Transforming Lives Through Caring and Compassion

Even though Newman, 50, moved from Mississauga, Ont., to Calgary decades ago, she has remained a devoted Leafs’ fan.

“I’m perhaps too loyal and I always stick up for the underdog,” she says with a laugh, referring to the fact that her favourite team hasn’t won a Stanley Cup since 1967.

But those attributes – fierce loyalty and sticking up for the underdog – are at the core of who Newman is and how she views her role as executive director of the Calgary Drop-In and Rehabilitation Centre – Canada’s largest homeless shelter and likely this country’s most innovative and cost-effective one, too.

More subtle adornments in her office, besides the little Leafs statues given to her by staff and friends, includes the urns of Drop-In clients who passed away with no family or loved ones to claim their remains.

She points to a photo of a man with a long grey beard who is sweeping the Drop-In’s cafeteria floor. The photo is resting against a simple wooden box containing the ashes of Ignac Horvath, a longtime resident of the shelter, who passed away Feb. 1 at the age of 75.

“When we emptied Mr. Horvath’s locker this is all that was in it,” says Newman, picking up a box containing a stainless steel watch, letter opener, pen and key chain, all untouched and pristine. It was a Christmas gift from Dermot Baldwin, the Drop-In’s former executive director, to thank Horvath for his diligent work helping to keep the centre clean.

“That’s all he had, that and the clothes that you see him wearing in this picture,” she marvels. Turns out, Horvath had much more than that – a pension from Canadian Pacific that he never touched, worth more than $400,000.

Then Newman points to a photo of a wild-haired, smiling woman, Evelyn Willis, and a lovely ceramic vase painted with bold flowers.

“Evelyn could be nasty,” laughs Newman. “Boy could she swear – the language that came out of her mouth was something else, so I picked the sweetest looking vase I could find to put her remains in.”

Newman recounts a little story for the other urns on the built-in bookshelf in her office, constructed in the Drop-In Centre’s woodworking shop, which helps train homeless clients with a coveted skill and provides the Drop-In with much of it’s furniture.

But there is no time to linger. Newman has an important off-site meeting with the good folk at Nexen, who are hoping to raise $3.5 million to help make the Drop-In’s senior’s housing apartment building, the Sundial, mortgage free.

“Currently, only 32 of the building’s 119 units are low-cost housing. Our hope is to bring that up to 50 per cent with the other 50 per cent remaining market rentals. If we can get rid of our mortgage, we will be able to afford to increase the percentage of low-cost housing offered,” explains Newman, of the building located at 835 6th Ave. S.W.

At Nexen’s pristine offices, strategies for the fundraising campaign are discussed, which include “leveraging Nexen CEO Marvin Romanow’s industry connections.” It’s a creative and engaging meeting.

Newman is grateful for the creative brilliance and commitment by the Nexen staffers and gets back to the Drop-In just in time for the lunch service. On this day, 13 staffers from Genivar, an engineering firm, are serving the meal – orange juice, chicken pot pie and a crisp green salad with tomatoes and cucumber.

Everyday, the Drop-In serves more than 3,500 meals to 1,200 clients and has just three paid staff who run the massive kitchen – the rest is done by volunteers. It’s an incredibly efficient and cost-effective model.

After thanking the lunch volunteers, Newman walks through the packed dining area – filled with her beloved clients.

“Hi Deb,” says one young woman. Newman stops to chat. Next, she’s talking with Joe Selena, 63.

“What do you want for Christmas, Joe?” asks Newman, in reference to the centre’s Christmas wish program.

“My two front teeth,” answers the 63-year-old former construction worker, without skipping a beat.

When he laughs, it’s evident he needs much more than just two teeth.

While no longer living at the Drop-In, Selena came in for lunch as the $500 he gets for social assistance leaves little in the way for food, even though his housing through Trinity Foundation costs him only $162 per month. With the occasional food hamper and meals from the Drop-In, Selena says he gets by just fine. He is a joker and mentions that his addiction is causing him problems. Newman’s face shows concern. “I’m addicted to women,” he says, with a wry smile. Newman laughs heartily.

After the joking, however, Selena gets serious. “I appreciate you helping me, Debbie,” he says earnestly.

“You’ve helped me a lot.”

Newman grabs his hands. “How about I come back and we can talk about what you’d like for Christmas?” asks Newman.

Selena nods. Many clients just ask for bus passes, or steel-toed boots, others for gifts for others – their kids or a parent. One woman recently asked to have a do-nation made to Children’s Hospital in her name.

As she walks through the dining hall, it’s astonishing how many of the clients Newman knows by name.

Then again, Newman was the Drop-In’s first social worker, hired in 1995 by Dermot Baldwin, who retired one year ago and who recently had the road near the shelter renamed in his honour. The building’s address is no longer 423 4th Avenue S.E. but 1 Dermot Baldwin Way.

Next, Newman is conducting a building-wide tour for 30 employees with Athabasca Oil Sands Corp., showing them where the centre’s 1,200 clients sleep every night – from the dorm rooms on the lower floors to the semi-private rooms on the upper floors for clients who have jobs and an exit strategy.

She shows the group the computer labs, the art studio, the nurse’s office, the washers and dryers and showers and so much more.

Back in her office, Newman is quickly met by Zeus, the perky Chihuahua belonging to director of finance Alan Facey. It’s 4 p.m. and time for lunch, fish and chips from the kitchen.

“Can you see why I love this place?” she asks. “I see our clients as wonderful people who have fallen on hard times. I see them as part of my extended family.”

And in many ways they are. On Aug. 16, 1999, Newman’s husband, Rob, passed away suddenly after getting an infection in his heart. Left with two young sons – Patrick, then eight and Colin, six – she says Baldwin, the other staff and many clients rallied around and sustained her through the worst months of her life.

“I still have clients who remember the anniversary of Rob’s death and they will give me a hug. That means so much to me. Many of the clients here really understand pain – their lives are so full of it, so they can minister in a way to you.”

Newman says she’s especially grateful to Baldwin who helped her so much during that time in practical and emotional ways.

“That taught me so much. I see myself as a servant of the people. I’m here to serve their needs. I’m here to serve the needs of the staff. I’m here to remove obstacles.

“I want people to realize that this is a place where kindness happens and compassion and caring. That’s what transforms lives,” she says of the 8,400 clients who used the centre in the past 12 months. “Compassion drives everything we do here and has for 50 years. I hope to continue that legacy.”

Calgary Herald readers can help the Drop-In Centre transform lives by donating to the Herald’s Christmas Fund, which has chosen the Drop-In Centre and 11 other agencies to be recipients of the fund.

“I guess I’ve always rooted for the underdog,” she says looking over at her Maple Leafs flag. That’s really what my life’s work is, to help the marginalized reach their full potential.”

LICIA CORBELLA IS THE EDITORIAL PAGE EDITOR. LCORBELLA@ CALGARYHERALD.COM