Hammond on the bus. (Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
Hammond, downing a bottle while a friend visits her room, said she was going to a methadone clinic that helped her cut down quite a bit on heroin. (Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
Hammond reels from the effects of drugs she has been consuming in her room at the Senator Hotel in downtown Los Angeles. (Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
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Hammond is treated by nurses Cynthia J. Goins, left, and Marlene in her room at the Senator. (Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
Cliff Butler, alias the Polish Man, had been begged by Project 50’s director to stay away from the big rigs he shined for quick money to buy crack with. Hed tried, and for a while he believed he might save himself. But then he began climbing on the trucks again. (Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
Project 50 participant Paul Sigler advertises a local business in Costa Mesa. He had once owned a thriving firm and was trying to return to the business world. (Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
Bobby Livingston, No. 1 on Project 50’s list, was arrested just months after getting a room. He always claimed to enjoy the company of the voices in his head. Later he pounded his chest and said, I like the way I am. (Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
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Sheila Nichols, HIV-positive, has a bad day because of the disease and spends most of her time in bed in her one-bedroom apartment in downtown Los Angeles. She is taking three major HIV medicines and has been off the street for two years. “I probably would have died out there during my addiction ‘cause I didn’t care. I gave up. I was hopeless. I have plenty of hope today,” she said. (Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
Cathy McFee, a longtime addict with a festering abscess on her leg, was a striking illustration of the promise that Project 50 would largely pay for itself. During her last year on the streets, she had spent about 40 days in the hospital, costing taxpayers nearly $90,000. The year after she got a room, with easy access to nurses, she visited the hospital just once, for a $940 tab. (Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
Carrie Bach, talking with program participant Andre Cotton, eventually left her post as Project 50 director. “I’ve never been under such stress,” Bach said. “I don’t regret one moment of it. It was awesome. It’s just that it really did test me, and it showed my cracks.” (Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
After participating in karaoke night on skid row, Project 50 participant Wanda Hammond makes her way to her bus stop. (Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)