Ruth Sheehan, Staff Writer
The foyer to Edenton Street United Methodist Church is always buzzing with activity. Tonight, it will be a little quieter than usual.
Last Thursday night, the Community Mental Health Clinic shut its doors for good.
Actually, let me restate that. The clinic never had any doors of its own; for nearly a decade, it had relied on the generosity of Edenton Street, its host, and the hard work of more than five dozen volunteers.
A modest crew, really, for a 10-year project. But what a difference this clinic has made.
Its services were aimed at people who were not so desperately poor that they qualified for Medicaid but were still poor enough that they could not afford psychiatric care, or medicines.
"We tried to take money out of the equation," said Clarence Boyd, a social worker and co-founder.
Over the years, the clinic treated 550 patients, providing talk therapy and, often, psychiatric medications too.
Most of the clients were unemployed or working jobs with no insurance.
A few were referred by in-the-know agencies. But mainly it was word of mouth that kept the appointment books full.
Perhaps the best measure of the clinic's success came in the form of the "after-stories" of patients who were able to get through their depression or anxiety or other issues and hold down full-time, meaningful work.
"On our first contact, we told them if you want to work on your life, and you have no way to pay for it, we can help," said Nicholas Stratas, a Raleigh psychiatrist and former state mental health official who co-founded the clinic with Boyd. "They were on notice that they were responsible to get a handle on their life."
No wonder the clinic became a model for similar efforts in this state and across the nation.
So, why this eulogy? What happened?
Several years ago, I wrote about the clinic when its money was running short, and its sources of free meds were drying up. An infusion of contributions got them through the crisis.
This time, money will not fix the problem. What the clinic needs now is new leadership.
Ten years after launching the clinic, Boyd, 71, and Stratas, 73, are tired.
"We're two old elephants," said Stratas.
The two always worked as a team, with Boyd running the clinical side, screening most new clients and setting up appointments, and Stratas acting as medical director. They tried to find others to take over their roles.
But they've finally given up.
"We always prided ourselves on providing the highest quality care, with no waiting list," said Boyd. "When we couldn't do that anymore, we decided it was time to stop."
It is such a shame for the working poor. Yet another hole in the safety net for the uninsured.
After Hurricane Katrina, I heard from so many mental health professionals who wanted to help people who were hurting from New Orleans.
The sad truth is there are plenty of folks hurting right here in the Triangle.
I hope the idea of the Community Mental Health Clinic can be rekindled.
I'd love to see Edenton Street's foyer bustling on Thursday nights again.