Your Support in Action
Flipping through a well-loved photo album, Jose smiles as he points to the faces of his aunties, grandchildren, seven brothers, and three sisters – including his twin. His finger hovers over a picture of one of his younger brothers, “He’s very skinny. It’s hard to eat and live in Cuba.”
Born and raised in Havana, Jose’s life is a tapestry woven with joy, laughter, and adversity. In 2024, the Cuban Observatory of Human Rights estimated that nearly nine out of ten Cuban families live in extreme poverty, surviving on less than $1.90 a day. Most of Jose’s family still lives in Cuba, and communication is challenging. However, he holds tightly to his photos and memories, a reminder of the bonds that distance cannot break.
Jose doesn’t recall the year, but he remembers it was sometime in May when he and his brother left Cuba behind, seeking a better life. Landing first in Arkansas, the transition wasn’t easy. Amid the challenges of a new country, he found himself falling into the trap of alcohol addiction. “Because of the addiction, I lost myself without even realizing it,” he shares. Yet, even in his dark moments, Jose found a deep resilience. He poetically shares, “my poverty is my richness,” a simple truth that reminds him to find value in what he has and not in what he lacks.
Today, Jose feels grounded as he continues to rebuild his life with the support of his Homebridge Home Care Professional (HCP), Jonathan, whom he affectionately calls his friend. When Jose began facing serious health issues, Jonathan was right there by his side, accompanying him to every doctor’s appointment and ensuring he was understood and cared for.
“The doctors didn’t understand me,” Jose explains. “They couldn’t understand my accent and would tell me to be quiet. But my friend [Jonathan] was there. He helped me, and now I’m doing much better.”
Jose lives in Permanent Supportive Housing for formerly homeless adults, and his studio unit doesn’t have a kitchen. He's signed up for Meals on Wheels, a program that delivers meals to homebound individuals, primarily seniors. But, to prevent his food from spoiling, Jose received a mini fridge through Homebridge’s Client Care Fund - a small comfort that’s made a big difference in his daily life.
“Things are much better,” he says with a smile. “You have to be positive. You have to think positive.”
Jose’s story is one of quiet strength and a powerful reminder that even in hardship, hope can take root. Through resilience, support, and the bonds of friendship, he illustrated that even in the darkest times, we can begin to thrive again - our struggles do not define us; rather, how we rise is what truly shapes our lives.
When Jerry is asked to describe himself, he pauses – long enough that you feel the weight of the years behind the silence. Finally, he says, “Father.” Another pause. “Hard worker.”
Those two words once built his whole life.
Jerry met his wife 36 years ago in San Francisco, where he raised four kids – one daughter and three sons. Two weren’t biologically his, but he raised them anyway. “They call me dad because they want to,” he says with pride. A Louisiana boy at heart, he and his wife escaped the city and bought 40 acres in Lake County, investing in a future they thought would last forever. “Life was good,” he remembers.
A carpenter and a heavy equipment operator, Jerry lights up when he talks about his machines, “I love moving earth; leaving a mark.”
But seven years ago, the fires came and erased everything - the land, the home, and the life they built. After that, Jerry and his wife bounced from place to place. Then, his truck was repossessed. By January, he was back in San Francisco, homeless with nowhere to go.
Jerry shares that his wife and their daughter live in Dublin. Alzheimer's and dementia have taken much of her memory. His sons don’t know he’s homeless. “They think I’m doing something different,” he says. “I don’t want them worrying.”
Since the fires, Jerry’s body has broken under the stress, suffering from four heart attacks, three strokes, open-heart surgery, and a spinal disease that’s left him in a wheelchair.
“I’m trying to be who I’ve always been,” he says, “But I can’t get housing. I can’t get anything.”
Jerry has never used drugs or drunk alcohol, yet he slips through every system meant to help. Now a Homebridge client, his needs are simple and urgent – necessities like clothes and pants that most people never have to think twice about. Unfortunately, the Client Care Fund, a pool of money for our clients’ needs, is depleted.
A man who once built homes and shaped the earth is now fighting for the most fundamental pieces of dignity. Jerry spent his life leaving a lasting mark on others; now it's our turn to ensure his legacy includes the care he deserves.
Leaving a cart full of clothes outside the door, Elizabeth eases herself into a chair in one of Jerrold Commons’ meeting rooms. She explains that a misdiagnosed lower back fracture has left her with lasting complications and severe pain. The single bed in her small cabin is too uncomfortable to sleep on. “I’m up all night tossing and turning,” she says. Lately, sleeping on the floor is the only way she’s able to get rest. A heated back massager could bring much-needed relief. “I don’t want pain killers,” she explains. “But I’m running out of options.”
Despite living with daily pain, Elizabeth has become a steady and uplifting presence at Jerrold Commons. She manages donations from her local Buy Nothing Facebook group, requesting items on behalf of fellow residents, picking them up, and ensuring they reach the people who need them most. This routine brings her purpose. “It feels good,” she says, “in a way that helps keep my mind off the pain.”
Elizabeth attended Chico State University and spent 12 years as a hospice care nurse, building a life in Paradise – a small town near Chico. Then, in 2018, the Camp Fire destroyed everything. She lost her mother, relapsed after 11 years of sobriety, and eventually found herself living in a tent in San Francisco.
However, Elizabeth’s spirit remains unbroken. She lights up when she talks about the Mission District, where she hopes to live again. She once worked as a street vendor there and loved how naturally community formed through barter, clothing swaps, and the simple act of sharing what you have. “Passing things on,” she says, “spreading the love, it just feels right.”
Even now, with challenges that would overwhelm many, Elizabeth continues to foster connection wherever she goes. Her generosity, her care for the people around her, and her belief in giving what you can creates a circle of support that strengthens her entire community.
Bonnie has lived many lives - a chef, business owner, activist, and mother. Across every chapter, one thing has remained constant: her commitment to caring for others and staying connected to her community. Today, with the support of Homebridge, Bonnie is living independently in San Francisco - the city she loves.
“I was homeless in San Francisco, off and on, for about eight years,” she shares. “And now I have this great apartment with an incredible view.”
Bonnie grew up in California, but during her second marriage, she moved to the Midwest, settling in Des Moines, Iowa. There, she built a successful catering business rooted in her love of food and teaching. While working at Hy-Vee and leading cooking classes, people began asking if she catered. One request led to another, and before long, Bonnie was catering large-scale events - some with more than 1,000 guests - including gatherings attended by notable figures such as Bill and Hillary Clinton.
Her catering work was closely tied to her passion for civic life. Bonnie was deeply involved in the Democratic Party and often exchanged catering services for access to live civic music performances. “Lots of classical and jazz,” she says. “It was fun for my kids, too, to meet these people and go to these concerts.”
Over time, however, the physical demands of catering became unsustainable. Living with rheumatoid arthritis and other chronic health conditions, Bonnie was eventually forced to step away from the work she loved - a difficult transition after years of building a business and a life around community.
Bonnie is the mother of three children. She has two sons - one who served in the Marine Corps and now serves in the Army, and another who is a licensed social worker at a nonprofit in Portland, Oregon, providing one-on-one counseling to young adults and youth. While she no longer has contact with her daughter, Bonnie remains deeply proud of her sons and the paths they’ve chosen.
Today, Bonnie lives in an apartment with a stunning view of San Francisco. She is grateful for the stability of housing, while also navigating the realities of living on Social Security. She receives $24 a month for food - an amount that falls far short of meeting basic needs, especially for someone who values healthy eating and cooking.
With ongoing health needs and frequent medical appointments, Bonnie relies on consistent support. Homebridge provides assistance that helps her navigate daily life and appointments, allowing her to remain housed, independent, and engaged in her community.
Even now, Bonnie continues to give back. She serves as President of the Advisory Council for Miracle Messages, an organization she first connected with during her time experiencing homelessness. One of her favorite ways to help is simple, but meaningful.
“I go out in my wheelchair to run errands,” she shares. “And when I see people who are homeless, I give them Bombas socks and a card and tell them about [Miracle Messages].”
As Bonnie approaches her 70th birthday, she’s looking forward to celebrating with friends and colleagues who share her passion for community, connection, and advocacy. Her story reflects resilience and purpose - and shows how, with the right support, people can continue living full lives rooted in dignity, contribution, and care.