Jennifer McPhee
Northern News Services

Anchorage, Alaska (May 30/03) - Dwight Milligrock was the type of hardcore street alcoholic many people secretly give up on, and almost stop seeing as human.

To get sober, Dwight Milligrock had to change his habits -- where he went, who he hung around with, and his whole way of thinking. "I got tired of waking up with a hangover," says Milligrock, who has reunited with a daughter he didn't see for 12 years. - Jennifer McPhee/NNSL photo The average Homeward Bound resident: -9 years homeless (range 3-27 years) -27 years drinking -44 years old (range 23-62 years) -76% high school graduates -83% Alaska Native -88% from Alaska -116 overnight stays at the sobering up station in last 12 months (range 30-286) Criteria for admission: -Meets definition of homeless -Older than 18 -Below 50 per cent median income -30 or more stays at the sobering-up station in 12 months prior to referral

He drank for 32 years, was homeless for 11, used to sleep under trees and was a regular at Anchorage's sobering-up station -- he had 160 visits there in one year. He lost many friends and relatives to alcohol.

On June 26, 2001, Milligrock quit drinking. Now he has a full-time job, apartment, college diploma in computer electronics, cool business card and cell phone.

He was a part-time employee in the accounting department of a non-profit organization but as of today, he's full-time, he says.

"I was working 20 hours a week. I thought, why am I not permanent? I want that holiday pay."

He is now living in his second apartment. The first one got too small and he wanted a separate carving room. "I look at my apartment," he says, "my goodness, in seven months what I've collected."

While trying to get his life together, Milligrock lived at Homeward Bound, a nationally acclaimed group home and program aimed at reintegrating homeless chronic alcoholics into the community. The goal of the 24-month program, funded by various state and federal departments, is to get them into housing.

Eighty-three percent of Homeward Bound's residents are Alaska native. Milligrock stayed there for 23 months over three years. He was kicked out three times for bringing alcohol inside.

"He was particularly bad," says Hilary Morgan, an award-winning musician and former Wall Street stockbroker, who started Homeward Bound in 1997. Unlike many programs that try hard but make little progress, this one boasts a remarkable success rate.

Of the 159 people who have gone through the program, 66 per cent have maintained stable housing for six months to five years. In six years, there have been just two instances of violence at Homeward Bound.

Its residents have also paid back $92,000 in previously considered unrecoverable debt -- mostly child support and tax debt.

"I've started paying my bills," said Milligrock. "Some of them go back years. I used to throw them in the trash. Now I take care of them."

The program's annual budget is $141,000. About $4,700 is spent on each person each year, or $13 a day.

Morgan used to run another not-so-successful shelter. She's learned from her mistakes. The most critical thing she's learned is the importance of "self-advocacy." In other words, no one coddles the 25 residents at Homeward Bound.

"I'm pretty adamant my staff don't do things for them," she says. "That's negligent."

She provides an example: "I had a staff person who was a social worker, and a typical social worker type. I got to his office and he's got papers everywhere and he's on the phone. 'I'm like 'What are you doing?' He says 'I'm trying to find an assisted living program for Elsie.' And I'm like 'Well, you look really busy but where's Elsie?'"

Elsie was soon located watching television.

"I say to him, you've already got a house. If you're more invested in getting a house than she is then it's not ever going to work. So stop doing it. She needs to make the calls."

Clients get a bit "pissed off" by this approach at first, she said. "I've been called every name in the book." But overall, this approach is harder on the staff because they have to let go.

"If we do it for them, what are we going to do when they have the same problem with their own apartment and there's nobody to help."

Morgan said giving people true choice means sometimes letting them walk out the door, knowing they might end up dead. Since Homeward Bound, opened 22 of the 159 people who used the service died while still at risk on the street.

"I say to all of them you can make this. And if you don't want to, that's fine. I get in my car every night and go home whether you make it or not."

The first stage is making contact with the target group. Each person who makes the decision to enter the program undergoes a peer review and - if they haven't already - they must spend four days in detox.

"I reserve 200 detox beds a year for Homeward Bound," says Morgan. "So when we call up and say we need a bed, we have one. That makes a huge difference."

Next they move in. Residents first stay in group living situations on the first floor where they cook and eat together, do the cleaning and laundry.

They undergo a realistic life and skills assessments and work through past issues. They challenge their own self-perceptions and set their own pace on the path to sobriety.

Later they graduate to the next level - living in apartments on the upper floors. During this phase they prepare for independent living, set realistic long-term goals, maintain a source of income, learn to manage money and follow social norms and laws.

There's a sweat lodge in the backyard, and a carving room. Residents pay some rent, save their income and hold group meetings - without staff - to decide which newcomers to accept.

Just two people have ever been rejected: one was extremely violent and refused to change, the other's cognitive skills were so low that he was best suited for another program.

You can only be kicked out for bringing alcohol into the home or being violent.

No one is kicked out for life. People used to be allowed to come home drunk, but the residents themselves voted to change this rule because it was usually when intoxicated that they brought alcohol into Homeward Bound.

After being kicked out three times, Milligrock went to a treatment camp for 40 days where there was no electricity, he hauled his own water and chopped his own wood.

"It's the way I grew up," he says. It was there he finally made the decision to stay sober.

"The day he came back you could see it in his eyes," says Morgan. He wasn't going to drink anymore."

Homeward Bound evolved over the years, says Morgan, who notes she didn't start with a mould.

But at the beginning she did vow that if they program didn't work she'd be the first to shut it down.

"Because I pay taxes and this is where the money's coming from.

"I think a lot of times when programs are started, the program becomes entrenched. And then everyone tries to protect it, even if it stinks."