Keep it up.’”

“I started building a strong support network. I was making good friends. We started playing softball together. We were all learning to live again, learning to play again, learning to have fun again. Besides my family, the friends that I made here that are still my friends today; I consider them family now. There is no way we would be where we are now without each other’s support. We still hold each other accountable every day.”

When he came to HUM, Dustin knew his mother had terminal cancer. The time they had together while he was going through recovery allowed them to get to know each other better than ever before. Dustin remembers, “It was kind of a blessing that we knew she was terminal and we got to know each other [again]…it was liberating. One Sunday I visited her, and they did a church service in the cafeteria at the nursing home. We prayed together there for the first time probably since I was a little boy. I still remember that.”

After about six months, as Dustin was beginning to get his life together, he got a phone call that his four-year-old son had pneumonia and was in the hospital. Although they thought he was getting better, he did not begin to breathe on his own when the hospital removed the ventilator. Dustin was on his way to say his goodbyes to his son when his friends rallied around him. They wouldn’t let him go the hospital on his own. They were with him and went through the painful time with Dustin. While he was numb and thought about using again, he didn’t want to lose all of his progress and all the trust he had built back up. He didn’t want to disappoint those who believed in him. “I loved to see the look on my mom’s face. I loved that my daughter smiles back at me now.”

His mom’s health was deteriorating, and she could not make it to his son’s funeral. Three weeks later, Dustin’s sister called to say that his mother only had a day or two left. He and his sister spent the night with his mom as she passed away. “I just felt gratitude. If I would have picked up [and started using] after my son passed away, then I wouldn’t have been able to be there with my mom. It just kind of put everything in perspective for me. As hard as it was, it was peaceful. We were able to be there with her. I was clean and clear-minded. I was at peace, and she was at peace.”

Dustin explained how he continued his recovery during this difficult time. “I leaned on my network. That is a big part of my story; I had that positive network.” He remembers, “It was hard at first. All I knew is that I had to keep moving forward.” A few days after his mom had passed away, Mike Rallo encouraged Dustin to share his story with the new guys at HUM. “It was an emotional day. When I walked out of there, I just felt a huge weight lifted off of my shoulders.” It was also an opportunity for him to help others at HUM. “Before, I thought nobody’s going to learn from me.” Now he can see that others learn from his struggles and how he got through it.

Dustin graduated in November of 2015. Shortly after graduation, Dustin and his close friends were all offered staff positions at HUM. He recalls, “To be able to give back to a place that saved all of our lives, it was awesome.” He continues, “It’s about the guys that are here in the program. Just to be able to give back to them, it’s a special place, and I feel it when I walk in here.”

Dustin has a new life after coming to HUM. In August, he had a new a life come into the world when he and his wife had a baby boy. “Hopefully I went through the struggles so he won’t have to.” Dustin’s daughter is eleven now, and he gets to be there for her, too. “I love being a dad.”

Dustin says that those who support HUM matter. “You save lives every day. I’m not just thankful, but I’m sure my family is. I’m sure my kids are. I’m sure my mom was thankful to have her son for her last six months – her real son, not her son who was showing up high.”

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