I’ve always thought it peculiar how the simplest item can take on meaning beyond its practical use. A diamond ring can represent decades of commitment or a worn stuffed teddy bear can remind one of those precious years of adolescence. But this story revolves around a simple white pair of sneakers, and what they meant to a woman by the name of Mary Helen Douglas.
Mary hails from the town of Petaluma, a land known for its picturesque river, quaint architecture, butter and eggs parade, and famed World’s Ugliest Dog competition. Her parents suffered from addictive illness for the majority of their lives, and thus growing up Mary lacked supervision and support that a parental figure provides for a child. She would often have to find her own food, cook her own meals, and find her way around the town. So at the fledgling age of nineteen, Mary left for San Francisco. There she found a man who supported her, and she had high hopes for a future filled with change and prosperity. Although as she would discover, her plan would not become a reality.
Unable to find work, her bank account eventually dwindled into the red. Along with her husband, she eventually ended up on the streets, living periodically in and out of shelters. At the time they both found escape and numbed themselves through the use of drugs and alcohol. They went on like this for some time. Then, in the winter of 2005, all she loved slipped away from her. In a single week, her husband passed away from heart failure and all of her belongings were stolen at a shelter she was residing at for the week. In addition to all this, she was utterly broke, not even possessing a pair of shoes on her feet to warm her in the customary San Francisco misty cold.
Mary continued to find escape through substances, to numb the gaping holes in her life. She recalled that one night, the drugs had a terrible suicidal effect on her. During a bad trip, she had attempted to throw herself off of a seven story balcony. The sole reason she survived was through a friend’s intervention, yanking her back as she scrambled to throw herself over the side of the railing. This scared her beyond words, for not once had she ever even possessed a suicidal thought. She realized the drugs were changing her, morphing her into a stranger even to herself. She was taken to a doctor, and as he peered at her test results with dismal scrutiny, Mary was convinced of one fact: she would not be alive much longer living like this.
Observing Mary’s current predicament, a friend had told her of a program that could help: St. Anthony’s Free Clothing Program. She was skeptical having been to other assistance programs before, but decided to go anyways, her cold bare feet driving her to walk faster to Mission and 8th. When she entered the Free Clothing Program’s building, she was greeted by a man named Marcellus. His first question was a simple one, “What is your name?” She had participated in many other programs before and gone through information gathering processes almost identical to this one. Although this time she said it was different. Marcellus had locked his gaze with hers, and when he asked what her name was she felt as though he really cared. She was not just another number or random recipient of free goods. She said that even to this day he has never failed to greet her by her name. She was given all the clothing she needed: shirts, sweaters, pants, and socks. But the article of clothing that struck her the most was the pair of sneakers. When she fastened the laces, for the first time in a very long while, she felt her frigid toes started to relax. Walking no longer was a painful task, and strolling down the sidewalk in the shade of the high rises she was humbled by the comfort she had not felt in such a long while. She felt as though something about the program was changing her, if only just a bit. This measly pair of shoes gave her faith that all was not really lost, and for the first time in a very long time, she had hope.
While waiting outside of the Free Clothing Program building one day, a man approached some of the ladies waiting alongside her. He was acting outlandishly, yelling gibberish at some of the women without a discernable cause. She knew that the man was under the influence of drugs. And all of a sudden she saw her future–the drugs and the crazy behaviour that would ensue. This was not the future she wanted at all, and in that moment she found her strength again. She approached the man and in a way that only Mary Helen Douglas could, lectured him, calmed him down, and he eventually apologized to all the women.
Right then she knew that she had to change; that her life was not lost. She was referred to a couple rehabilitation centers by the staff and her road to recovery began. Looking back, those sneakers, given to warm her feet on those chilly nights, incited a change that would end up saving Mary’s life. So perhaps the next time you peer down at your feet, you can remember Mary and how something as simple as an old pair of shoes can mean salvation for another.
Tyler Merkel is a Communications & Outreach intern at St. Anthony Foundation
