A Foundation to Build On: Bobby's Story

When Bobby walked out of custody, he didn't have a plan.  He had a name: Project Kinship.  Through that partnership, he found his way to Grandma's House of Hope's Men’s Re-Entry Bridge Housing Program, transitional housing for men re-entering the community after incarceration.  He expected a place to sleep.  What he found was something closer to a foundation.

Bobby spent almost 18 months in the program, longer than most, and he's quick to point out that the exchange never felt equal.  The house asked for a single weekly chore.  In return, he says, he got peace of mind.

"They took care of our emotions," he explained. 

Bobby came in high strung, still working through medical issues and canceled surgeries that kept piling frustration on top of frustration.  It was his Case Manager who helped him see the bigger picture and reminded him that he needed to advocate for himself, with his health and with his life.  That kind of steady, patient presence became the throughline of his time at Grandma's House of Hope.

It also gave him room to build.  Within a month of arriving, Bobby had a job.  He used his first weeks in the program to complete his Class A truck driving certification, and the stability of the house let him work, save, and plan without the weight of rent hanging over him.  By the time he graduated, he had enough saved to move into his own place and make a down payment on something he never expected to own outright: a boat, financed through a family friend.

Ask Bobby what set the program apart from others he's experienced, and he doesn't hesitate.  Freedom.  Not the absence of structure, but the presence of trust. 

"We had a lot more freedom than just about any other program I've been in," he said.  

A curfew, yes, but also the ability to come and go, to hold a job, to be treated like a man capable of managing his own life.  Ten guys under one roof, and by his account, hardly a conflict among them. 

"It kind of ran itself like home," he said. "It really did."

That word, home, comes up again and again when Bobby talks about the house.  A pool table.  A backyard gym.  A safe place to return to at the end of a long shift.  For a man rebuilding his life one paycheck at a time, having somewhere that felt less like a program and more like a household made all the difference.

Five months into living on his own, Bobby is still working nearly every day, still driving, still saving.  He spends his off hours at food banks in Orange County and in Las Vegas when the road takes him there, giving back the way he learned during his time at Grandma’s House of Hope.  He gives most of the credit to God.  He gives the rest to the people who believed a solid foundation was worth building in the first place.

When asked what he'd tell someone weighing whether to reach out for help, his answer was immediate:

"Go. It's a no-brainer. You'll get on your feet. They'll take care of you, physically and emotionally."

And to someone considering giving?

"Probably one of the best places to give your money to. They help so many people in so many ways."

Bobby says he wants to be a pillar in his community now, the same way Grandma's House of Hope was a pillar for him.  It's a simple way of putting it, but it captures something true about what reentry looks like when it works: not just a roof over someone's head, but the relationships and trust that let a person stand back up on their own.

Grandma's House of Hope's Re-Entry Bridge Housing Program provides transitional housing for men re-entering the community after incarceration, in partnership with Project Kinship.  Participants receive case management, housing navigation support, a two-year AfterCare component, and access to the Alumni Association as they rebuild their lives.