Interfaith Council Helps a ‘Different Kind of Homeless’ : Shelters: A coalition of 20 area churches and synagogues works to get ‘guests’ back on their feet.

You could call Tom Johnson, 41, a member of the new homeless--someone who not that long ago had a good job and a real home.

“I’ve never had to be homeless before,” said Johnson, who left home in November because of a “domestic conflict” and is hoping to be rehired by a previous employer when the firm opens a new pharmaceutical research lab in Irvine by early March.

Johnson is not unusual at the program for the homeless sponsored by the Valley Interfaith Council, a coalition of 20 San Fernando Valley churches and synagogues.

This year, the portrait of the average guest is different from a year ago, according to volunteers. More participants are divorced men and they seem better educated and more highly skilled than last year.

At Temple Judea in Tarzana, there are 11 guests--as the volunteers prefer to call them--eating dinner, joking and talking at several round tables covered with tablecloths. With them are volunteers and leaders of the congregations involved in the nine-week Help Our Homeless project.

After dinner, many of the guests meet with their volunteer advisers to talk about their progress in getting work and possible approaches to their problems. Then they walk across the temple’s courtyard to an upstairs classroom, which has been turned into an indoor tent city. Nine tents provide portable privacy as the guests move every three weeks from one congregation to the next.

While the 20 program participants--11 in one group, now at Temple Judea, and nine in another at Prince of Peace Episcopal Church in Woodland Hills--break camp three times during the nine-week program, they are each consistently linked with one personal adviser who assists in managing everything from L. A.’s bus system to laundry and resume writing.

The program’s goal, according to Temple Judea Rabbi Donald Goor, “is not just to provide shelter and food, but to get them back on their feet.”

Participants are tightly screened--guests cannot be substance abusers or have dependent children; they also sign a contract committing themselves to the program rules. The system is run like a youth hostel, Goor said. Guests who don’t return at night and who don’t call to tell the volunteers that they won’t be there for dinner are kicked out after the second such infraction. Weapons and alcohol are not allowed.

Three people have been let go since the program began in January. The guests must leave the buildings by 7:30 a.m. and cannot return until 6:30 p.m. because the facilities are used for preschool and other programs during the day.

A network of more than 500 volunteers representing Greek Orthodox, Methodist, Congregational, Unitarian, Presbyterian, Mormon, and Reform and Conservative Jewish congregations provide three meals a day, new clothing, sundries, sleeping bags--even dental care and haircuts--for the 20 guests. The program is also supported by more than $10,000 from the Valley Interfaith Council.

According to Ken Castro, director of development at the Interfaith Council, Kaiser Permanente gave $3,500, Mazon--Jewish Response to Hunger gave $4,000 and a local fund-raising concert earned $2,500. Los Angeles’ Emergency Food and Shelter Program also provides $10 per person per night through a voucher system, and there are individual contributions supporting the program. The funds go toward bus passes for each guest, clothes, food and other expenses.

The program, Castro said, is geared for what some might call the upper-crust homeless, “for those just a step away from re-entry.” Because the effort is limited to nine weeks and is volunteer-staffed, he says it is not geared to help those who are developmentally disabled or who are substance abusers. “But you have to start somewhere,” he said.

The volunteers sought referrals from many local social-service agencies but got very few, Castro said, probably because the program runs only once a year and is just nine weeks long. Because the effort is not year-round, it is not a part of the routine resource pool that the agencies use. That is why the Valley Interfaith Council hopes to be able to hire a full-time staff person to run next year’s program, seek referrals and disseminate information about the effort, Castro said.

Goor said the program has been extremely successful.

“Last year, for example, we housed 12 people for eight weeks and of those 12, 11 had a place to live and some kind of employment by the end of the program.” Unfortunately, he added, four of the 12 are back on the street. “I know,” he said, “because they have come back to me for help.”

Part of the success rate in getting participants into housing is due to the program’s recommendation that the guests save 80% of their pay, said Michael Garvin, 30, a parishioner at St. Nicholas Episcopal Church in Encino. “If they can do that, they shouldn’t have any problem getting an apartment when the program ends.”

The other reason the program works, said Kathy Challis, 53, of North Hollywood, a personal adviser and program coordinator from Emerson Unitarian Church in Canoga Park, is that participants are carefully selected, with priority given to the newly homeless. “We have better luck with the newly homeless. They’re a little more enthusiastic; they haven’t lost the hope that they can get a job,” she said.

The task that the advisers and volunteers face is enormous. Myron McDuffie, 35, who works with adviser Ann Margucci, was selected for the program after walking into the shelter at the National Guard Armory in Van Nuys. He was a welder in Chicago, but now has multiple sclerosis and is seeking a night job doing work that doesn’t involve physical exertion.

Margucci is trying to link McDuffie with the Multiple Sclerosis Society in Glendale and has found a medical ride program that may be able to transport him there.

Daniel Jensen, 33, has a license to drive 18-wheel trucks but the only work he can find is driving a small school bus. To get the job, he has to pay $34 for a driving test and fingerprinting. Margucci is helping Jensen find ways to get the money he needs for the exam.

Advisers get no formal training but do participate in an orientation session and weekly support groups to help volunteers deal with their questions and frustrations. While many volunteers assist the program by staying overnight with the guests or by serving meals, the personal advisers deal with the homeless over the entire nine-week program.

“The toughest role is for these advisers,” Goor said. “And they need to talk about their frustration in dealing with the homeless.”

Garvin, who has been with the program since its inception 18 months ago, says being a personal adviser is tough because the guests have such a wide range of health and psychological problems that the counseling can be overwhelming.

“The guests come into the program leery, but as their health improves and the regular diet makes them feel better, their security rises, their self-esteem improves and their motivation increases,” he said.

“As the program comes to a close, the advisers are dealing with the anxiety of making sure they get jobs and get housed. It’s easy to get burned out.”

Guests who are not able to secure independent living arrangements are referred to local agencies for help, Garvin said.

Cecil Ostrove, 76, of Encino, who coordinates the program for Temple Judea and is also on the board of directors at Valley Interfaith Council, said that despite the challenges, the experience has been positive for the volunteers.

“The whole atmosphere is one of feeling so good about giving. There’s no greater reward,” Ostrove said.

Karen Olds, 42, of Van Nuys works with other volunteers for St. Innocent Greek Orthodox Church in Tarzana to support the host congregations, serving 6 a.m. breakfast, bringing sack lunches or fixing dinner. She says she’s found that by participating in the program, “everyone involved has gotten more open, more comfortable dealing with the homeless. Before getting involved, some people were hesitant.”

Akiva Annes, senior rabbi at Temple Judea, agrees. “There’s a moment of fear when you encounter these people on the street, and sometimes a moment of anger,” he said. “But now we realize how thin is the line that separates us; you don’t need great catastrophes any more to become homeless.”