Wayne Samson once owned a successful printing business, rode a Harley motorcycle and shared a home full of expensive belongings with his wife and children. Today, on the eve of Christmas, the recovering heroin addict, who has lived on the street for three years, treasures his tiny, brand new home in downtown Victoria.
"I feel unbelievably privileged," Mr. Samson, 54, said. "Any time life deals me a hand better than I have coming, I feel anxious."
In mid-December Mr. Samson brought a shopping cart containing garbage bags of clothing, meticulously titled compact discs and a few books to the 45-unit Our Place, a new facility for Victoria's homeless.
His hotel-like room has a desk with a computer, a ceiling-mounted flat-screen TV, a single bed (a bit short for Mr. Samson's 6-foot-1 frame, but better than concrete), a bike hook and a chair. The view outside his window looks toward Wharf Street, where he often slept, near the drug dealers he patronized.
"I have everything I need. Now I'm coming back," said Mr. Samson, who pays $400 a month for his room and meals.
There isn't a Christmas tree or wrapped gifts. Instead, Mr. Samson appreciates something normally taken for granted.
"Having a bathroom is one of the greatest privileges," Mr. Samson said of his toilet, sink and shower stall. "When you're homeless, one of the first things you give up is privacy."
Mr. Samson was amongst the first wave of 15 tenants to move into Our Place's units on the fifth floor.
"The first 15 are the impossible-to-house," said Rev. Allen Tysick, Our Place's executive director.
A combination of behavioural problems, addictions or mental health issues are to blame, said Mr. Tysick, a United Church minister well known for his relentless work with the homeless.
The second 15, most of them with multiple addictions, will take up residence on the fourth floor later in the month. The final 15, those almost ready to live in an unsupported environment, will settle on the third floor in mid-January.
Some shelters boast that they take in people but the problem is that they don't keep them sheltered, Mr. Tysick, 61, said.
Mr. Samson endured a rough circuit of 10 days at one shelter, another 10 at a second and then about 10 more on the street.
Mr. Tysick is praying that Our Place will keep the residents, both men and women, in long enough to get them off drugs, healed and taught skills to live on their own.
"Here is a place to get established. We'll make sure we do the things to create a family," he said. "Will we succeed with everyone? No."
Violence, such as hitting staff, will result in immediate ejection, Mr. Tysick said. A full-time doctor and nurse, three full-time support workers and one full-time drug and alcohol counsellor will work with the residents and visitors.
A computer room, coffee and juice bar and several washrooms are on the main floor.
The second floor's kitchen will feed the 45 residents three meals each day, while street folk, who can number 600 daily, are welcome for lunch and supper. Washrooms and a chapel complete the floor.
The basement will hold foosball and pool tables, big-screen TV, lockers, washers and dryers and shower facilities.
"I would say this is cutting edge," said André Czerwinski, Our Place's housing manager. "If we're going to have a success story, this is where it will happen."
Mr. Czerwinski, 47, spent 25 years in the military, much of that time in the Middle East. He's witnessed staggering human behaviour but nothing matches the ruthlessness and resiliency he's seen on Victoria's streets.
After a visit to Mr. Samson's room, Mr. Czerwinski removed a machete with a half-metre blade that he would turn over to the police.
"As a street person, you can wake up with a smashed skull," said Mr. Samson of why the homeless carry weapons.
House rules forbid weapons, drugs or alcohol and Mr. Samson can't have guests in his room. He's thinking of appealing the latter rule because he wants his children, a son, 13, and daughter, 12, to visit.
Mr. Samson was one of 370 people who applied to live at Our Place. He heard about the facility about one year ago from a nurse.
Without much to fill his day, Mr. Samson continually asked Our Place's director of operations, Rev. David Stewart, to get him into the new facility. His persistence paid off.
Our Place cost $14-million to complete, with $5-million coming from the federal government, another $5-million from the province and the remainder, including the $2-million cost for the land, raised by the Our Place Society, Mr. Tysick said.
One-third of the annual $1.5-million operating costs will be funded by the Vancouver Island Health Authority. The rest will have to raised, Mr. Tysick said.