Standing together in The Crossing’s courtyard, the Forsgrens pose for a family picture. It’s a bright day, and Zach, age 4, can’t keep himself from squinting in the sunlight. Eyes closed tightly, he flashes as bright a smile as anyone lacking a few front teeth could be expected to.

“Mom, do I look stupid?” he asks through his grin.

“Of course not, honey,” his mom, Verna, reassures him.

“You look great,” adds his dad, Jeff, with gruff affection.
The parents hold their children tightly, pulling the family closer. Together they face the camera and smile.

Click.

     The Forsgrens are a close family. Jeff and Verna love their children and want to protect them from harm. Imagine then these parents’ fear and trepidation last August as they pulled into the parking lot of the shabby motel that was to be their new home. Glass bottles littered the parking lot. Verna says, “It was frightening. It was really scary. When [the landlord] opened the door, and it smelled like urine, I started crying.”

     Sections of Colfax Avenue have the reputation as a haven for prostitutes and drug dealers, but most people don’t see the invisible children and families who call dilapidated motels “home.”

     The Forsgrens never expected to be living in a motel. Over the summer, unexpected expenses had rolled in. Jeff, permanently disabled from service in the Gulf War, underwent back surgery. Verna suffered serious complications following the birth of her youngest son. The city impounded their van. Then their apartment landlord demanded more rent. Overwhelmed by medical bills, the Forsgrens couldn’t pay, and the family was evicted from their home. After they got their van back, they decided to move to a motel. They figured that living in a motel—the only one they could afford—was a step above living in the van or in a shelter.

But the motel proved a frightening place to live. Nighttime in the motel was especially scary. As Verna says, “creatures came out.” When police came at night to arrest neighbors for partying or fighting, the family would huddle in their room with the door closed, praying for it to go away. Prostitutes lived in the motel unit next door. On the other side, neighbors cooked meth. The toxic fumes wafted under the door, and Verna tried to protect her newborn, blocking the smoke with towels.

     Once families are renting motel rooms at eight hundred dollars a month, coming up with the security deposit for a home of their own is unachievable.  And with Jeff’s disability and Verna’s health issues, breaking the cycle of motel living seemed impossible.

     One day in early September, David, an intern with the Denver Rescue Mission, knocked on the Forsgrens' door. David, who helps seniors and families that are ready to make a change for the better, gave the Forsgrens information about the Mission’s transitional housing program. Wondering if the Mission could really help, the Forsgrens drove by The Crossing to see what it was like. After looking at this converted motel with its fresh paint and well-kept grounds, it didn’t take long for Jeff and Verna to decide that this was the place for them. They applied, and within five days had moved into The Crossing as Strategic Transitional Assistance and Response (STAR) residents.

     Today, six months into the program, Verna expresses gratitude for the safety her family experiences at The Crossing. “I love the fact that it is alcohol- and drug-free. When they say it, they mean it,” she says. The Forsgrens’ case manager, Crystal, has been able to help Jeff and Verna with budgeting, finding contacts around the city, and getting them into seminars (this week, Verna is attending a credit repair class). Verna speaks about the kids’ excitement at playing in the Denver Broncos Youth Center at The Crossing, and their exhilaration at building friendships with the football players, who visit sometimes just to spend time with the kids.

     The Forsgrens now have hope and are developing the skills they need to make the journey “home.” Verna is currently looking for work, and is mostly looking forward to having her own kitchen again, so she can cook for her family once more.     

Sometimes, she thinks back to the other families they left behind in the motel. “It’s just kind of funny now to see the billboards that the Rescue Mission puts up, saying ‘HOMELESS.’ It’s funny to think, oh that’s us. And there are so many families other than us that are not in this program yet, that don’t know about this program. For these programs to continue, [the Mission] needs help.”

Verna knows from experience that homelessness can happen to anyone, even to those who least expect it.

For families who find themselves homeless, The Crossing is here to help.