Dozens of detox beds for homeless residents are about to open downtown

Dozens of detox beds for homeless people are opening up this week in downtown San Diego, a major expansion of addiction services in the region at a time when many forms of aid are at risk of cuts.

The 44 spots are on the second floor of Father Joe’s Villages renovated Paul Mirabile Center. Participants commit to what is generally a 10- to 14-day stay before having the option of moving into the nonprofit’s sober-living wing.

Screenings are already underway and the first residents are expected to move in at noon Tuesday.

“What’s been missing in this ecosystem, in a sense, has been these beds,” Deacon Jim Vargas, Father Joe’s president and CEO, said during a tour of the center at 1501 Imperial Avenue.

The recent history of the building reflects a shift in how some leaders think about the homelessness crisis.

Until late last year, the structure was a low-barrier homeless shelter, which meant people could stay there even if they continued to use drugs or alcohol off-site. There is certainly a shortage of those types of beds — the vast majority of individuals asking to stay in the city of San Diego’s shelter system are turned away, generally because facilities are full — but the lack of detox options may be even more striking.

All of San Diego County recently had only 78 detox beds that accepted ​Medi-Cal, the state health insurance for low-income residents, officials have said. This has created bottlenecks for social workers and police officers who often struggle to find spots for people voluntarily asking to get clean.

As a result, Democratic and Republican leaders around the nation have pushed to boost investment in addiction treatment. The San Diego City Council voted last year to streamline the permitting process for those facilities and a bipartisan group of California lawmakers passed Assembly Bill 255 earlier this month to make it easier for the state to fund drug-free housing.

Gov. Gavin Newsom must now decide whether to sign the latter proposal into law.

In the meantime, Father Joe’s has relied on private donors to overhaul the Paul Mirabile Center. Renovations cost about $1.5 million and around $3.6 million will be required each year to maintain the hundreds of beds in the sober-living area.

The nonprofit is counting on government support through Medi-Cal to cover the detox program’s estimated $2 million annual operating cost. Medi-Cal, however, is heavily dependent on funding from Washington D.C., where President Donald Trump is trying to dramatically reduce the size of the federal government and slash a range of aid.

“That’s of concern to us,” Vargas said.

Staffers plan to open up the detox initiative incrementally and potentially reach capacity by early next year.

Participants will stay in bunk beds spread across 11 shared bedrooms. Pets are allowed. The complex includes health and dental clinics as well as behavioral health clinicians, so leaders hope most needs can be met within the building. Father Joe’s has also agreed to both accept patients from (and send people to) the McAlister Institute, a local addiction treatment organization.

“From the very first moment, we’re talking about discharge,” said Manny Bedard, the program manager. “The reason people come to detox is to clear their head enough so they can make a decision about what happens next.”

The main door is only locked from the outside, but anyone who leaves without a staff escort will have to re-start the detox process if they want to return.

For those who finish the program and want to stay on site, Father Joe’s is keeping beds available in the nearby sober-living area, which is known as the Reaching Independence and Self-Empowerment initiative, or RISE.

RISE opened Jan. 1 and has so far served 508 people, according to a nonprofit spokesperson.

While the program can last a year, 290 have already left. Of those, 71 made it into permanent housing. Around two dozen left for institutional settings, such as hospitals, or temporary locations like friend’s houses or motels.

Father Joe’s did not have a breakdown of where the remaining 190 or so ended up, although leaders noted that some participants had repeatedly relapsed. When that happened, staffers worked to find other programs or shelters for those individuals.