Doug’s Story

Doug never imagined he would become homeless at 72 years old.

When the COVID pandemic hit Alberta hard, Doug and his wife Linda made the difficult decision to move to Victoria. They wanted to be closer to Doug’s sister and believed B.C. might weather the crisis more safely. At the time, Doug was working full-time as a professional carpet cleaner. Like so many others, he and Linda were doing their best to hold on, support their community, and manage the uncertainty that defined those early pandemic years. With the world in upheaval and the medical system struggling, they feared the worst.

Unfortunately, the worst happened for Doug and Linda.

Linda passed away within the first years of the pandemic. After nearly 38 years of marriage, Doug lost the love of his life. Grief took hold, and Doug sank into a deep depression. He tried to keep working—managing three days a week as a temporary labourer—but it wasn’t enough to survive on and Doug lost his home.

Some nights, he would give a friend $20 to sleep on their couch. Most nights, he would be tenting somewhere outside. Doug doesn’t suffer from addiction or use any substances; he doesn’t even consider himself much of a drinker. But, when it was especially cold, and he worried for his safety outside, he would feign drunkenness so he could be admitted to a sobering centre just for a warm place to rest. In the morning, he was back outside.

Doug found it incredibly hard to trust anyone or accept help. Life had hit him very hard, and when he thought about shelters, he imagined a cold, lonely box of a room—another place where he might sink even deeper into his depression. It frightened him.

After years of being stuck in survival mode, Doug finally said yes to help at Our Place.

He was still frightened. He didn’t know what to expect or if things could really improve.

Now, as a resident at My Place, our transitional shelter for people coming directly from life on the streets, Doug has a bed every night, a safe place to keep his belongings, and access to the full range of supports he needs to rebuild his life.

“They have a full spectrum of everything that I need,” Doug says. “Medical help, getting my identification—whatever I need, I just go to the staff and they help me. I eat here. I shower here. I play chess with the guys. It’s a community.”

That growing sense of stability—of belonging—is what transitional shelter like My Place is all about. It gives people the time, safety, and support they need to heal and move forward.

And it matters more than ever.

Right now, there are others just like Doug—people who are grieving, isolated, and doing everything they can to survive outside. Transitional shelter is often the first step out of that crisis. It’s where someone can finally exhale. Where they can sleep through the night, begin to trust again, and take the first steps toward stability. From there, everything becomes possible—housing, health, connection, and a path forward.

By the time you read this, Doug will no longer be living at My Place. He has successfully secured a home at a supportive housing facility for seniors right here in Victoria. After years of grief, homelessness, and isolation, Doug has hope and a home again.