It's not easy waiting in line outside in the rain or snow or cold, trying to get some services. I understand how it is to be treated with no respect because you look a certain way. I also understand there's hope. If I can change my life, I believe anybody can.
-- Will Thomas, staff member, Paul's Place outreach center, Southwest Baltimore
A cold rain is falling in Pigtown, a forever-poor part of Southwest Baltimore where recessions don't come and go; they just lessen and worsen. From the lunchroom at Paul's Place outreach center, huddled forms are visible on Ward Street - men and women trying to stay dry until the doors open for a free meal of beef-and-rice casserole.
Lunch is a ways off yet. The only folks in the room are a dozen volunteers called "ambassadors." Some have battled addiction; some cope with mental disability. In return for Safeway gift cards and the like, they help out at the nonprofit center. It's a way for them to do good, feel good, fill the hours and gain skills toward a possible paying job.
Will Thomas stands before them, a soft-spoken 50-year-old with a towering presence. A solid 6-foot-9, he still bears some resemblance to the college hoops player he once was, before his slide turned him into a homeless crackhead. More than anyone, he keeps Paul's Place humming.
On this wet morning, he's been lending a hand to Regina Sykes, 47, the Paul's Place receptionist. She is undergoing care for lung cancer but has no car, so Thomas picks her up at the University of Maryland Medical Center after her treatment.
In a hallway off the lunchroom, she confides that Thomas was the first person she told of her diagnosis. And he told her: "Anything I can do for you, I'll be there." She tears up at the memory. "Without him," she says, "I really wouldn't have anybody to do this."
Thomas, who is the ambassador volunteer coordinator, announces that it's time for the daily readings. Up walks Dolly Miller, clean nine months now. "I am my most important critic," she begins, aided by Thomas when a word like "opinion" trips her up. Miller, 50, counts on his support in other ways as well: He sponsors her at Narcotics Anonymous meetings.
"Who I see in my imagination will always rule my world," she concludes. "The powerful image I create will be the image I project."
"Good job," Thomas says quietly as the others erupt in applause and cheers. "Hey, Dolly," shouts one fellow ambassador, "you did it!"
