Development

Cynthia's Story

With a grandfather who was a local policeman for 20 years, a first communion ceremony at St. Joseph’s, and even taking her first breath in the Hillcrest Hospital, Cynthia’s connection to Petaluma runs deep. 

While her early years were spent in Sebastapol, Cynthia could not be kept from returning to Petaluma as a young adult. Unfortunately, Cynthia soon fell into the clutches of addictive substances and the relationship with her parents and 3 siblings deteriorated. With her parents now living in Oregon, Cynthia found herself alone and in the deep pocket of addiction. For 37 years, Cynthia’s life was shaped by this dependency on Methamphetamine. During this time, Cynthia also faced the hardships of being homeless for approximately 10 years. 

When Cynthia was ready to get off the streets, she faced the harsh realities of long waiting lists and restrictive qualifications needed to enter a shelter. Thankfully, Cynthia found a spot at the Mary Isaak Center to start over and people who would support her journey. One person she recalls is the current COTS Program Director, Robin, chuckling as she stated, “Oh I love Robin now. Sorry, Robin. But she was very hard on me at first.” This “Tough Love” allowed Cynthia to start working with her Care Team as she moved from the Mary Isaak Center to People’s Village, and finally out to permanent housing at Studios at Montero (SAM).  

People’s Village provided Cynthia with personal space, privacy, and new friends like Stacie, COTS People’s Village Services Manager. Cynthia liked living in People’s Village but knew she could not stay there forever. With the help of her Care Team, Cynthia secured a housing voucher and was able to move into SAM’s affordable housing, where she still lives today.  

Cynthia has recently been diagnosed with congestive heart failure but is able to access medical help through the support services offered through SAM and is excitedly looking forward to living out the rest of her years in her beloved town of Petaluma. 

by Development

Rex's Story

Rex Robinette was eleven years old when his sister Laura was born in 1963. “We shared a special relationship,” Laura says, “because my mom allowed him to pick my name.”

The eldest of the family, Rex was a model older brother to Laura and their brother Gary. Rex took Laura to the zoo and the Cleveland Orchestra. “I have no negative memories of him. He was a positive, happy force,” Laura says.

One family photo shows him, a handsome, clean-cut teenager, with his hands protectively on Laura’s shoulders. In another, he stands proudly in his army uniform on the staircase of the family home in Cleveland, OH. On the advice of his father, a veteran himself, Rex joined the army before being drafted in the hopes of getting a better assignment. In 1971, he left Cleveland and his little sister for Vietnam. He was 18 years old.

For Rex and Laura, nothing was ever the same again.

During his leaves over the years, Rex described being yelled at and spit at by protesters or people walking by. He told the family that in training at Ft. Bragg, officers told soldiers that if anyone threw a baby at them, not to catch it because the baby could be tied with explosives. By the time he came back from the service in ‘74, Laura remembers him being glad to be home – at the time, he still seemed like the Rex she remembers.

But soon, he started sleeping a lot, growing his hair long. Slowly, Rex started to change.

Then one day, three years after returning home from Vietnam, Rex disappeared.

Through family networks, Laura’s parents discovered that Rex and his girlfriend had left for California. They were living in their car and selling blood to get by. Rex’s mother asked a friend to pass a message on: Call home. We love you. We’re not angry. We just want to know you’re ok.

But Rex never called.

For nearly forty years, the family only heard rumors about Rex’s whereabouts. Then, last December, Laura visited the graves of her parents with her grown son, Drew.

Drew can remember the day clearly. He was visiting family in Ohio for Christmas. Standing in the cold at his grandparents’ graves, Drew was overwhelmed with curiosity about his unknown uncle Rex. While Rex had left the family before Drew was born, he had grown up with stories about his mother’s beloved big brother. Drew felt that people don’t just fall off the face of the earth – something must have happened to him. In that moment, in the northeast Ohio cold, he decided to find Rex.

Drew didn’t have any information besides his uncle’s full name, but he started googling. By early February, he had found 16 or more phone numbers associated with Rex’s name and several addresses. Drew called every apartment building and followed a variety of leads. But he still hadn’t broached the subject of Rex with his mom. Finally, out of options, he asked Laura for Rex’s social security number and date of birth. He told his mom he would either find Rex or hire an investigator.

With the new information, Drew found Rex’s military record. He had earned a parachute badge and an expert infantryman badge. The record also showed that Rex had gone AWOL and was granted a general discharge – indicating that there was something that prevented Rex from performing his duties adequately. Drew suspects that he was told his unit was going to deploy, and he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Drew says, “It’s almost funny to describe my search for him because I searched everywhere…I got frustrated to the point of tears.” He says that finding his uncle became an almost obsessive pursuit. “I felt like I needed to find him.”

Through the summer, Drew continued to make progress and hired a private investigator to help complete the search. He and Laura grew more hopeful of finding Rex.

On August 2^nd, the report from the investigator arrived by email. Throughout the last six months, all the evidence indicated that Rex was still alive. But that day, the investigator’s report revealed that Rex had passed away that June – while Drew was actively searching for him.

Drew was devastated. Even though he knew it was unlikely, Drew had been envisioning some level of closure for the family.

Drew broke the news to his mom the next Sunday. She took it hard, and the glimmer of hope that she’d held on to for years was lost. But Laura knew that she could still bring Rex home, and possibly find out something about his life from his belongings. That day, they began planning to fly out to CA.

Robin Phoenix knew Rex well during his time here. He was served by several members of our case management team and was popular around COTS’ campus.

“He had a wicked sense of humor, a kindness buried deep within,” says Robin,
“and his smile was absolutely contagious… Even though his heart at times was broken, he was so stoic, he was literally liked by all residents and guests. Everyone knew Rex and was drawn to him for one good reason or another.”

Robin describes him as deeply wounded by his experience as a sniper in the service, with severe PTSD that left him with delusions and paranoia. “He cared about keeping our shelter clean and did without anyone asking him to do so,” says Robin. “The difficulty was his refusing to get the support he needed to process the horrors he faced during his time in the service.”

After a long shelter stay, Rex was finally able to move into Veterans housing at Benton Village thanks to his case management team at COTS. Once he was housed, Sarah Vetter, COTS’ Supportive Housing Staff Member, still checked in with him and helped him remain housed. “We worked on a lot of things,” Sarah says, “but mainly getting glasses, grocery shopping, picking up medications…and assisting him in understanding his cell phone. I took him to pay his rent every month as well.”

Despite his housing success, Rex continued to isolate himself when he was sad or feeling unwell. “I learned that if I brought my dog, Sugar, he would come out regardless,” says Sarah. “He loved her more than anything. He liked to take her to the dog park with me on the way back from grocery shopping. He would also get McDonald’s and of course, share it with her.”

Drew and Laura were able to fly out to Sonoma County and visit both COTS and Benton Village. They were able to speak with those who knew him in his final years and shared stories about Rex’s past that helped our staff understand him better, too.

In Rex’s apartment, Laura found his discharge papers among his possessions which helped Laura to understand what her brother had gone through during Vietnam. His after-visit summaries showed Rex suffered from delusions and paranoid psychosis – a diagnosis that was painful for Laura to read but showed her that he was no longer the young man she had known growing up. Drew and Laura also found plenty of books, and Laura reminisced about how Rex had always been a reader. During his teenage years, she said, “If he wasn’t at school, he was at the library.”

When Laura cleared out his closet, she sat among his belongings to try and feel his presence. Then she hugged his clothes to say goodbye.

During their visit, Laura was able to sign for Rex’s cremated remains. “I was able to allow him to leave the coroner’s office with dignity.”

During their childhoods, Laura and Rex shared memories together at a family property in West Virginia by the river. Laura and Drew spread his ashes there in October of this year, and the family hopes Rex is now at peace in a place he once called home.

With their long search now over, Drew and Laura expressed gratitude for people like Sarah, Robin, and Gaby Baum of Benton Village who were kind to Rex during the last three years of his life. Most of all, Drew hopes that anyone else reading this who might be looking for a lost family member takes this away: “You can find them. It’s possible.”

by Development

James' Story

As a self-described hard-headed child, former COTS client, James has always been determined to make his dreams come true.  However, the cards of life have not always fallen in his favor.

James was working in Oregon when he had an opportunity to move to California. Unfortunately, soon after moving, he became badly injured. An infection enveloped his foot, making walking hard and working nearly impossible. James was injured, sick, living in a tent outside, and constantly visiting the hospital for his health.

Eventually, James received medical attention and was told about COTS’ Recuperative Care Unit (RC). James warily agreed he needed help and came into COTS’ RC. Quickly, he was astounded by the level of care he was given, stating, “They got me taken care of, like a king.” For the next few months, James stayed in RC. He was able to attend all necessary doctor appointments, heal, nourish his body, and build friendships with many of COTS’ staff. “This shelter helped me. This shelter showed me how to live.”

He recalls what made him change his hard-headed ways and start listening to the advice of COTS’ Staff. "There was understanding and [they] showed that somebody did care about you. [They] showed someone was willing to help you [even if] you’re like me and can’t read or write. . . Because I listened to what these people told me to do, I made it. If I hadn't listened to these people, I wouldn't have ever made it.”

(Pictured below: James and COTS' People’s Village Services Manager Stacie Questoni)

James stayed in RC until he was able to move into a little house in COTS’ People’s Village. Then, he began diligently working with COTS’ client services and the case managers to file all the appropriate paperwork he needed to eventually secure his own housing. Due to his age, James was also able to file for social security and retire. Praising the staff for getting him to where he is today, James says, “They just [kept] me focused. I had someone to talk to [and it] meant a lot. They [told me] which way was the right way and which way was the wrong way. If they saw me going [the wrong way] they stopped me and corrected me. [They] put me back on the right track.” He credits everyone he met at COTS: Sean Andrews, Chris Inclan, Stacie Questoni, Robin Phoenix, Fionn Robertson, Chef Janin, and many more former and current COTS staff members for “getting him to the top.”

Finally healed and freshly retired, James was able to start saving money for an apartment deposit. He worked small jobs to supplement his social security and after around six months, James was ready. With his saved cash in hand, he was able to secure the apartment he still calls home today and begin dreaming big again.

Despite James facing more health difficulties as he gets older, he still has a big dream of opening his own business that will hire people to clean yards, windows, and other chores that he once did to earn money. He wants to give people the chance that COTS gave him and does not hesitate to give those he sees struggling a few dollars when he can.

But James does more than help people out with money, he seeks to inspire those around him to get help as well. He shares his story with anyone who wants to hear it, often laughing at people’s disbelief that he was able to go from a man who could barely walk to where he is today. “They look at me and they don't believe it. They look back, [to when I had nothing and] now I've got my own place to live. I’ve bought me a motorcycle and I’m still saving up. I might buy me a house one day or a little piece of property and build a little house. If I can do it, anybody can do it!”

by Development