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This is Ralph’s story. Ralph is from PEI, from a family of 11 kids whom, for the most part, is estranged from. Ralph “fell into the wrong crowd” and dropped out of school far too early and came to Hamilton in the 70’s. He started drinking and doing drugs at a very early age and found himself an addict a few years later.

He did marry and have a son, however, was divorced some years later. This is when things went downhill for Ralph. He was diagnosed as bi-polar and spent years trying to figure out meds that would work for him. He self medicated with pot and took himself off prescription drugs often. He was even hospitalized and was given electric shock treatments among other treatments. He struggled with drug and alcohol addiction and being bi-polar. Ralph is aware of the terrible stigma that comes with a bi-polar diagnosis. It’s a fact, mental illness is the #1 cause of homelessness.

Ralph was on disability due to his bi-polar diagnosis and was unable to make ends meet. He found himself homeless, first living for 9 months at the Salvation Army, then at the Y until he had no choice, due to his COPD and needing oxygen, to get a subsidized apartment. In the meantime, in order to try and prioritize his meagre finances, and coincidentally living across the street from HOOTC, he started to frequent HOOTC to get a good hot meal. What he found there, other than good food and a few extra dollars to help him manage the rest of his needs, he found a welcoming second home. A place where he felt a part of the community, where he made long lasting friends. He can’t get there any longer because of his illness but he adores the people there and misses them immensely.

Ralph is a success story. He now has a home, his attitude is positive, he never abused the system, he used the system to get better. Mental health is the key reason he was homeless.

“I’m at the end of my life, I have nothing but time now. I’m so grateful to people like Cindy at HOOTC. I want to give back now”. He has spoken at schools and local synagogues set up by the people at HOOTC to speak about homelessness and mental health.

This is his way of giving back.

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Murray, who was unable to work due to an injury while he was doing a job painting, found himself homeless. During this time, Murray found shelter at men’s shelters and is a very resourceful guy. He learned the system in a positive way and was able to get out of the shelter system and now is passionate to advocate for others. He sees the pain people with homelessness and addiction endure and it’s his mission to be able to give back by improving the lives of these individuals and making sure they know how to navigate the system and get the help they so desperately need. He’s a no-nonsense kind of guy, shoots from the hip and ready to help anyone he can.

The people at HOOTC met Murray and have become one of his friends now. They are thrilled for all his accomplishments, most recently for getting his own apartment. Murray will always be welcome at HOOTC for a good hot meal and great conversation always. Thanks for all you do to help others Murray.

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No sooner did he mention his wife’s name than his eyes began to well up with tears. “You must miss your wife a lot,” my dad said. “Oh, a lot! Terrible!” he replied as he broke down into tears. Through a veil of tears, he told us what happened to her, “She died of lung cancer. We came back from Palm Springs. She went for her yearly physical, and the doctor said, ‘Your lungs are full of cancer. Terrible! She lasted thirteen nights…. My best friend! I didn’t remarry. She was the woman of my life.” Now Douglas, who is wheelchair bound, lives by himself on the streets in Toronto. “I hate it!” he told us dejectedly.

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So, um, I moved to Brampton, and the landlord ended up, ah, screwing over all the tenants, and, ah, he ended up getting a written notice but didn’t tell us tenants, and, ah, we all ended up on the streets on, ah, Christmas. So … I’ve been here since January.”

When I asked Melissa if the pandemic has made her life more difficult, she replied, “Yes, because, um, when I moved here, um, ah, I had moved here with the hopes of finding a place … um, I couldn’t find a place because, like, nobody wanted to rent out a place to anybody because of COVID-19.”

When we met Melissa, she was camping out at the corner of Queen St. and Victoria St. with her dog Tinkerbell. As it was minus ten degrees Celsius with the wind chill, my dad asked her if it was hard sleeping outside in the wintertime. She looked at him as if puzzled by his question, then replied, “Ah, well, I’m sitting on a heat grate right now.” She, then, lifted up a corner of the pile of blankets and sleeping bags that her and Tinkerbell were on, and said, “

Despite owning virtually nothing, Melissa told us that she is often the victim of theft. “I get robbed a lot,” she said dejectedly. “I swear I’m robbed once a month at least for everything I own. And it’s a little ridiculous sometimes…. And the homeless is not supposed to rob from the homeless. That’s the rule, you know? But a lot of them have a drug addiction, and that’s what makes them do it, right?” Then, looking down at the sleeping Tinkerbell, she exclaimed, “She’s the only thing that keeps me sane and alive. She’s my best friend! She is.”