“I grew up on the prison grounds at Parchman Prison in Mississippi. My dad was a warden, and my mom was a nurse. A few trusted female inmates kept my brothers, sisters, and me while our parents worked. These inmates lived in a bunkhouse behind our home, and sometimes, I spent the night with them. My parents treated the ones who worked around our house like family, showing us that all people deserve to be loved. Just because you go to prison doesn’t mean you are a terrible person.

Dad carried out two executions at Parchman. I sat on the front steps during one of them. There was an eeriness with candlelight vigils and protesters across the street. Dad found out one inmate was innocent, causing him to become an opponent of the death penalty. He wrote a book and did talk shows and newscasts. HBO even made a movie about it. 

Dad opened a new prison in south Mississippi, and we moved from Parchman. I was 15 when I met my future husband. Had no idea he was twenty. One day, I saw him at a gas station and walked over to speak. He was wearing a prison uniform. Oh no. I couldn’t date someone working at the prison, but my dad knew his family and thought well of him. We dated and got married. Thirty-four years and three kids later, we’re still together.

Both of my sons have cystic fibrosis, a terminal lung disease. I had my first son when I was 18. He was born early, and the doctors had to remove most of his intestines. He stayed in the ICU for four months and wasn’t expected to leave the hospital. Now he’s 33. My daughter is thirty and is a professional dancer; she recently found out she has rheumatoid arthritis. Our kids tell us they have terrible genes. I learned a lesson from the diseases that last a lifetime: don’t panic or get rattled. 

Our family moved to the Gulf Coast in 2005 for my husband’s job. Six weeks later, Hurricane Katrina hit. We lost everything and had nowhere to go. My kids were young and stayed with my parents; my husband and I slept on an air mattress in the lobby of his store. Then a job opened for my husband in Prattville. It was God’s timing for us to move.

It was also the time for my dream–cooking. I went to culinary school but left one month before graduation because my oldest son was ill and needed surgery. I took a five-year break to care for him. My husband surprised me by leasing a 200-year-old antebellum home in downtown Prattville to open a bakery and restaurant. I named it Sugar B’s in honor of my grandmother, who taught me how to cook. She was my hero. 

I loved the restaurant, and we were always booked with catering. But 2013 hit me hard. My youngest son was a freshman at the University of Alabama. His health took a turn, and he had to withdraw that semester. The doctors didn’t want him to return. Then both of my parents ended up in the ICU. I was going back and forth between my son and my parents and still running my restaurant and catering business. Dad passed away. Two weeks later, my mom was diagnosed with leukemia.

During that time, my husband came to me at work, ghostly white. The bank was foreclosing on our house. That didn’t make sense: we never missed a payment. Looters stole my husband’s identity when Hurricane Katrina destroyed our apartment; years later someone took out a fraudulent second mortgage in his name. 

We lived in an extended-stay motel and our kids stayed with friends because no one would rent to us with a foreclosure on our record. Being homeless was humiliating and embarrassing. Then, my mother died a few weeks later.

We rebuilt our lives from nothing. My youngest son graduated from college and wanted to be a lawyer. He got into Harvard Law School. He wanted to go there in honor of my dad, who used to guest teach there. Dad would tell my son he could change lives.

We stood in the hotel room looking over Cambridge. My son had just gotten a feeding tube, and this was so far away from home. What if something happened to him? He said, ‘They keep telling me I’m not supposed to live. But I’m from Prattville, Alabama, have cystic fibrosis, and got into Harvard Law School. How can I not go?’ He moved to Boston and had the best roommates who gave him the help he needed. Today, my son is a senator’s constitutional and criminal law specialist in Washington, DC.

My sons and daughter were finally doing okay, and I was at the top of my business, but I missed being on the Gulf Coast and closer to my family. When my husband got a job offer in Gulf Shores, it was time for another leap of faith. Maybe I could use the talents God gave me to help people and do something besides cooking. 

I became the Meals on Wheels coordinator for Ecumenical Ministries in South Baldwin. It was so much more than delivering meals to the elderly. It was providing social services and being the highlight of their day. I was promoted to the director and learned about homelessness in our area; it’s often from family situations. After Hurricane Sally, people were sleeping in their backyards because their homes were destroyed and they didn’t have insurance. Homelessness is also people with cancer or mothers with newborn babies living in their cars. We’ve documented 771 homeless people in Baldwin County; over 200 are kids, but we didn’t have many homeless services in Baldwin County. I started talking about doing more with Mitchell Lee of Lee Charities and Deann Servos from Prodisee Pantry. We did our research and started The Sea Glass Initiative in September 2023. People started coming fast. 

We are helping nurses, a lawyer, a retired fireman, a former police officer, and someone with a PhD. All living in their cars. One man is a lifelong resident of Fairhope. He can’t work because he needs a hip replacement. He can’t have the surgery because he lives in his car and can’t recover there. Stories like this change the perception of what homelessness looks like in our community. We have case management for budgeting, credit repair, medical care, and mental health–all barriers keeping people out of housing. We housed 35 people in our first year. We also provided some with bus tickets to reunite them with family anywhere in the U.S.. Our dream is to start a community council on homelessness with other agencies and build a state-of-the-art resource center where anyone can get help in one location.

I think of my dad and his legacy of giving second chances and not judging people. I have been at rock bottom and know how it feels to be homeless. But even in our worst times, there is always goodness and ways to serve outside of ourselves.”

Michelle