“How did the concept of The Town really come about?”
“I was watching YouTube videos and saw where Medicine Hat in Canada had worked to end homelessness. I thought we could do that here in Milwaukee too, and we have, to an even greater degree. There will always be individuals who do not want help, who will want to live independently, and I understand that, coming from where I did, but we are here to help people if they need it or want it.”
“You did all this without government funding?” she clarified.
Joy nodded. “It’s all through the Joy Foundation. We own the land and the buildings. We supply the counselors and the people who can help the homeless, whatever their problems may be. The people volunteer to help build their own homes and pay it forward. A lot have moved on to a better life, which is the point really: a new start and a new beginning. Others have taken their place as they move on and found that they too can start over.”
“Isn’t this expensive for you? Aren’t you squandering your fortune with these philanthropic endeavors?”
Robyn hated this question, but she understood that outsiders assumed that Joy was throwing away her millions. Still, Joy had been ready for the question. “No, helping people is not squandering money. There are paybacks that no amount of money can buy. There are profits that aren’t measured in money.” She answered without telling them that she owned or was a shareholder in the companies that were building these places and the many others that had cropped up across the country. That was really none of their business. “Many people have gone on to be productive members of The Town or moved on to lives they only once dreamed about.”
“Aren’t there some who just take what you give as their due?
Joy nodded. “Yes, that is a problem. There will always be some who take advantage of the system and we aren’t immune to that. However, the vast majority of the people we have helped are grateful and that makes this concept worth it. Eventually, those takers have to move on; they are contractually required to do so.” She didn’t mention how she had to have some legally removed from the houses as they took and took from the facilities and made no effort to try and improve their situations. Some people just refused to help themselves. “I’m so happy we are able to provide counselors for the homeless. Regardless of their situation, they are welcome.”
“Do you think you will end homelessness in Milwaukee?”
“No,” Joy surprised her with her answer. “I think there will always be people who, for one reason or another, get into a bad situation. From drugs, to alcohol, to abuse, and maybe PTSD, we welcome them and give them a chance to start again. I hope we will always be there for them, and that they will pay it forward when they can.”
“How did the concept of Dementia Village come about?”
“I hate that word. We renamed it The Village as we do help others besides dementia patients in our facilities. We also have Alzheimer’s patients and even some seniors who just want to live out their golden years in a familiar place, one where they may have lived with their spouse who had one of these maladies. Everyone deserves a nice home until the day they die. They deserve to be taken care of by people who care, not an industrialized facility that just does it by the numbers. I was inspired when I saw what one such facility in the Netherlands did.”
“I heard you were the one that suggested they introduce kitten therapy? Is that true?”
Joy laughed at the question. It was a such a delightful concept. “Actually, I had made a friend that mentioned how wonderful it was that we allowed pets in our facilities. Both The Town and The Village worked with local vets to provide free or low-cost care for those pet owners who had been living on the streets or on a fixed income. She also told us how seniors benefited from interaction with puppies and kittens. When I mentioned this to the vets in our area, one of them told us they sometimes had puppies or kittens that needed round-the-clock care, and did we know of any the residents who were up for it. So many of the residents volunteered, it was amazing!” she enthused. “One resident who had been kind of quiet, morose even, began to open up and tell about his childhood and the pets he had back then. The response of the residents was wonderful, and it helped the puppies and kittens that were brought to the centers. We’ve reached out to vets in the area and other groups who have puppies and kittens, and arranged to help each other. One woman who lost an award-winning mama dog, had this entire litter that might have perished if it was not for our residents feeding them constantly and interacting with them. They all became healthy and happy and active…puppies,” she added with a laugh.
The film showed the residents interacting with the kittens and the puppies, feeding them and playing with them while Joy’s voice was heard in the background. The residents looked delighted to be useful, to have the animals to hold and love and enjoy.
“Do you worry about these animals bringing in diseases, or someone getting bit or hurting the puppies?”
“No, they are too young for their shots, but the vets clear them before they come. The socialization with the residents teaches them not to bite and how to interact with humans. At our second site, we found the senior citizen center working with the day care center. Suddenly, children who did not have grandparents of their own now had surrogate grandparents to interact with. And they had pets they wouldn’t have otherwise learned to care for and be responsible for. It brings the community closer all the way around, teaches the youngsters respect for their elders, and keeps the seniors active longer too. I see less strain in them, and they seem to respond better and longer. We want our elder community around to learn from them, to interact with them, to enjoy their wisdom and stories for as long as possible.”
“Didn’t your wife’s mother have dementia?”
Joy shook her head. “No, she had early-onset Alzheimer’s. She was the one who inspired me once I saw a news report on CNN about the village in the Netherlands. We flew there to see if we could duplicate the success they were having and expand it. I wanted my mother-in-law to be healthy, happy, and content because it meant my wife did not have to worry about her.”
“And is she happy?”
Joy nodded enthusiastically. “She does not remember much anymore, but she loves seeing her grandchildren…we have two now and a third on the way.”
“Your wife carried one and the other was carried by a surrogate?” she asked, feeling no question was too intimate for this woman who had done so much for so many with her millions.
“Yes, I had no desire to carry a child of my own; however, I did donate the eggs,” she confirmed, feeling a little attacked although she knew the question was coming.
“Are your children related?” she had the audacity to ask, and Joy was outraged although no sign of it was visible on her face.
“Yes, they are, both biologically and through our wonderfully blended family,” she felt was a diplomatic answer. She did not have to know about the countless hours they spent in a doctor’s office so Robyn could get artificially inseminated. She also did not have to know the hours they spent in a lawyer’s office hiring a surrogate for one of their children. All their children had the same father even if their mothers were different. Still, they would be raised by their two mothers.
“If you were given the opportunity to surrender your entire jackpot and return to one day in your past, would you? And if so, what day would it be?”
“Absolutely, in a heartbeat! I would give it all up to be with my parents again. There is not one day I do not miss them and wish they could have seen my successes. But had they been alive, I might not have been on the streets, found that five dollar bill, and won the Powerball, so there might not have been any accomplishments for them to see. I like to think they directed me to that five dollar bill, maybe even arranged that I won, and they can see all I have become, accomplished, and even see their grandchildren. I would have liked to introduce them to my wife and watched them play with their grandchildren.”
“Why did you go with a lump sum versus an
annuity?”
“I worried that with the annuity, the lottery might run out of money,” she shrugged as they both laughed at the concept. “I was young and it seemed logical at the time. Now, in retrospect, it was a good decision because I could do more with the money on my own, having a larger sum to work with and invest.”
“Did you worry that you would squander the money? A lot of teenagers would have, and you were only nineteen when you won.”
“Yes, I did worry about that, but I was careful and I was cautious. I had what I thought were good people helping me. I found out later that anyone can be deceived, but by then I had matured and learned how to control my own money, how to invest, and to take care of myself. I was never allowed to be irresponsible. The years I might have been, I was already trying to survive. I think that helped to shape me into the young woman I became. I thought that winning that money was a blessing and now, being able to help others, I know it was.”
“How were you able to avoid the reporters when you initially won?”
“Because I was just coming off the streets, I don’t believe they knew what they were looking for. By the time they realized what and who I was, I had moved on.”
“Why didn’t you respond to any of the mail you received when you first won?”
“I did not get any mail. I left Milwaukee very soon after my win, so any mail after that would have gone to my old address. I had no idea people were writing to me. How would I have received it?” (She did not mention she used her bank address to receive important mail; they did not need to know that.)
“What about the mail you get at the foundation, The Town, or The Village? Do you read that mail and respond to it personally?
She shrugged. “I do not see it all. It goes through my secretaries at the various sites and they determine whether I need to read it. I do respond to that mail.”
“Do you ever send money to people who ask for a handout?”
She shook her head. “No, how could I know if their request was legitimate? I cannot investigate every person who asks me for money. I’m sorry there are people out there who are struggling like I did, but I can only do what I can do…one plan at a time.”
“Do you wish you had done more with your money?”
“Money is a responsibility. I chose to invest my money carefully. My first priority was to invest to sustain my wealth. After all, you are not given that kind of money every day. I also hoped to have a family one day and I wanted that wealth to benefit them.
“My second priority was to invest in people. Except for a few rare occasions, I have never been disappointed in that decision. I, my wife, and my staff continue to strive to find more ways to help people become who they were meant to be. At a minimum, we want them to have a meaningful life while doing everything they can.”
“You could have had private planes, luxurious vacations, and expensive things.”
“Spending ‘found’ money for the sake of spending it is not a responsible thing to do. Furthermore, I did not need those things. Yes, my wife and I have had nice vacations and we will continue to enjoy time away with our children, but we both want more for our family than what money can buy. We will have each other and the personal satisfaction we get with our work.”
“Have you ever shared any of your wealth with your family?”
She looked at the interviewer with a funny expression, her eyebrows beetling. “My wife and children will always share in our wealth,” she answered, confused.
“No,” she shook her head, “I meant your brothers and sisters.” She was angling at something and Joy could sense it. She didn’t like it, but she deigned to answer.
“No, not a dime. They chose to cast me out at a very young age. That is not how families treat one another and they ceased to be my family at that point in time. My win had nothing to do with them or their lives. Family are the people you choose to have in your life, not an accident of birth. I am not obliged to share this wealth with anyone I do not choose.” She said that without bitterness or hatred, something that had taken years to achieve. They really meant nothing to her anymore.
“What about their claims that you are mentally unfit to control such wealth?”
Joy smiled, seeing that the interviewer was attempting to get a rise out of her. “Do I seem unfit to control my own money?” she asked reasonably and calmly. Underneath, she wanted to throttle the woman. “I assure you I couldn’t have made the decisions I have if I was unfit.”
“Do you think they made these claims in a bid to get a chunk of your money?
“Of course they did. However, I do not wish to talk about people who I’m related to only by birth. They are not now, nor will they ever be, a part of my family.” With that, she looked straight into one of the cameras. The finality in her voice sent a message to her siblings who were watching avidly. It was also a warning to the interviewer to move on.
“What has been most challenging for you about winning such a large amount of money?”
Joy thought about that for a second even though she knew the question was forthcoming. It allowed her a moment to calm down from the impertinent questions slipped in by the interviewer. It would not do for her to lose her cool over this. The dramatic pause allowed her time to reflect. “I think it was the people that assumed I should just share it. Yes, those letters do still arrive from time to time and I occasionally see them. Some even show up in person expecting I will meet with them. I cannot help everyone. I choose to help the homeless and the elderly. I have been homeless and someday, God willing, I will be elderly. Giving handouts will not solve anyone’s problems. I’m a firm believer in the expression, ‘Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime.’”
“You told us you don’t think you will end homelessness in Milwaukee. How about dementia or Alzheimer’s? Do you think you can solve those problems?”
Again, Joy shook her head. “That isn’t within my perview. We provided The Village so they can have a nice, safe, and comfortable home when they or their family need it. I’d love to see a cure, but I didn’t go into this looking to ‘solve’ these diseases,” she made quotation marks in the air. “Both diseases are on the rise according to our research. Maybe it’s our diet or atmosphere, or maybe we are just more aware of it than we once were. However, we are providing them a place to live.” Based on some studies Robyn had read about, Joy had invested in clinical studies that helped Alzheimer’s patients. They had yet to see any results from their investment; however, they were both hopeful.
When the woman asked how much Joy was worth, she shrugged and refused to answer. Later, the broadcaster would speculate that Joy was worth nearly a billion dollars but, they cautioned, no one really knew.
The interview went on for an hour. Some of it would be cut from the final broadcast, but overall Joy was thrilled with the camera shots they had of the various facilities, including ones of the seniors with the children, or puppies and kittens, and the short interviews they had with the staff including a very pregnant Robyn who still worked part-time at one of the sites. She was saying after this next baby she might stay home full-time and raise their brood instead of using the in-home nanny they had hired. Joy was content with whatever decision her wife made, so long as she was there with her…forever.
THE END
If you have enjoyed THE OUTSIDER by K’Anne Meinel, you may enjoy another book of hers, VEIL OF SILENCE, we have a chapter here for your viewing pleasure:
Poetic license was taken with this story as they would NOT have allowed Lieutenant Marsha Gagliano to see her wife or child until after she had been acquitted, adjudicated, or fully cleared of any and all charges. I’ve patterned my army base outside of Chicago after Scott Air Force Base (AFB), a logistics base for the United States Air Force (USAF) and Great Lakes Naval Air Station (NAS), which is a training naval air station. Many thanks to the women and men who have served there along with their civilian counterparts.
CHAPTER ONE
The guards were particularly alert. There seemed to be an inordinate amount of traffic on the road in front of the embassy that day. Airport Road in Kabul was a straight road that seemed to compel people to rush along it, past the embassies of The United States, South Korea, and even International Security Assistance Force (ISAF) headquarters, on their way to and from Wazir Akbar Khan Hospital. It paid to be alert since American embassies were frequently targeted by extremists looking to make a name for themselves in this violent part of the world. Men, women, and even children were suspect as they wore the robes of their various tribes, which could hide anything from the daily groceries to a bomb. Anyone approaching knew to have their identification ready and their hands spread. Any suspicious behavior was dealt with immediately, not only out of self-preservation, but to protect this tiny strip of land that the Americans declared their own.
The guards were constantly looking, scrutinizing, and assessing any and all possible threats—from the donkey-drawn carts, to the expensive cars that careened down the street as though threatening to hit any and all pedestrians in their path. Pedestrians especially were viewed with suspicious concern as it was not unheard of for people to walk up to the U.S. embassy with a bomb strapped to their body.
Today the pedestrians seemed particularly plentiful, the hajibs hiding the identities of the women. No one could tell if they were young or old under the completely engulfing, black garb required by the men in this country. Purportedly to protect their women, it also provided anonymity from the many hordes of strange men who had come to this part of the world, supposedly to make peace. As the garb hid so much, it could be intimidating to those soldiers who were new to this part of a violent world.
The guards watched as a woman with two very young children observed from across Airport Road onto the Great Massoud Road where the embassy was actually located. She was assessing the embassy, at least that’s how it appeared to their knowing eyes. She carefully looked up and down the street several times before cautiously shepherding the children across the busy street. A vendor using a cow to pull his slow-moving cart yelled at her and she bobbed her head in subservience, silently apologizing for having slowed his plodding along the busy street. She had her hands around both of the young children’s shoulders, pushing them along as she approached the entrance. Both guards stiffened as it became obvious she was making her way towards them. A concrete barrier lay slightly behind them, stopping any cars from rushing the embassy and detonating a bomb inside. Still, as she could go by on the busy sidewalk, they watched her warily. She looked behind her repeatedly…this was not a good sign.
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