Helping Those She Left Behind

A year ago, Mary Jane Hall was bumming beer money on Spokane’s mean streets.

Today, she’s clean and sober and on a crusade to help the formerly homeless folks who call the troubled Wilton apartment complex home.

The four-story Wilton at Browne and Pacific offers subsidized shelter to people struggling with mental, chemical or physical problems. Overseen by Spokane Housing Ventures, the Wilton is supposed to be a safe haven, drug and alcohol free.

But Hall, who spent a year in the Wilton as a tenant and part-time janitor, claims these noble goals are rarely achieved. She blames inattentive and inept management for not stopping the drugs, alcohol and prostitutes that frequent the building and sometimes lead to violence.

“I’ve swept up syringes in the bathrooms,” says Hall, 38, who describes the Wilton as a spiritual sinkhole. “I don’t have one compliment about the Wilton except for the people trying to live there. I promised them when I left that I would not forget them. They are my friends.”

Hall moved out of the Wilton in disgust in late August. She organized a meeting for Monday to talk to housing officials about the Wilton. Her experiences are outlined in a notebook that includes the notarized signatures of residents who share her complaints.

“I think she’s close to an inspiration,” says Wilton tenant Jeremy Street. “She has a great deal of compassion for the people who are in pain. She feels for them and wants them to have help.”

Although the intentions of the Wilton are inarguably good, Hall isn’t the first to complain about bad management. One of the most egregious examples happened last year when tenant Tony Whitehead died. The 54-year-old man lay rotting in his fourth-floor apartment for almost a month.

Residents say their complaints about the smell to Wilton officials were ignored until the stench grew to unbearable levels.

Spokane Housing Ventures denies this, saying that the odor was not reported until the morning Whitehead was discovered.

We could go back and forth all day citing charges and denials. But Florrie Brassier, who directs Spokane’s Northwest Fair Housing Alliance, says she hears far more complaints about the Wilton than Spokane’s other two subsidized apartment complexes for the homeless.

Those two facilities, she notes, are not managed by the nonprofit Spokane Housing Ventures.

“The issue that keeps coming up is that tenants want to be treated with respect,” says Brassier. “I think they need to listen to their tenants and take them seriously.”

According to Jayne Auld, who directs Spokane Housing Ventures, that is exactly what has been happening at the Wilton. She points out that a committee of tenants was formed and Hall served on it. Meetings were held to discuss Wilton concerns, and performance goals for management were established.

She suspects some of Hall’s ire is more of the disgruntled employee variety. It is true that Hall clashed with the on-site manager and another supervisor. Auld says she was not invited to Hall’s meeting, but adds that she will investigate all of her concerns.

Despite their differences, Auld is quick to compliment Hall for how far she has come.

It has barely been a year since Hall was a hopeless alcoholic living on the street. Then one September day, she found the motivation to stop drinking. She credits God and a shred of her Catholic upbringing that hadn’t been dulled by 26 years of pickling her body in alcohol.

“I started drinking beer with a friend when I was 12 years old,” she says. “We’d drink before school and smoke marijuana at lunch. From age 12 to 37 I was stoned or high all the time.”

Hall’s drinking cost her everything, her marriages, kids and family relationships. She finally hit the skids with no place to live.

“I used to stand across from the Wilton in the alley asking for beer money. If I couldn’t get change, I’d steal it,” Hall says. “I can tell you everything about the streets, I’ve been through it all.”

Now 12 months sober, Hall has healed those broken family ties. She is consumed with a desire to help those kindred spirits she met at the Wilton.

“It’s a miracle,” she says. “Life is good and I want it to be good for them, too.”