Editor’s note: Names have been changed to preserve anonymity.
The white house sits at the corner of redemption and temptation. First Presbyterian Church to the south; a well known “dope hole” to the north.
The nearby two-story complex is known to throw hard parties. Money exchanges hands. Cars drive in and out. Loiterers stagger around the grounds.
But the white house is a haven from that life. Known as the Hull House, the building supports three different 12-step recovery groups. It’s pristine façade shines as a beacon of light in the Historic Downtown Plant City neighborhood.
Alcoholics and drug addicts aren’t the only ones who flock to its wooden porch. Gamblers, over-eaters, smokers and even sex addicts find peace from the warped reality of their lives.
“It’s a way of life,” member Jacob says about the 12-step program. “Anyone can use it.”
Entering through the back door, a screened-in porch shelters a group of members taking a smoke break after their 7 a.m. meeting Friday. They are friendly, optimistic.
The scent of stale cigarettes wafts into the kitchen. Through that door is the living room and one of two main meeting rooms. A giant whiteboard is covered with grids and words. A packed schedule of meetings is posted for anyone to see — and to use.
On one end is a celebratory corner. The January anniversaries of sobriety are posted. Jacob has been sober for 29 years.
Slowly, the group filters in from the porch. They laugh and joke. If they weren’t at the house, they could fool anyone into thinking they didn’t carry with them a tainted past.
But, it is the current time that is the most important. They live day by day.
In the house of healing.
THE CYCLE TO BREAK
It has been a long time since Jacob has hit the bottle. But, he still remembers those dark days.
“I was 10 feet tall, bulletproof, the best-looking man in the bar and hadn’t showered for a week,” Jacob says. “I alienated myself from God, life, people, family. I didn’t like myself, couldn’t get peace. There was a vacancy, a loneliness, that settled around me.”
He finally sought help, going to rehab for a month to get clean. The drugs took a while to clear his system, almost getting him kicked out of the program. But, he made it through.
The next step was 12. He got involved with a program on none other than a Friday the 13th.
When someone told him Alcoholics Anonymous wasn’t ready for him, and he wasn’t ready for it, he continued to go — out of spite.
The next thing he knew, he had lasted in the program for one year. Then, it blossomed into a roller coaster of decades.
Jacob has by far the longest-standing anniversary out of the January dates at the Hull House. But, he keeps coming back year after year. His reasoning: to be reminded.
“Once, I was a cucumber,” Jacob says. “Then, I was put into alcoholic vinegar. I turned into a pickle. I can never go back to being a cucumber.”
But, his even greater purpose is to help others in their healing process. Hundreds come through the house every week. He gets a chance to impact all of them.
One such person is Lacy. Sitting at the table, it’s easy to see the redhead’s enthusiasm. Her feisty personality has made her a notable figure in the short time she’s been at the house.
She came searching for a way out on her own.
When her sponsor from rehab showed her how to look for a program in the area, she stumbled across the Hull House online. Nervously, she stepped through the threshold on that first day.
A month later, she accidentally realized she was court ordered to attend a recovery group, at least two a week. Lacy is here multiple times each day.
Lacy has an attachment to Jacob. He even picks her up to take her to meetings.
“These people have been here when they said they would,” Lacy says. “They’re there. They mean a lot more to be than some will know.”
She begins to tear up. The hot droplets fall off her cheek, shedding a thankfulness.
“When it started working for me, I wanted to scream it on the rooftops,” Lacy says. “It’s not just about drinking and drugging. I can be a mom again.”
Her husband was also an addict. Mother to five kids, Lacy often brings them to the Hull House. She knows they are safe in the sanctuary.
“I want to help everybody,” Lacy says, echoing Jacob’s purpose.
They had entered a different cycle than the one of abuse. It was a cycle of prayer and helping. The cycle of healing.
THE PROGRAMS
Many are sent to their first recovery groups by a judge or employer. Some come on their own. But, there is a consensus among the members that, for the programs to work, you have to want to change.
“The one thing you have to change in recovery is everything,” Lacy says.
The fellowship is meant for men and women to share their experiences, so they can solve their common problem and help others recover. The program works on the basis of 12 steps. Starting with admitting their problem, the steps take the seeker through spirituality, admittance to others, prayer, making amends to those who have been hurt and awakening.
Although the program relies heavily on spirituality, it is not a Christian-based program. Spirituality can be anything. At one point, the Hull House even had a Buddhist monk in the program.
Most meetings at the Hull House are open and accept anyone with any problem. A chairperson facilitates the meeting, leading readings from the “big book,” manuals specific to each recovery group. Then the meeting encourages members to bring up issues or to share.
“Today is a message of recovery,” Jacob says. “And there is a solution.”
Contact Amber Jurgensen at ajurgensen@plantcityobserver.com.
HISTORY OF HULL HOUSE
The historic home is a beautiful sanctuary for mending. Crown molding regally lines the ceiling. A crafted fireplace is hidden behind a false wall. In the front room, a chandelier hangs, glittering in space. Another fireplace is also in that room. Women’s groups like to meet in that wallpapered refuge. A twisted staircases leads up to the offices of a puppet ministry.
The house belonged to Col. Edgar Hull and his wife, Frances. The Hulls were well known jewelers in the community.
After telling a white lie about his age to join the U.S. Navy during World War I, Edgar and his mother joined his brother in Plant City. He worked for a jewelry store on South Collins Street, which later moved to the Arcade building. In 1935, he bought the store for $800, applying for a loan from M.E. Moody, the president of Hillsborough Bank.
After their death, the home went up for sale. First Presbyterian Church bought it to house a variety of its ministries. Organizations, such as the Boy Scouts, Meals on Wheels and more, once called Hull House home.
When a recovery group asked the church if it could also use the space, the elders and the Rev. Dr. David Delph recruited Laura Midyette to serve as the liaison. She herself has attended a recovery group, Adult Children of Alcoholics. Her passion for the cause shows up in every splinter of the Hull House.