Nobody Home-Claire S.

Gayle’s house was hot, so hot that the thermostat said “high”, and my thermometer said 94 degrees. July in Tucson is the worst possible time for a cooling system failure. Gayle’s AC had been out for at least five days – I know this because there were five days’ worth of newspapers on the driveway. And Gayle had medical issues that left her incredibly vulnerable in the excessive heat – I know this because of the hospital bed in her bedroom, and the oxygen concentrator next to it.  As for Gayle, I never had the pleasure of meeting her, because she had been hospitalized due to heat related illness, and the hospital was refusing to discharge her until her air conditioning was functioning again.

It’s unusual for us to work for client’s that are not home to let us in. It’s unusual to receive a work order that includes the phrase “please feed and water the cats.” But this was not a usual job. What it was, was an urgent job. So Mary and I began to troubleshoot the system, working against 95 degree indoor temperatures. We quickly determined that there was something very wrong with the air handler. So off to the attic we went, thus raising the temperature of our work environment by 25 degrees. And there we found it, a worn out blower motor.

Gayle had spent a week in the hospital due to the failure of a $100 part. But, the client didn’t have that $100, and certainly didn’t have what an HVAC company would charge to install it. And so something as simple as a motor can lead to a life threatening situation, and a very long hospital stay. This is the place where poverty, medical issues, and home ownership collide in the worst possible way. The place where a simple repair is simply out of financial reach, and homeowners take their chances and do their best to endure. And this is also the place where CHRPA has the greatest of impacts. Because we can and did replace that blower motor. And we can do so without asking for a cent from the client. And even though it’s not a typical request, we can even feed and water the cats when necessary. And we did all of that, which allowed Gayle to go home from the hospital.

I still haven’t met Gayle. But I understand she expressed gratitude for the work we did. And I am thankful as well, that she is recovering and able to go home.

Team-Building by Scott C.

The first time I went to the house, I was somewhat shocked. The roof in the kitchen and living room was in a state of slow collapse, sagging down so low that I had to duck as I walked through the home. There was no illusion of being rain-resistant—the roof had basically become a water catchment, funneling water into the house.

Albert told me that they had moved his grandmother Isabel out of the home out of fear for her safety. “Good thinking,” I said. “I’m nervous just walking under this thing.”

Unfortunately, the house is outside the city of Tucson, so our city funds won’t be applicable.

Unfortunately, the mobile home is in a park on the edge of the Tohono o’Odham land, so Pima County money can’t be used on the home.

Unfortunately, Albert’s grandmother is not a Native American, so tribal resources are not available to help repair her home.

Fortunately, CHRPA received a CORE Grant from the Community Foundation of Southern Arizona, and fortunately this funding is unrestricted and doesn’t say anything about tribal status or city limits. We got a delivery of trusses and with a mixed crew of family members, CHRPA staff and volunteers, we removed the old roof to the sky and set new trusses, installed a new roof deck and put a new roof on the home. Family members insulated and installed drywall. It was a beautiful thing to see a wide-ranging partnership restore this home for Isabel, and every part of the team was essential.

“I wasn’t sure we could manage this,” Albert told me when his grandmother moved back home. “It seemed impossible to get this house put back together.”

“The house came together,” I answered, “because the team came together.”

One Day by Abi O.

A little bit of lady power goes a long way. Destinee, Ann, and I set out one Thursday to build a 28’ ramp for our client, Nicole. Destinee, Ann, and Scott all looked very skeptical that this ramp could be built in one day. Nicole lives way out by Picture Rocks and we still needed to buy lumber.

As we are on the road, I share Nicole’s story. Recently, a neighbor’s dog bit her brother. A week later, it bit her friend. A week after that, it bit Nicole. She went to the hospital, and after a week, the doctors decided they couldn’t save the leg she had been bit on. Now Nicole is an amputee with one leg ending just above her knee, and the dog that bit her has been put down.

Nicole has steps into her home, and was discharged from the hospital before a ramp could be built. To leave her house to go to appointments, she had to rely on her son to help her, and sometimes lift her, up and down the stairs. This is less than ideal, and so a friend of Nicole’s sought out CHRPA for help. CHRPA came, with a truck full of lumber and ladies.

Okay, I admit, it was a pretty lofty goal to finish in a day. But I had the perfect crew, and after a hard day’s work, the platform was complete. It was only one day that negatively affected Nicole’s life, and it was also only one day that helped the future look more positive and possible.

Can’t Be Fixed by Claire S.

Eva answered the door wrapped in blankets. “Nobody has been able to fix the furnace and my mom can’t come home until the heat is on.” Her mom, Rosa, had been hospitalized with bronchitis two weeks ago and went to stay with her son because it was just too cold in her house and the chill would inhibit her recovery.

A non-working furnace that others have walked away from? This sounded like a challenge I was up to tackling. Eva was skeptical – she’d heard confident assessments before and her house was still freezing and her mom was still sick and unable to live at home. Home should be a place of respite not a cause of illness.

Dan’s assessment from the previous day was correct – a bad control board. If the “brain” of the furnace stops working, you better believe that the whole furnace won’t work. The tough part would be finding a replacement, since furnace control boards are very specific to the make and model of the furnace and this specific furnace is 25 years old. Three calls in and I wasn’t having any luck, but the fourth time was the charm.

It is not every day where things go your way and the magical part is waiting for you at a supply house.  I was thrilled (and relieved) to not have to tell Eva that she and her mom would have to wait another week while the part got ordered and delivered. A touch of grace and heavy dose of luck had put a board in my hand and the furnace would be back on today.

The furnace coming back to life brought life to Eva’s eyes too. She put her hand to the register and could hardly believe the warmth. As I finished up the paperwork, Eva called her mom, her voice was filled with joy and the muffled joy on the other end of the line signaled that life would go back to normal and she could come home.

Heat really is that important, even in the desert.

Hilltop by Dan W.

My van Bones and I kept climbing up into the Catalina Foothills. It was another rainy day this October, clouds hanging low, lightning striking in the distance. I peered into the rear view mirror and glanced at the Tucson valley below. “Not a typical Chrpa neighborhood,” I muttered.

I came to the end of a cul-de-sac and drove another hundred feet up to the house. I was greeted by the daughter. She immediately delved into explaining to me not to judge the book by the cover. Her mother has lived there for 30 plus years, lost her husband of 65 years just last year, and has not been able to keep up with the 40 year old house on social security.

We walked into the house and as I surveyed the interior I noticed 30 year deep red wrinkled carpet that had loosened from years of use. Yep, an obvious tripping hazard. We walked up the steps, another issue for the 85-year-old occupant to navigate. Everything in the house was vintage 1980’s. That included all of the plumbing fixtures and appliances. Drippy faucets, hard to open sliding glass doors, leaky sections on the shingled roof, low toilets that had lost their ability to flush adequately.

The repairs were overwhelming and costly for the elder Greek Widow. She and her husband had immigrated from Greece in the early 50’s and had settled in Chicago. Life was much better in the States and they took part in the American Dream, starting up a small business that provided them the opportunity to buy a house and raise a family. After many years of freezing winters, they finally realized the Southwest was a better place to live.

Now that her husband was gone she found herself with a modest social security check and an adult son with severe mental issues living with her. Even though her house was paid for, by the time she paid for property tax, utilities and food she had very little to use for upkeep of the house. Looking around at the space she was living in, I wondered if maybe the best solution would be to sell the house and move into a smaller single level house, but her daughter said her mother loved the house and would never want to leave it.

Our crews will be able to fix those drippy faucets and leaky roofs and hopefully give her the peace of mind knowing that water bill might be a little more manageable. As I left I was given a warm hug and delicious piece of Greek pastry to feast on while I headed back into the Tucson valley. I also had a reminder that everyone has a story and a set of challenges not seen from the edge of the cul-de-sac.

Patterns in the Desert by Dustin S.

I’ve encountered this story line so many times in recent weeks that it’s difficult to not to see a pattern emerging in Pima County: Clients experience a problem with X aspect of their living situation, and  not wanting to seek charity, attempt to hire professionals to ameliorate said issue, only to be quoted XXX dollars to complete said work and then, discouraged, people seek out an agency such as our own for assistance.

This was exactly Rafael’s situation as of last week. A damp spot in the yard turned into a geyser of wasted water and Rafael freaked out. He called a local professional outfit that quoted him a $1200 bill to trench the thirty or so feet to his house. The actual plumbing work was in addition to that and I’m uncertain what the total cost would have been for him if he had signed up for their payment plan in exchange for a new water line. So my boss lent him a trenching shovel and mattock and told him to call our office once he cut a narrow channel the thirty or so feet from the meter box to his house.

Which he did, with the help of his son, in record time. I made my way to his home early in the morning. While I worked to unearth the meter box, Rafael hovered around my work space, asked technical questions about pipe technologies, and just kind of hung around. The conversation eventually moved in two different directions; one was me asking for assistance pushing new pipe under the wall, and second, him telling me about his personal experience working as a teacher and losing part of his vision, and all of his ability to work as a teacher, to a series of benign but life-complicating brain tumors.

We wrapped up work in a few hours, re-pressurized his system, and both felt equally successful in eliminating a water leak in the dry desert. That’s a beautiful part of the pattern too. If CHRPA can eliminate costs for at-risk homeowners, and incorporate our clients in whatever way they are able so that the project feels more collaborative, then I’m glad this pattern continues.

Two Big Guys by Kara H.

“I was hoping the two big guys who were here before would be the ones to install the cooler,” Harry told Mary and me.

I saw what he meant when he showed us where the completely-rusted-through cooler sat. It was on a balcony, over a wall, and higher than any cooler I had previously encountered. We had to fully extend CHRPA’s longest extension ladder against the balcony wall, climb over the parapet wall and drop down a couple of feet to the balcony floor.

“I, too, wish those other two guys came back. That way we wouldn’t have to figure out how to get the cooler on that balcony,” I muttered to Mary. Thankfully, Harry was eager to help. An extra set of hands was essential to our eventual success. Mission accomplished. Harry spent the rest of the 113 degree afternoon with us on the roof, talking to us, refilling our cups with ice water.

Harry and June’s house had a stunning view of the Catalina Mountains. Harry told us they had moved to Tucson from Chicago 22 years ago. “We had a house that was barely 2×4’s and tin on a small lot in Chicago. We sold that and were able to buy this place here. That’ll tell you how different the cost of living is! We used to be pretty well off financially. But my son got in a motorcycle accident two weeks after he was too old to be on our health insurance and had to spend 11 days in the burn unit. A few days later, I got a heart attack, and since my son and I owned our own business, we lost that too. So we were swamped with hospital bills and had no income, so we had to drain everything we had saved. And now we survive on our disability income. It’s sad how fast everything can change.”

Harry refilled our cups with ice water once more as Mary and I started packing up our tools. “It’s like Christmas! I can’t wait to try the new cooler! You both are amazing.” And maybe as an effort to redeem himself for wishing the two big men had shown up instead of Mary and me, Harry said, “It sure will useful for you two to be self-sufficient with all these skills. My mother was a strong woman, so I’m somewhat of a feminist too.”

Doors by Don L.

Reglinda’s husband recently passed away, and she was having to learn to live alone. They had lived in their small but cozy house for many years, but things felt different now that she was on her own. During the last three years, her husband had been very ill, and had been unable to keep up with repairs around the house. Consequently, there were some problems, chief among them the doors that didn’t close, function or lock. 

“I don’t feel safe being here alone,” Reglinda told us. “I love my little house, but I can barely sleep at night because it doesn’t close up anymore.”

One door wasn’t even on its hinges anymore—it was just leaning against the opening, pretending to be a door. Two other doors refused to latch at all. One latched but was a little messed up. We got to work. It took a couple of days to replace one door, re-hang another, repair a broken jamb, and replace all of the locksets and weather stripping, then install a threshold at the front door. When the work was finished, all the doors shut, locked and were tight against the weather. Reglinda was delighted with the finished project. She thanked us profusely as we left, and wrote thank you over and over on the final paperwork.

Not sure that she had expressed her gratitude thoroughly enough, she wrote a letter to CHRPA:

This letter is written to convey our deepest gratitude for the work your organization has so generously and expertly done for me. Don and Ted worked tirelessly to complete my much-needed front and back doors. Their genuine concern and kindness will always be remembered. If only there were more people like them around, this world would be a happier place. Without your assistance during this difficult time for me, I wouldn’t know what to do…

It is one job of hundreds, one house of the myriad homes we visit, one client of the multitude. But for Ted and I and Reglinda, there is a transaction of good will that went beyond the $527 of doors and hardware. Reglinda feels safe in her beloved home. Ted and I feel affirmed in our volunteer work. The world is, in fact, a happier place for the the connection between the need and the resources and the hands to repair the doors. It isn’t magical or automatic—it requires open hearts, able hands, a few dollars and people willing to give and receive. It’s regular and plain and it makes the world a happier place after all.

Natural Disaster Progression by Abi O.

On August 25 in Tucson it didn’t rain a single drop, there was no relief from the 104 degree day. But in Texas it was raining and flooding and people were preparing for the landfall of Hurricane Harvey. To me, this disaster was just a headline- I couldn’t imagine the rain, the wind, the flooding, the destruction, the panic.  I have no understanding of what it is like to experience a massive natural disaster.  But as I was watching the news, watching a faraway city deal with the aftermath, a pregnant Jenny, her husband Calvin, and their two kids got into their car and started driving with the few possessions they had left towards Tucson.

They had lost everything and these ripples of reality were sending Jenny and Calvin and their soon to be three kids to move in with Jenny’s mom, Hattie, in her two bedroom trailer.  Their low income and a rough credit history meant there are few options for this family. Moving back to Texas was not an option. Buying a home of their own was not an option. They looked to move into the same park as Hattie but the only place available was a one bedroom. As Hattie looked around her home, the two bedrooms and living room overflowed with people. She decided to move out, and give the gift of a home to her recently homeless family members.

Soon after the move, Hattie was injured in an accident, at work, involving a drunk driver.  Hattie now goes to physical therapy multiple times a week and is still walking, but now uses a cane or a walker.  The steps on her new mobile home are rickety, and has a handrail that is rather unstable. Hattie is  unable to enter and exit her home independently.

Hattie called CHRPA with little hope. She had been a previous client, but knew that she had given up the home CHRPA had previously repaired. I came out to scope the situation, listen to Hattie and Jenny, and determine what we might be able to build. A few days later, Destinee and I built a new set of steps with two secure handrails- an exception made possible by private funding.  Jenny came to visit, thanking us for the gift to her mom, and for the gift to her whole family.

Hattie can now focus on healing instead of falling, she can access her community that now includes daughter and family, and she can water her plants on her own. CHRPA can’t alter the reality of a hurricane, or other disasters, natural or human-made. We can create changes that allow individuals to be in safe places while they discover the ways through their new reality.

Translation: Relief By Joe A.

Abraham and I arrived at the small tan brick house way on the west side of town. The front yard was neat and full of rose bushes that I imagine must be more beautiful when the air isn’t so the dry and the sun isn’t so hot. There were 5 lawn chairs lined up outside the front door, slightly shaded by the house, but I doubt sitting in them is much fun these days. The high that day was predicted to be 110, and the thermometer was already at 93.

Javier and Martha are both in their 80s, and had been without cooling for two weeks. Their son met us outside the home, underneath the custom made sign bearing the family name. He told us that his parents are tough as nails, and they hadn’t complained once since their cooler stopped working. I was impressed, because it had been one of the hottest weeks of the summer. These were days where the breeze feels like a hair dryer and even sun –down doesn’t make much of a difference.  A new cooler would bring much needed relief for this couple and I was happy to be there. No one should be without cooling this time of year.

Abraham and I climbed up on the roof to assess the old cooler and Javier climbed up right behind us. Much like his yard and home, Javier’s look is polished: a crisp white shirt and matching ball cap. Even at 84 he marches right up the ladder and onto the sloped roof, offering company and water as we work.

We pulled the old cooler off the roof and began preparations for the new one. Javier doesn’t speak much English so he didn’t say much, he just watched us carefully and handed us tools when we needed them. Javier told Abraham that it had been stressful to not have cooling, but I never would have guessed based on his calm demeanor.

When we finished the job, Javier posed next his new cooler – clean and neat just like him. He didn’t smile much or say much, but I could see the relief in his shoulders and eyes, even under the hot sun and behind his sunglasses. Relief and thanks have no language barriers.