Many readers will recall our story about "Charlie," his challenges living homeless in Edmonds, and the failed efforts of many to try to help him. We last wrote about him in June 2021, a time when things were pretty bad. Since then, thanks to a lot of help from a lot of people, he was able to turn his life around and begin living -- in the words of several who helped him -- "his best life ever."
But sadly, he was not to enjoy it for long.
"Charlie" died in June 2024, a few days after his 41st birthday, from a massive heart attack brought on by untreated type 2 diabetes, a poor diet, and the insidiously debilitating effects of years living on streets.
We called him "Charlie" in our earlier story to protect his identity. But now that he is gone, we can say his name: Albert Hamilton.
He was autistic, schizophrenic, sometimes disruptive and other times placid, suffering from ADD/ADHD. He was intelligent, caring, argumentative, loud, had no drug or alcohol issues and given to bizarre behavior. He just did not fit the mold, leaving Edmonds police and social workers flummoxed in their efforts to help him.
At the time of our first story, Albert was a growing a civic headache for Edmonds. A homeless guy who frequently slept in the Edmonds Library Plaza area, he was removed by the cops, told he was violating the city ordinance by setting up camp there, issued a citation, and put in a motel for a few days at city expense. But he returned to the plaza, so was handcuffed, arrested and jailed for the night -- but was back on the streets by morning.
As we reported earlier, Albert was a homegrown problem -- he didn't come from somewhere else. He was born in Snohomish County. His mother, he said, couldn't take care of him; as a toddler, he went to live with an aunt and uncle in Lynnwood. What followed, he said, were some juvenile scrapes, a first job and a bank account at 14, dropping out of Edmonds-Woodway High School. On June 8, 2001, at age 15, he remembers he was sent to his first group home, where he was "supposed to learn to know yourself better and love yourself." He would run away; the cops always brought him back.
This established a pattern that would dog him for the rest of his life.
Retired Edmonds police officer Don Kinney was among Abert's first contacts with the system that would end up turning his life around.
"I met him on the streets while on routine patrol," Kinney recalled. "He was sleeping in the Calvary Church up at Five Corners. I kept seeing him around, and started talking to him. He was clean. He took baths. He walked everywhere and seemed healthy. He adamantly avoided drugs."
Kinney began taking a special interest in Albert. He gave him food, a flashlight and ultimately a Chromebook, which Albert used for arranging music.
Another person who touched his life was Mindy Woods, City of Edmonds human services program manager. Her job involves establishing relationships with service providers and organizations to connect people with the resources they need - things like household support grants, motel vouchers, food and free cell phones.
"I started working for human services in May 2020, and within the first couple of weeks I was called about Albert - he was my first client," she explained. "At the time he was camping out in the library plaza, and came to the attention of police for more than just living there - his disruptive and bizarre behavior could be frightening and disturbing. At one point parks department personnel were giving a tour of the library plaza to someone who wanted to rent it for a wedding, and Albert popped out saying, 'Hi, I live here, want me to show you around?' like he was the host or something."
According to Woods, Albert was neat and always kept his stuff stowed away during the day. He even asked parks personnel to give him a broom so he could tidy the place up, but he quickly became loud, argumentative and profane when they balked at doing this.
"He had a booming voice, and his loud, boisterous behavior put a lot of people off," Woods explained. "Over the years we developed a lively and frequent email and phone relationship. I think he found me easy to talk to and be open with since we'd both experience homelessness. We shared back and forth about the frustrations that come with this - he knew I'd also walked that road. One day he left me a letter proposing that we meet up in Edmonds with pens and a stack of yellow pads and write our life stories together."
But part of having a relationship with Albert was understanding and overlooking his mood swings that could take him from sweet and low key to loud and profane in a New York second.
"Once when I asked what I could do for him, he said I should get him a three-bedroom house," she recalled. "When I told him I couldn't do that, he cursed, screamed and hung up the phone. But the next day he was back again, best of friends."
Woods went on to explain that Albert's mix of schizophrenia, Aspergers, ADD and ADHD kept him from being able to fit in with traditional shelters and group homes. Shelters do not typically have mental health professionals on staff and being in any kind of group living or therapy situation exacerbated his erratic behavior.
"He simply could not function in a loud, noisy space with a bunch of people he didn't know," explained Woods. "It wasn't that he was refusing services so much as none of the available services were the right fit for his needs. He needed something different. Congregate living doesn't typically work for people on the ADHD spectrum."
But after considerable searching, Woods was able to find a place for Albert.
"It took me five months of looking," she recalled, "but I found him a motel respite program in Everett where he could have his own private room, and social services could come there and bring help to him."
But that program was funded with COVID money, and when that dried up the program ended.
Her next step was to refer Albert to Erin Nathan, who at the time worked as a care coordinator for the City of Edmonds under a contract with Compass Health.
Through Compass, Nathan was able to place Albert in Andy's Place, Compass Health's permanent supportive housing complex in Everett, where he had his own apartment.
"Andy's Place provides wrap around services," Woods explained. "This includes social workers and others who are brought in to help those who can't live on their own and need extra support services."
And it was there that something - or more accurately someone - new came into Albert's life that set him on the road to success: a fellow resident named Carolyn Seese, who had been through many of the same challenges as Albert. Coincidentally, they had met several years before through Special Olympics, but had gone their separate ways only to have their paths cross again at Andy's Place.
They found much common ground, and along the way affection, intimacy and love. They decided that they were a couple, and soon after found an apartment and moved in together.
"It didn't take us long to realize that we had needed each other for a long time," Seese said. "We were really meant for each other, and I never wanted to leave his side. He was bipolar - sometimes up and happy and sometimes angry and agitated, but that was OK - I was fine with letting him be by himself when he needed it."
She went on to relate how Albert was really into music, and how he liked to turn up the volume to where it shook the walls and made the floors vibrate, and she was fine with this - she was just happy to see him happy.
"We were together for three years," she said. "It was wonderful. Sure, we'd get mad at each other at times, but the next day we were fine. We had something between us that never stopped."
While they were living together, Albert's interests spread to writing and computer programming, and shortly before his death he submitted an employment application to Microsoft. He continued to stay in touch with Woods and others in the Edmonds community who had touched his life. And as his happiness grew, he was driven to share his success and joy with others.
This included frequent visits to the Edmonds Neighborhood City Hall on Highway 99, where he became a regular, transitioning from coming in to find help years ago to giving help today.
"He actually became kind of an ambassador for us," recalled Dave Bartels, Neighborhood City Hall administrator.
"He helped guide other folks who dropped in to find the resources they need and offering to help. He'd sometimes bring food to put in our fridge to give away to anyone in need. I think he found some meaning in his life through this. He was a man of dreams, confident in his ability. He never gave up."
According to Seese, during this time Albert's weight ballooned up to around 285 lbs, and this combined with a poor diet that included lots of candy and junk food washed down with sugary, carbonated soft drinks led - she believes - to exacerbating his type 2 diabetes.
"He was feeling poorly one day, and we went to the clinic where blood tests showed his blood sugar at 600 - normal is 100-125," she recalled. "Type 2 diabetics have a high risk of heart attack, stroke, etc., and I believe this led to his fatal heart attack.
"He was home the day it happened, June 12," she recalled. "He was standing there and he just dropped. I called 911 and gave him 20 minutes of CPR before the EMTs arrived."
They continued it on the way to the hospital, where Albert was put on life support -- but it wasn't enough. He was disconnected four days later, and in accordance with his wishes his organs were donated to help others.
"He always wanted to help people," Seese stressed. "Now there are people walking around with his organs - it's like he's living through them. I was thinking we'd grow old together, that I'd have him my entire life."
"He was a community member whether folks like it or not," Woods said. "He struggled all his life, but he was dealt a crummy hand. I'm so honored and grateful that I was able to touch his life and be part of changing his trajectory. He had the same hopes and dreams as anyone else, and to finally see him living his best life was nothing short of wonderful. He went out on top."
One of Albert's great loves was riding the Washington State Ferries. Accordingly, Seese is working with Woods and the ferry system to plan an interment of his ashes in Puget Sound off one of the state ferries.