Worth the Investment: Lessons from a Three-Year Commute

An author who is in recovery shares a multi-year personal story about their connection with an unhoused veteran struggling with addiction at Union Station. Over the years, the author offered nonjudgmental support and conversation that provided the man with inspiration and hope, even through several setbacks and relapses. The article concludes with the man achieving four months of sobriety, securing housing, and finding a job, illustrating the central message that unhoused people are human beings worth investing in and should never be given up on

I’ve been commuting from New Haven to Manhattan for three years now to Mountainside’s NYC office. It’s a long trek, and if you’ve ever spent time at Union Station in New Haven, you know it’s a place where two very different worlds collide. Every morning and evening, I walk past the people living in the station, who are often unhoused individuals struggling with the same demons I once faced.

I am a person in recovery. I have been sober for three years now, but I remember exactly what it felt like to be in the thick of it.

When I was about six months into my recovery and new to my job at Mountainside, a man at the station approached me. He was friendly but clearly struggling, and he asked me for some money. I didn’t have any cash on me, but instead of just walking away, we started talking. He asked where I was coming from, and I told him I was headed home from work.

Then, I did something that felt a little awkward at the time. I could tell he was under the influence, and for some reason, I just blurted out that I was six months sober.

He looked genuinely shocked. The look on his face shifted from someone seeking a handout to someone seeking hope. He asked me, “What is being sober like?”

I told him the truth: “It’s beautiful. It’s a new life.”

He seemed really interested in that idea. Over the next few years, he became a familiar face on my commute. We’d see each other from time to time, and then he’d disappear for a while. One day, I saw him, and he looked great. He told me he was two months clean and had gone into a program. He told me that our first conversation had been an inspiration to him.

However, the path wasn’t a straight line. A few months after that, I saw him back at the station, and it was clear he had relapsed. He was back on drugs and back on the street.

I never stopped talking to him. I didn’t judge him or look down on him. Sometimes I’d buy him a coffee or a pack of cigarettes. I just wanted to treat him like a person. I knew his background that he’d shared: he is a veteran, one of the many people our country’s system failed and turned away. He had been through enough; he didn’t need me to turn my back on him, too.

Being a person in recovery has been amazing. The other day, I was coming home from Manhattan after celebrating my third anniversary of sobriety. I ran into him again, and right away, I could tell he was doing much better.

“Hey!” he called out.

He told me he was four months sober again. But this time, he finally had a place to stay, and he had a job. Hearing that made me incredibly happy. After all the ups and downs I had witnessed, he was finally finding his footing.

The reason I’m sharing this is that unhoused people are often treated as if they are invisible. We walk past them and try not to make eye contact, but they are human beings with stories and potential. My friend at the station is proof that people are worth investing in. It doesn’t always happen overnight, and there might be setbacks, but you should never give up on someone. Sometimes, just being seen and heard is the thing that helps a person keep going.

If you or someone you know is struggling with substance abuse, Mountainside can help. We offer individualized and comprehensive treatment that meets people where they are. Speak with an admissions specialist today to discover your options!