Success Stories

German Leon left his home to join the army when he was just 18 years old. Now 53, Mr. Leon has been displaced from his family for over 22 years. Until today, that is. On Friday December 4th, Mr. Leon and his care team huddled together and waited for his sister to arrive. After weeks of searching, Gateway's staff discovered a connection to Mr. Leon's family through Facebook. 22 years' estrangement later, the room was quiet with anticipation. Mr. Leon looked down and fiddled with his jacket's zipper, looking up occasionally to ask how far away his sister was. "Not long now ..." said Tonya Boose, Gateway's Sr. Programs Director, "The drive from South Carolina takes a while." "This day came faster than I expected..." German thought out loud. The whole room beamed. For the next hour, Gateway and VA staff who knew Mr. Leon sat together and exchanged loving stories about him. German laughed along shyly--his mind clearly occupied elsewhere as he waited for his long lost family member to arrive. Finally, German's sister was brought upstairs to Mr. Leon's dorm room where he waited. Staff gathered round and watched as the two exchanged hugs and hellos. What does one say after two decades' separation? German's sister pulled a small laminated ID out of her wallet and showed it to the group. "That's you!" she exclaimed to Mr. Leon, "Can you believe you were ever so young?" The ID pictured a younger and skinnier German Leon from his days serving in the army. "How did you get this?" he asked. "Our mother saved everything." she said. "What's the first thing you're going to do when you get home?" Tonya asked. "Sleep probably. Relax," said German Leon, "I won't have to worry about being cold anymore." "Everything is going to be okay." said his sister. The group gathered Mr. Leon's 3 suitcases, brought them downstairs, and loaded them into his sister's car. Final goodbyes were said before the two got into her car to drive away. "Thank you for everything," said Mr. Leon to his care team, "You all have helped me so much." We are so proud to have been a part of this incredible story. Congratulations Mr. Leon! We wish you the very best.

Eugene Henry, 63, wears a crisp suit and carries a briefcase in hand at all times. His friends and family call him "Bubby." He's an older gentleman with grandkids and a twinkle in his eye. Mr. Henry arrived at Gateway in December 2013 and, although he was in a new and unfamiliar place, he had an air of confidence that I would come to know as characteristic. What I did not know at the time, however, was what Mr. Henry kept inside that briefcase of his ... "Trophies," he calls them. Momentos from the past: awards, letters, and, most notably, a photocopy of a wanted sign featuring a younger-looking version of himself. The photograph is worn, but his likeness is undeniable. Could this really be the Bubby Henry we've all come to know and love at GWC? Eugene spent 17 years in Federal Prison before coming to Gateway. And although he made some big changes during his time in prison, Eugene found himself on the streets with nowhere to go for several days before he sought out Gateway Center's help. "I'm not the same person I was when I went in," he explains during our interview, "I dug deep into myself and when I came to Gateway, I made a conscious decision to help other people." Eugene did help people. He was quickly recognized by his case manager as a role model for other clients and was promoted to Resident Assistant--helping our case management team and mentoring his peers. Eventually, he rose to "Resident Intern" and began working with staff and gaining customer service skills. Mr. Henry was respectful and always went out of his way to be kind to those who needed his help. While we spoke, Mr. Henry began to pull out pages from his briefcase and lay them carefully before me on the table. Certificates of achievement, letters of recommendation, and even an award given him by the Speaker's Bureau for his role debunking stereotypes about homelessness in Atlanta, one story at a time.

"These are trophies to me. I want to frame them and put them on the wall of my new apartment. Sure, maybe they didn't come from Georgia State, Emory University, or Harvard, but it means so much to me. I carry them around to remind me of where I've been ... And where I want to go."

Eugene was a mentor before he arrived at Gateway and continues to mentor others on their journey long after. He often returns to Gateway to volunteer and help out at the front desk. About Gateway he says, "Gateway is a special place. I wanted to have my own key to my own apartment. Now I have both." Congratulations Mr. Henry. We couldn't be more proud!