Lyn Kaminski
I arrived in Denver Oct 5, 2015. I came to Colorado from Connecticut for personal reasons. After a few days in a motel I was running out of money. My apartment in Idaho Springs would not be ready until Nov 3. So I ended up staying at Holy Rosary Women’s Shelter of Samaritan House for three weeks.
This was a new experience for me as I had always had my own apartments in CT.
The staff for the most part were supportive. I did have trouble the third day with one young man.
They had a trailer where belongings were stored overnight, but had to be out in the morning. My belongings were too great for me to carry around all day and, as I am somewhat physically disabled, it would have been impossible for me to go anywhere with them. I told the young man I would have to sit outside the property on the sidewalk all day so as to not have my stuff stolen. He finally came up with a solution: store my stuff at a public storage facility a few blocks away. So this I did which depleted my funds considerably.
So here I am new to Colorado. No idea what to do all day. We are awakened at 5am and after breakfast have to leave by 7am not to return until 5:30 pm. A woman at the shelter told me about The Gathering Place but, how to get there. I finally found my way to St. Francis, where I spoke to a social worker. He was very helpful. I finally got a Colorado ID and bus passes and directions to The Gathering Place to get a shower and a lunch.
At Samaritan House there were frequent arguments between women and staff. Verbal abuse by staff. I felt like I was not a human being. The men who worked in exchange for their shelter treated us like we were animals. Dirty Animals.
This place has a sign opposite the offices that states that the women would be expected to come up with a plan to
1) find a job,
2) save money, and
3) get an apartment of their own.
This is a farce. Many of the women had various types of mental illness and would be unable to live on their own. Other women were only interested in obtaining drugs and spending their days in an altered state of being. A few I saw on the 16th St Mall with signs begging for money. A sad few were pregnant. What kind of life would these children have?
After three weeks I found myself more disabled than when I got to Denver. My feet hurt 24/7. I already suffer from chronic pain in my back, knees and ankle.
I am fortunate that my stay was only temporary and the weather was mostly agreeable. I am now in my apartment in Idaho Springs.
Shelter Life is NO LIFE. It’s just shuffling from point A to point B all day every day.
This was a new experience for me as I had always had my own apartments in CT.
The staff for the most part were supportive. I did have trouble the third day with one young man.
They had a trailer where belongings were stored overnight, but had to be out in the morning. My belongings were too great for me to carry around all day and, as I am somewhat physically disabled, it would have been impossible for me to go anywhere with them. I told the young man I would have to sit outside the property on the sidewalk all day so as to not have my stuff stolen. He finally came up with a solution: store my stuff at a public storage facility a few blocks away. So this I did which depleted my funds considerably.
So here I am new to Colorado. No idea what to do all day. We are awakened at 5am and after breakfast have to leave by 7am not to return until 5:30 pm. A woman at the shelter told me about The Gathering Place but, how to get there. I finally found my way to St. Francis, where I spoke to a social worker. He was very helpful. I finally got a Colorado ID and bus passes and directions to The Gathering Place to get a shower and a lunch.
At Samaritan House there were frequent arguments between women and staff. Verbal abuse by staff. I felt like I was not a human being. The men who worked in exchange for their shelter treated us like we were animals. Dirty Animals.
This place has a sign opposite the offices that states that the women would be expected to come up with a plan to
1) find a job,
2) save money, and
3) get an apartment of their own.
This is a farce. Many of the women had various types of mental illness and would be unable to live on their own. Other women were only interested in obtaining drugs and spending their days in an altered state of being. A few I saw on the 16th St Mall with signs begging for money. A sad few were pregnant. What kind of life would these children have?
After three weeks I found myself more disabled than when I got to Denver. My feet hurt 24/7. I already suffer from chronic pain in my back, knees and ankle.
I am fortunate that my stay was only temporary and the weather was mostly agreeable. I am now in my apartment in Idaho Springs.
Shelter Life is NO LIFE. It’s just shuffling from point A to point B all day every day.
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