Author: Judith@thenightministry.org

When David moved from Arizona to Chicago in 2016, he had no idea the twists his journey would take. “I was born and raised in Arizona,” he recalled. “I came to Chicago for a promotion with a logistics company*. I’ve always been a wanderer, curious about how things work and open to new places.” But when the pandemic hit, the life he’d carefully built began to unravel. “COVID was devastating,” David said. “No one was moving—especially not internationally. The company closed, and before I knew it, I couldn’t keep up with the bills. I lost everything.” For several weeks, he found himself outdoors, navigating a city that was still new to him. 

That’s when he heard about The Night Ministry. “Someone at a food pantry mentioned a place that offered food, clothing, and help. I showed up, and I was amazed. I’ve been coming ever since.” David is one of the many people who come to The Night Ministry’s Outreach and Health Team (OHM), which provides resources every week at the CTA Red Line (Howard) and Blue Line (Forest Park) train stations. Last year, across all their services, OHM served more than 5,400 clients, with 46 percent of those clients falling within the 50- to 65-year-old age range.

David found more than assistance. He found compassion. “If I’m being honest,” he said, “I love the fact that they give a damn.” He has bonded with many members of the OHM team, and they look forward to seeing him, smiling and sharing stories about growing up on the West Coast.

“In a world that’s gotten so divided, The Night Ministry still shows up for people. They don’t just hand you something and move on; they ask, ‘What do you need? How can we help?’ That’s rare.” Today, David is employed again and living temporarily in a church parsonage. “They trust me,” he shared. “I treat it like a guest would—respectfully. You do that, and people invest in you.”

Music remains his greatest comfort. A lifelong musician and rock enthusiast, he still finds healing in the songs that shaped him. “Music is my therapy,” he smiled. “It’s not about escape, it’s about joy. It reminds me where I’ve been and keeps me moving forward.”

Now, when he meets others facing hardship, David encourages them to connect with The Night Ministry. “They can’t do everything,” he said, “but they can do something, and sometimes that’s more than what you had before.” 

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Jessica Stokes, a case manager on the outreach and health care team at The Night Ministry, is full of life, exuding positive energy with a magnetic personality. She brings that same warmth to her work, fiercely advocating for and supporting more than 200 clients.

She sees the possibilities and has absolute confidence that, once you give someone a chance and provide them with the resources—even
something many of us take for granted, like an ID card or birth certificate—they can take the next steps themselves toward a stable and productive life. “I give my clients the push they need to take the first step,” says Jessica. “They need encouragement, someone to inform
them of the things they will need to make it happen, and someone to stay with them through the process,” she said.

Jessica, who has been with The Night Ministry for almost a year, is quite familiar with the plight and stories of her clients. She grew up on the Westside in the Garfield Park neighborhood (also known as “K-Town”) where many of her clients come from. “Although I came from a supportive family, I saw many of the same challenges and difficulties that my friends and others in my neighborhood faced and it was heartbreaking.”

It’s emotional for Jessica to describe a recent client’s story—a young mother who had her newborn taken away. Jessica has a photo of the mother smiling in the hospital with her new baby. “She was able to hold her for a brief time, and you can see the joy in her face,” explains Jessica. “But it’s hard to overcome addiction.” With Jessica in her corner, the plan is to get her into treatment and support her recovery to care for herself and her child.

Day in and day out, she collaborates with a multitude of agencies, including the Department of Family and Social Services, the Chicago Housing Authority, All Chicago, Street Samaritans, Above & Beyond, and Renaissance, among others to ensure that her clients get what they
need to thrive. 

It’s hard to fathom how she keeps track of everything, but she is driven and determined. She can see that her work is making a difference, and the successes have far outweighed the failures. The world can benefit from more individuals like Jessica.

The Cubs’ playoff run ended in the National League Division Series this year, but one thing remained constant—Wrigley Field looked pristine throughout, thanks in part to Darius, one of their maintenance engineers and a current client in The Night Ministry’s Pathways Program.Jamaican-born, Darius came to the United States with his family when he was a baby. Not too long after their arrival, his mother was found to be unfit and he was removed from the only home he knew, setting him on a path of foster homes, shelters, and even periods of homelessness.
He was able to connect with The Crib, The Night Ministry’s overnight shelter located in the Bucktown neighborhood. He had access to a warm bed, shower, and breakfast daily until he entered the Pathways Program, a shared housing model at scattered sites across Chicago, supported by skill development to achieve independent living after a two-year stay. 

Darius is proud of his spacious and well-appointed apartment, which he will ultimately share with a roommate. “Now that I have a home, I can look at the future and think about maybe taking some mechanical engineering classes,” he says.

He also has ambitious plans, such as opening a repair shop. His family is in the area, and he does spend a lot of time with his grandmother and aunt, seeing his mother only during the holidays. It isn’t very easy, but given his path, it is understandable. “I love my mom because
she’s my mom, but our relationship is challenging,” explains Darius.

Darius is a resourceful and dedicated young man. Despite his challenging life journey, he maintains a positive outlook and unwavering determination to do what is best for himself. He is looking forward to his next chapter, and like the Cubs—and his favorite player, Pete Crow-
Armstrong—he carries a lot of promise for a great future. 

Ten years ago, Barry had a stable life: a career as a pharmacy technician, a wife, two sons, and a sense of everyday security. Today, in his mid-forties, he’s navigating a reality shaped by addiction, divorce, job loss, and homelessness.

The decline was gradual. First came drug addiction, then the unraveling of his marriage, the loss of his job, and finally, housing instability. Barry moved in with his sister and her wife, then crashed with a friend in Chicago, before landing at STAC—the City of Chicago’s shelter program for people with nowhere else to turn. It’s a challenging environment where theft and illness are constant struggles in a strained system.

Barry got clean. That hard-won victory opened a new chapter—but not an easy one. With an eviction notice on his record and damaged credit, even securing employment didn’t translate to securing housing. He found work at CVS, but when his hours were slashed, he pivoted to UIC Health. For a moment, things looked promising. Then that position disappeared when the person on maternity leave returned.

“It’s easy to say it’s everyone else’s fault, but the truth is, it’s all really mine,” Barry reflects. “You need to take responsibility, and it’s taken me a while to realize that while I never really got life skills growing up—and maybe that was my parents’ fault—but in the end, it’s me who needs to step up.”

His thoughts turn to his 19-year-old son. “I really worry he’s making the same mistakes.” Barry feels his ex-wife shelters their son too much, while her new husband, having already raised his own children, doesn’t want the responsibility of guiding another.

With Jessica’s help as his Case Manager at The Night Ministry, Barry moved from STAC to Safe Haven—a significant upgrade. But stability remains elusive. He admits he’s “horrible” with money, and without steady employment, even his current housing is at risk.

He had hoped to transition to Mercy Home, another step toward independence with modest monthly rent—doable in theory, impossible without income. It’s a dilemma faced by countless Chicagoans: people who are this close to making it but hit barrier after heartbreaking barrier.

Despite the setbacks, Barry offers wisdom born from experience: “If you find yourself in this situation, find someone with advocacy knowledge, like Jessica, to help you navigate the system. It’s invaluable to have a network to help connect with the services you need—it’s a process, but I am trying to stay positive and on track.”

Barry’s story isn’t over. With advocates like Jessica and The Night Ministry in his corner, he’sdetermined to keep moving forward—one difficult step at a time.