Homeless family finds the way back

By the winter of 2001, things had gotten desperate enough that Timoteo Adame and his two young sons were sleeping in their 1969 Chevy pickup, which he parked at night inside his foundering car-repair shop in Yakima County.

Across the street from the shop was the two-bedroom house he could no longer afford to rent for $425 a month.

He had been raising the boys — Tim, now 16; and Samuel, now 14 — since his marriage broke apart 13 years ago. A daughter, now 17, remained with her mother.

And so in November 2001, with about $400 cash, he decided it was time to leave Eastern Washington.

"I thought Seattle might have an opportunity for us. We left just with blankets and the clothes on our back," he remembered. "Everything else we left in storage and lost it — tools, furniture, pictures, toys, bikes, everything."

Life has taken a drastic turn for Adame.

Last month, he was promoted to manager of the Schuck's Auto Supply store in Bothell. He's earning about $35,000 a year and hoping for a bonus — his office wall is papered with corporate plaudits about increased sales. He's paying taxes, and dreaming of buying his own home.

But it was a three-year journey out of homelessness that couldn't have happened without a lot of help from various government and private agencies — help that added up to more than $50,000.

Not all of that was cash. It included:

• A $10,500 federal Pell Grant for undergraduate college studies, which doesn't have to be repaid.

• What would be the market rental value of subsidized housing that Adame lived in.

• The cost of the Salvation Army staff who helped Adame.

The Salvation Army is one of a dozen organizations that receives aid from The Seattle Times Fund For The Needy. Last year, the agency got $184,000, part of which was used to help make rent payments for families such as the Adames.

But in these fiscally conservative times, the $50,000 worth of services the Adames received does stand out at first glance.

"Why is it worth it?" said Tom Walker, social-services secretary for the regional Salvation Army.

"It is worth it even if only the financial balance sheet for society is considered: a few years of investment versus a subsequent lifetime of productive activity," Walker said. "Perhaps a cycle prevented with children's lives changed. Health problems averted. Addiction and crime avoided as ways to cope with hopelessness."

Breakup, then downturn

Adame, 44, grew up in Texas and Eastern Washington. He joined the Navy as a young man and, after his stint was up, returned to Texas, married, had children and got a job installing car air conditioners and fixing diesel engines.

When his marriage fell apart, he moved his sons to Wapato, Yakima County, to take over a friend's auto shop.

That was in 1998. For a time, things were going well, with the shop grossing $3,500 a month. "I was doing great. Rented a nice little house across the street, two bedrooms, nice yard," Adame said.

The stock-market collapse of 2000 didn't affect just dot-com investors. In Wapato, a bakery closed, a laundry, and a bank moved out, said Adame.

"Everything froze up," he said.

Finally it was all too much.

Arriving in Seattle, he spent a little of his $400 cash on cheap motels, the ones on Aurora Avenue North that run $35 a night.

Then Adame began his trek through the social-assistance net, receiving motel vouchers from a number of agencies.

Adame's sons attended First Place, a school that helps the homeless. Meanwhile, Adame said he kept making phone calls to auto shops, looking for work, but finding nothing. From the Emergency Family Shelter, run by Hopelink, he got an apartment and access to a food bank.

In January 2002, the Adames moved to a two-bedroom apartment at the YWCA Family Village in Redmond, where tenants contribute 30 percent of their income to the rent. Adame also received food stamps. At the Family Village, Adame noticed a flier from Lake Washington Technical College. He paid a visit, found out about the Pell Grants and the various classes, including a program to get an industrial plant maintenance certificate.

"I had to do it. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity," he said.

He also enrolled in the school's work-study program — 30 hours a week at $9 an hour, and attending classes full time. He earned his certificate, but still couldn't find a well-paying job, and his time at Family Village was running out.

He turned to the Salvation Army and ended up talking to Barbara Gamba, a case manager in its Rent Stabilization Program.

"She was our savior. She said, 'I'll help you,' " said Adame. That was in August 2003.

Among the first things that Gamba did, besides provide Adame with a large bag of groceries from the agency's food bank, was give him some apartment referrals, including one to a large complex in Lake Forest Park.

A few days later, Adame and his sons had a home. He paid nearly a quarter of the $798 monthly rent, as he then was receiving state aid.

The next month, Gamba wrote in her notes, Adame came in with exciting news: He had found a job at Schuck's, 23-27 hours a week at $9 an hour.

"No stopping him"

"I started at the bottom, at the cash register, but I worked my way up," he said.

Gamba wrote in one of her reports, "In the beginning, Timoteo was filled with feelings of self-doubt, low self-esteem and was troubled by feelings of inadequacy and worthlessness. He worked on enhancing his strengths and as time passes his self-esteem improved and when he went to work there was no stopping him."

The Salvation Army continued to help Adame: food, gas for his car, Christmas toys.

Gamba also helped him apply for the Windermere Foundation's program offering a year's rent payments for those who qualify. Adame remembered Gamba calling him in 2004: "You've won the lottery for the Windermere program!"

It was finally last year that Adame stopped receiving any financial aid. He was working full-time at Schuck's, paying his own rent, occasionally taking his kids shopping on his days off.

"I had a lot of people supporting me. They had faith in me, and I didn't let them down," he said.

He recently called Gamba and told her that if she had a client who needed a part-time job, to come see him at Schuck's.

"I want to give them a chance," said Adame. "She gave me a chance."

Erik Lacitis: 206-464-2237 or elacitis@seattletimes.com