Coming Home to Earl’s Place

By Sheila Helgerson, Executive Director, Cornerstone Community Housing, Inc.

When Earl’s Place, part of Cornerstone Community Housing in Baltimore, opened almost 28 years ago, I was proud to show people the freshly painted bedrooms, the kitchen where meals would be made, and the dining room. I believed we had created a home.

But over time, I realized something else.

We didn’t actually build a home. Instead, we created a place where people could belong, and where that sense of belonging truly mattered.

One of those people was Michael, known to everyone at Earl’s Place as “Irish Mike.” He came to us at 79 years old, with no income, no identification, and nowhere else to turn. Most men stay with us for about two years, but Michael stayed for seven.

At some point, Michael stopped being just a resident. He became part of our family. He enjoyed having visitors, helped with our mailings, led the Tuesday night AA meetings, and always found a chance to tell a joke.

But dementia slowly changed him. He became more confused, and as staff, we worried about what would happen next. He was born in Ireland and had lived here for many years, but he was never a U.S. citizen. We didn’t know what we would do if his needs grew.

Luckily, Jim, our case manager, found someone in Ireland who wanted to help. That person connected us to others, and soon, new opportunities appeared that we hadn’t expected.

Eventually, we at Earl’s Place could no longer care for him safely. The day Jim and I discovered he had left through the back door and walked several blocks, we knew it was time to make a decision.

For 200 days, Mercy Hospital was Michael’s home. The nurses and aides all knew him. They celebrated his birthday and treated him with great dignity. During his stay, we visited often, made sure his needs were met, and stayed in close touch with the staff. We wanted Michael to feel supported and remembered, and we showed both him and the hospital team that he was still part of our family. By being there, we made it clear that no one from Earl’s Place is ever forgotten.

On June 11, the hospital staff threw a party for his 86th birthday. Five days later, he flew to Ireland. Now, he is in a hospital’s transitional unit, waiting for a spot in a long-term care facility.

A few weeks after Michael got to Ireland, we heard some wonderful news.

His sister visited him. Michael recognized her, and after years apart, they were finally together again.

I’ve learned that home is more than just a place. It’s where someone knows your name, even if you can’t remember theirs anymore.

Home is where someone is there, waiting for you.

Jesus said, “I was a stranger, and you welcomed me.”

I used to think it just meant opening a door.

Michael showed me that sometimes it means walking alongside someone for seven years, until they finally find their way home.