I stayed the night at the warming shelter and this was my experience

Ridiculous or brilliant, spending the night at Socorro’s warming center was an idea I couldn’t shake. When I ran it by Shay Kelley, she thought it was great and I was welcome to check it out.

Shay is the board chair of Puerto Seguro Harbor (PSI) in Socorro, a non-profit organization that offers services for people facing poverty, such as meals, showers, clothing, emergency food and addiction rehabilitation. In the last year or so they have expanded their cooling centers in the summer and warming centers in the winter, providing shelter from the extreme weather.

She gave me all the details of when they would be open, explaining there was a stretch of cold days ahead I could pick from and I decided on Sunday night.

Not everyone was as encouraging as Shay. I was surprised by some of the reactions I received. Several people seemed confused and worried something terrible would happen to me. Then there was my kid who asked if they could come with me and see what it was like. Because I have tried to instill curiousity over fear in my children, I felt a moment of pride.

I once lived a free-spirited life, traveling and living in everything from tents to huts to earthships, ready for the next adventure via hitchhiking, train or bus. But somehow over the years I have turned into Winnie the Pooh, content in my 100-acre wood with all my animal friends. These days I easily get homesick and I rarely step away from my regular routine at home.

I wasn’t sure what to expect and I had no idea what to wear or bring. Like a kid dressing for their first day of school I didn’t want to be a poser but I also didn’t want to stand out like a sore thumb. I decided to go practical. I figured I’d rather have extra layers than not enough. I settled on long underwear, jeans, a hoodie and a jacket with a blanket and book packed in my backpack. It was basically an outfit out of my winter farm chore collection.

When I walked in a little after 8 p.m. several people had already settled inside. The supervisor offered me a smile and asked if I wanted a cot. She explained that people were allowed to come and go as they pleased, but if you reserved a cot and left, and someone else needed it, then it would be given to them.

It seemed fair enough to me.

She asked me for some basic information; maybe some hesitancy showed on my face, and she added that my information wouldn’t be shared or used against me.

Walking into the living room area was nostalgic. I felt I was walking in someone’s grandma’s living room, and I sank into the couch. The walls and decorations were homey but not cluttered. The TV which served as a focal point hanging above the hot coffee pot was playing a light-hearted sitcom I’ve never seen before. A couple of bookcases against the wall had paperbacks that looked like romance novels from where I sat. There was also a small stack of games and puzzles.

Four guys were already hanging out quietly when I claimed my spot.

The supervisor started calling guys back into one room lined with cots to figure out which ones they wanted. Then she called me. She led me down a hallway sprinkled with colorful notes of what people were thankful for, remnants from Thanksgiving, was my guess. She took me to a room reserved for women, lined with shoes and clothes. A paper sign taped to the wall read “Welcome to Puerto Seguro, one bag of clothes per day, Thank you!!”

The supervisor shared her story about how she ended up in Socorro and eventually at PSI. She and her husband first started off as volunteers and then became employees through the new city funding. She didn’t believe in judging people and did her best to take care of everyone who came through the door.

She had a motherly way about her that I noticed earlier. The kind of mom that doesn’t take nonsense but would be the first to offer comfort if something was wrong. At no point did I feel unsafe or uncomfortable, but her presence was comforting.

I overheard her that night tell someone she was a mama bear and I knew it to be true.

I ended up spending the rest of the evening hanging out watching TV with the guys. I’m not sure anyone was really watching, but I was just taking in the scene and texting back my family members letting them know I was good.

A couple of women came in at different points, one to use the shower and the other asking to borrow the phone. Other than that, I was the only woman besides the supervisor. There were about five or six men, it’s hard to say if more came through while I was asleep.

They were quiet and respectful. I shook hands, exchanged names and hometowns with some while others didn’t look my way. They ate the candy and snacks the supervisor had given out as a couple of puppies played tug-of-war around the room. Being the animal lover I am, I was easily entertained by their antics. I exchanged some conversations with a guy sitting next to me. We discovered that he loved city life while I loved the country. I sipped on black coffee from a styrofoam cup until I was too sleepy to stay awake.

When I made my way into the sleeping area, I saw the supervisor had left a bright green index card with my name on it lying on a cot along with a pillow and sleeping bag. Seeing my name written like that, I couldn’t help but feel special. She had also set up a heater and another cot ready just in case another woman came in.

I honestly couldn’t believe how comfortable the cot was. I laughed to myself, thinking about how I had been sleeping on a crappy cot and showering with a hose outside when I was offered a job at the Chieftain. At that time my house was under construction and taking a lot longer than I had anticipated. That summer my kids had brought home a puppy they found at the dollar store dumpster and shared my cot with the little mutt.

But as I lay there, I couldn’t help but think about the tough years of housing and food insecurity that I had gone through as a child and later as a parent. I have felt the hot shame of standing in line at food banks more times than I can remember and felt like an inconvenience to family and friends, but I had never had to stay at the shelter. I was overwhelmed with the privilege of having the choice to stay here simply out of curiosity.

I noticed the room was warmer than my own home, which can be pretty chilly after the wood fire burns out. I felt cozy in my cot — the only thing that was missing was a puppy or a kitten at my feet. But I was able to push out thoughts of home and fall asleep.

Every winter, for the newspaper, I have been covering abandoned house fires in Socorro believed to have started by people trying to stay warm in the elements. It’s caused frustration between firefighters, property owners, residents, tax payers and the unhoused. I’ve seen it discussed on Facebook and in city and county meetings. The question and blame of who is responsible has been asked, fingers have been pointed, and needless to say, it’s a complicated issue.

I didn’t find the answers to all the questions I had from one night at the warming center, but I did find comfort in the kindness of strangers, and I wondered how many other people had, too.