In the early 1950s, a former Korean War tank commando had a dream. His name was Walter Criddle, but his friends knew him as “the Fat Flying Squirrel” because he was apparently a spirited dancer despite his weight. As a recovering alcoholic, Criddle built himself a happy life as the owner of a successful Baltimore tire store. After a few stable years, Criddle began to look past his dream of owning a Corvette as the endemic alcoholism of his community began to weigh upon him. Walter Criddle wanted to do something about it. He wanted to start a halfway house and, with the help of a motorcycle-riding, chain smoking, spitfire of a preacher named Harry Shelley, succeeded in the venture. This is a highly condensed origin story of the Tuerk House, which was my favorite non-profit organization I worked with last summer. This group is still in operation as a halfway house for any kind of Baltimore addict and does beautiful work in our city.
I had to write an introduction for Mayor Stephanie Rawlings-Blake before she spoke at the Tuerk House last summer, and I definitely noticed some things about the way the organization functions. First, a major portion of the staff were former Tuerk House clients themselves. This place employs its own former patients at a ridiculously high rate, which is a win-win for all parties involved. After speaking with these employees firsthand and talking to the directors of the non-profit on other, unrelated assignments, I learned that the Tuerk House doesn’t hire these people out of mercy or pity; they are simply the most passionate and driven workers for the job. That’s a clear win for Tuerk House. These employees also told me that working on the other side of addict treatment programs helps keep them sober like nothing else.
That’s a win for the employees. Most importantly, however, the fact that these men and women have been in the exact same situation as those they dedicate their lives to help imbues them with a unique level of empathy that allows them to help and counsel their clients as effectively as possible.
The structure of the treatment programs is also unique and innovative. Clients are not allowed to leave the facility until they have completed the program or else they will not be allowed back in. Furthermore, the longer clients stay in the program, the more personal space and freedoms they accrue.
The house itself recently underwent a full remodel that will give the organization what it needs to become a full medical facility. For decades the Tuerk House has excelled at keeping former addicts sober, which is remarkable considering that the average addict referred from the streets of Baltimore likely has other medical issues besides a single substance abuse problem. For the first time in the Tuerk House’s history they can now be comprehensibly responsible for their clients’ health.
In summation, the Tuerk House does amazing work and is relatively unknown around the Hopkins community. I wanted to change that.
Will Marcus is a senior International Studies and political science double major from Austin. He is the Opinions Editor.
