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Stacey was living in her car when the City's homeless reunification workers reached out. She was recovering from a stroke and wanted to go home. But there was a snag: a dog named Monster and a cat named Sneakers.
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A November chill was in the air when Hashim Rhodes got the call from the 911 dispatcher. Someone reported a woman living in her car in the Brentwood-Darlington neighborhood. Could he do a welfare check?
Rhodes gets plenty of calls like this. As a community health worker for Portland Street Response, his job is to engage with folks in crisis and connect them to resources.
He spotted a Volvo station wagon with expired tags on a gravel road near Southeast 76th and Flavel. The woman inside spoke haltingly, her words garbled and distorted.
He asked for her name, but couldn't understand what she said. She tried again. And again.
"Take your time," he told her. "I'm listening."
Finally he caught it.
"Stacey?" he asked.
"Stacey," she said, and burst into tears.
[Stacey graciously agreed to let us share her story on condition that we not use her surname so as to protect her privacy.]
As she struggled for words, Rhodes pieced the jigsaw together. She had been living in Portland for a month or so. She had been staying in a house nearby when she suffered two strokes – which made speech extremely difficult. Her housemates kicked her out because she couldn't keep her room picked up. Now she was living in the Volvo, along with her dog, Monster, and her cat, Sneakers.
Rhodes was worried. Stacey could barely communicate. She had no visible means of support. Her animals seemed content and well cared for, but how long could she possibly live in her car?
One thing kept breaking through the sobs and frustration. "I want to go home," she told him. "I just want to go home."
That's when a lightbulb went off in Rhodes' head.
Portland's reunification program is designed to help homeless Portlanders reconnect with family or friends who can provide a secure, stable, loving environment to help them get back on their feet. The program has helped more than 200 people so far this year.
The idea isn't new. Similar programs have been around Portland for many years. And it isn't right for everyone. Sometimes family members don't have the resources or skills needed to provide the care a person needs. But if everyone involved is ready and willing, reunification can be a life-changer.
Did Stacey have family or friends she could live with? Rhodes asked. The answer was yes. Her cousin Regina, back home in Springfield, Missouri.
Rhodes called Nate Takara, the city worker in charge of the reunification program, and gave him the rundown. Several key elements were in place. Stacey wanted to go. Cousin Regina could offer a warm, loving home. Takara had money in the budget to cover airfare. There was just one snag: Monster and Sneakers.
People who are homeless, like everyone else, find joy, love, and companionship in their pets. Their bonds with their animals sustain them when everything else is falling apart. But pets can pose logistical challenges, too. In Stacey's case, the challenge was how to get a dog and cat to Missouri.
Rhodes asked Stacey if she'd be willing to go home without her pets while he and Takara worked out a solution.
The answer was a hard no.
"She was dead set on that," Rhodes says. "She said, ‘I got to take care of my babies.' I explained that if we can get you stable, if we can get you housed, then we can work on the pets. Right now you can't take care of them. She didn't care what I said. She wouldn't think of leaving them."
Reluctantly, Rhodes walked back to his truck to answer the next call. Later that day, he got good news from Takara. American Airlines would fly Stacey to Missouri with one animal – so long as it was small enough to fit in a carrier under the seat.
Rhodes was elated. But when he went back to find Stacey, the car was gone. He looked up and down the streets in the neighborhood. No sign.
The next day, he got another dispatch from 911. Someone spotted a distressed woman wandering along Southeast 82nd Avenue. He soon found Stacey, Monster and Sneakers sitting on the sidewalk near the Tik Tok Restaurant. She told him she was going to hitchhike back to Missouri.
"I told her, we found a way to transport one animal," Rhodes says. "But not two. Can we foster one of your pets so you can go home with the other one? Let's take care of you first, let's get you to a better place, and then let's take care of the animals."
Rhodes sized up the two pets while they talked. The airline's limit was 20 pounds and 12 inches tall. He thought either pet could qualify. But Stacey was adamant. She would not leave her babies.
Then Rhodes had an idea. He got Cousin Regina on the line. Maybe she could help persuade Stacey to come home.
"I want you to come home now," Regina told Stacey. "Can't we figure this out?"
Finally, Stacey agreed to allow Sneakers to be fostered for a few weeks until she could get settled in Missouri.
Things started to come together. Stacey spent a couple nights in a hotel by the airport. Takara bought her a plane ticket, rustled up a dog carrier, and got dog food for Monster. Rhodes found a temporary home for Sneakers and arranged a ride for Stacey. The three of them went to the American Airlines ticket counter and checked Stacey in. The staff at the airport made extra effort to smooth the way.
As they made their way toward the security checkpoint, Rhodes noticed that Monster, who was usually so relaxed and friendly, was more and more agitated inside his carrier. He wouldn't calm down.
A moment later, they realized why. Monster had pooped in the carrier.
Stacey took the carrier to the bathroom to clean up the mess. But there was more drama at the gate. Stacey was carrying three items, but federal regulations only allow two. Stacey grew emotional. She was having trouble talking. Other passengers were rolling their eyes. Takara vanished and returned a moment later with a giant bag that was big enough to contain two smaller ones. Problem solved.
Finally, the flight began to board. They all said goodbye. Stacey gathered her belongings and lurched down the jetway. Rhodes and Takara stayed until the crew closed the door.
Relieved, they made their way back through the concourse to the parking lot. Then Takara's phone buzzed. It was a flight attendant on Stacey's plane. Some of the passengers were having a meltdown about the smell from Monster's carrier. They insisted that the carrier – and Monster – be taken off the flight.
Rhodes and Takara looked at each other.
How could they fix this? What if they took out the carrier's lining and swapped in something clean? Like what? Like a towel? There was no obvious place to get towels on Concourse C, but Takara ducked into a gift shop and bought a cheap sweatshirt to serve as a makeshift lining. They dashed back toward the gate, hearts pounding.
At the gate desk, they explained the situation to the two American Airlines customer service agents on duty: Jeannie D and Mona S.
Jeannie and Mona sprang into action. They moved Stacey to a seat with more space, spritzed some freshener in the cabin, and cranked up the air conditioning.
"I don't smell anything," Mona declared. "This lady's going home."
Rhodes blinked back a tear.
This time, he and Takara stood looking out the window until the ground crew pulled out the wheel chocks and the plane backed away from the gate.
Stacey and Monster made it to Cousin Regina's home safe and sound. Stacey got medical treatment for her strokes and has made a strong recovery. They celebrated Thanksgiving together as a family.
"She's living with me forever," Regina says. "She's not going away."
"I'm feeling so much better now," Stacey says. "I wouldn't be alive without Hashim and Nate," she says. "They helped me so much. I'm so glad to be home. Monster's glad, too."
And Sneakers? He had some adventures of his own. The foster home fell through, so Rhodes brought him to Multnomah County Animal Services, which boarded Sneakers until a relative could pick him up. Unfortunately, due to a mix-up at the shelter, Sneakers was scheduled to be put up for adoption. Takara made frantic phone calls. Eventually, Jeston Black, director of government relations for Multnomah County, found a way for Sneakers to stay a few more days until the relative collected him.
Stacey has been saving up to buy a plane ticket so her relative can bring Sneakers home to Missouri. In the meantime, she calls to talk to Sneakers every day.
"We're going to celebrate Christmas when he comes home," she said. "We belong together."