The charity’s conversion of a Santa Rosa motel and restaurant into a homeless shelter is underway

However, most residents interviewed said they were grateful to have accommodation to call their own.

“It’s a lot better than being on the street. It’s safe,” said Doris Darden, 65, one of two tenants working on computers in the former restaurant. (She was in a bad mood at the time because she found the paperwork frustrating, she said.)

Some, like Darden’s companion that day, 55-year-old Marcella Winston, admit it takes some getting used to the new surroundings.

“I’ve never lived in a situation like this before. These concrete walls, this small space. How do I navigate it?” – said Winston. “When you’re homeless for a long time, you forget about normal social skills, like doing laundry and whatever. And that’s the hardest thing: how to really learn to live.”

“I loved the streets”

One common topic in resident interviews is the lack of case management services that are intended to underpin permanent, supportive housing environments.

However, many Commons residents interviewed, even those who complained about sparse services, extol the virtues of one case manager – Luis or Hansen – often while complaining about the other.

There are often complaints about other residents and their drug use.

“They took these diverse people who had always been on the streets and put them under a roof so they could do more drugs than they already do. This place is a drug place, absolutely a drug place,” said one resident, who spoke on condition of anonymity because she feared retaliation.

Cynthia Ocampo of Santa Rosa, who lived in the village of Los Guilicos for several years before finding an apartment, said her brother lives in The Commons and she is afraid for him.

“It’s like they’re turning a blind eye, there are so many people on fentanyl there, I feel like my brother, he’s not safe there. He is safer on the streets,” Ocampo said.

“Every time I go to his room, I see a bunch of people on fentanyl. I already complained to the manager but security did nothing,” Ocampo said. – You can just go in there. Before, it looked like there was a curfew. Now they don’t even care.”

Her brother, Kevin Brown, described himself as an alcoholic and said he lived on the Joe Rodota Trail for six years and suffered from various serious illnesses. In an interview in a room filled with clothes, miscellaneous belongings and bottles of alcohol, Brown said, sipping a beer, that he wanted to move out.

A few weeks later, in another interview, he complained that management was trying to evict him for failing to pay his $50 monthly rent.

Weeks later, Brena was still trying to convince Brown to agree to a repayment plan.

“It’s not that we can’t help him by donating $50, but since we accept vouchers, it’s my job to make sure he pays his fair share,” Brena said. “Otherwise, I may be perceived as mismanaging federal funds.”

At the end of October, an anonymous donor paid off St. Vincent de Paul what he owed, and Baker was still a resident.

Residents can show understanding of the challenges staff face.

“I don’t envy this job,” said Megan Owens, 46.

But Owens, a resident since January, is also among those who say case management services — which cost St. Vincent de Paul $410,000 a year – are not what they should be.

“There are a lot of people here who are broken in so many different ways right now,” she said. “I’m really grateful that I have an apartment, but help me because I need help. And other people too.”

About a month after her first interview with a reporter, Darden put on a brightly colored dress and attended a meeting held on the program’s patio barbecue with residents and case managers from various local social service agencies.

Unlike the first interview, Darden – who has spent 23 years outdoors, many of them on the Joe Rodot trail – was in good spirits. She said she was happy in the House of Commons.

“I love the people, I mean most of the people here I’ve been on the streets with. And the people who run this place are amazing,” she said. “The hardest part: it’s like a little prison cell. Have you seen the rooms?

“But no,” she continued, “this place is amazing. And they help me. Of course, I am a drug addict and they are helping me start treatment.”

Darden added: “I loved the streets” and said that when she was first invited to the House of Commons she was hesitant to go because she has lung disease and cancer and needed a support network.

“I said, ‘I’m not going to live in a place where there have to be restrictions.’ I want my people to be able to visit me whenever they want because I’m dying.’”

She said the staff supported her.

“No one should come after 10 p.m. But that’s not enough. My people will come here all the time,” Darden said. “And they were really cool. They said, yes, it’s possible we can work on this because I’m dying.

Transformation

Mercedes Flores, who was homeless on the streets of Santa Rosa for 12 years, was dejected during her first job interview outside her room at The Commons, for which she pays $70 (price includes storage space).

She said she was concerned about homeless people who were coming to the property, making noise and causing trouble.

“I just close the door and stay alone. Me and my dog,” said Flores, 51, who moved into the House of Commons in January.

Flores added that she wanted to quit her three-year fentanyl addiction and had no luck.

A few weeks later, during a meeting for case managers and residents, she seemed like a different person.

She bustled back and forth, setting up foldable canopies on the patio with a barbecue. She was slicing limes at the taco truck. As the newly elected president of the tenants’ council, Flores had her hands full.

She estimated that she had reduced her fentanyl use by 85% and stated that she would soon undergo treatment to curb her drug cravings. He intends to take it just once and from then on, rely on himself if possible.

Flores said Hansen helped her obtain her state certification as a home support services worker, which means she can start making money outside of collecting cans and bottles.

“This is my foundation. This is where I can think about what I want to do, plan what I need to do, because I know my basic needs will be met,” Flores said. “My shower, sleep, food, nutrition. Now I don’t have to worry about that.”

Staff Writer Andrew Graham contributed to this story. Staff Writer Jeremy Hay can be reached at 707-387-2960 or [email protected]. On X (Twitter) @jeremyhay