By JoAnn Hornak   Published Dec 17, 2002 at 5:25 AM

For most of her adulthood, Joyce Henry, a Milwaukee native, had what most people would describe as a "normal life." She graduated from high school, fell in love and got married. She and her husband moved to New Berlin and had six children in five years. When her husband died, Joyce got a full-time job to support her family. Her children grew up and today Joyce has seven grandchildren.

End of story? Hardly.

This is only the beginning of the story of this extraordinary woman who in 1985 at the age of 49, quit her job, cashed in all of her personal savings and worked the next 16 years of her life without a paycheck -- all to make The Open Gate, Milwaukee's first non-profit transitional living program for the homeless, a reality.

Anyone who meets Joyce Henry immediately knows they're dealing with a woman who doesn't easily take no for an answer. After Joyce's husband died, she went to Kearney and Trecker for a job. But in 1972 there were no women working inside the plant. They tried to steer Joyce to office work but she refused, saying it wouldn't pay enough to support her family. She told the hiring manager that she couldn't believe there wasn't a job that a woman couldn't do just as well as a man. "I think I intimidated him," says Joyce with a smile as she recalls this meeting. Her persistence paid off. A month later she was hired as the first woman to work inside the plant since World War II.

The next several years Joyce worked full-time and raised her children as a young widowed mother. But then a pivotal turning point occurred in her life in 1977 when Joyce recognized that she had a drinking problem. She entered a 30-day in-patient AODA treatment program at DePaul Hospital (which is no longer in existence.) After successfully completing that program, she continued with outpatient treatment and met a young man in the same program who introduced her to St. Ben's parish, an event that changed Joyce's life forever.

"After attending that first service, I never missed another Sunday," says Joyce, who eventually became involved in the St. Ben's meal program as a Door Minister. Through her months of volunteer service, Joyce learned that many of the men who came to the meal program had been laid off from their jobs, couldn't find work and spent their days drinking.

"I'd rag on them to do something positive with their lives. I'd tell them if they couldn't find jobs then at least they should do something," says Joyce.

So they did. One day they came to Joyce and asked her to help them start a baseball team. Joyce, who was still working at Kearney and Trecker full-time, had experience in helping to organize corporate baseball teams. She knew how much work was involved and was doubtful of their commitment, but was willing to give it a try.

"The first Saturday we had twelve guys show up. Within six months, there were 38. Our baseball league lasted for three years," says Joyce. It was through the baseball league that Joyce really got to know the men who came to the St. Ben's meal program.

"They were living on the streets or in rat and cockroach infested rooming houses and paying more for rent than I was," says Joyce. "I just got so caught up with the inhumanity of their situation I wanted to do something about it."

It was then that Joyce formed the idea of The Open Gate. Joyce envisioned purchasing a home, which would provide the men with a permanent address and telephone so they could find jobs, and the amenities that most people take for granted like a washer and dryer. The Open Gate would not only give them a decent place to live, but by living together, they could form a community where they would provide support and mentoring for one another.

Joyce got a donation from the School Sisters of Notre Dame and cashed in her own savings account, all of her Certificates of Deposit and her retirement account, but it still wasn't enough for a down payment on a house. Then Joyce went see Brother Booker Ash at the House of Peace. Before he even heard about Joyce's idea for the Open Gate, he agreed to write a check for $5,000.

In 1985, Joyce was able to purchase the house at 1131 N. 12th St. and incorporated the OG as a non-profit organization. Joyce along with the first 12 OG clients moved into the house. Just three days later, Joyce quit Kearney and Trecker. She was 49 at the time, an age when many people are looking forward to their retirements and enjoying their grandchildren. Other people working in the non-profit community at the time told Joyce the OG wouldn't last two years. That was 17 years ago.

"There were a lot of miracles in the beginning," says Joyce. First, was an agreement by the owner of a construction company in town to do $120,000 worth of remodeling to the house with the understanding that it be paid back whenever the OG could afford to. (Most of this debt he later forgave and wrote off.) Another occurred when an employee from the Volunteer Center came to see Joyce about the $25 dues that hadn't been paid.

"I told her we couldn't afford to pay it, we had nothing," says Joyce. The woman said she was going to talk to her ex-husband about the financial troubles of the OG. Several months later, the OG received a donation from him for $36,000.

Joyce continues to make what many people would consider to be amazing sacrifices. After Joyce lived on 12th Street for 10 years, the OG purchased another property called Westgate at 761 N. 29th, known at the time according to Joyce as "the worst dope house in Milwaukee." Joyce moved into Westgate, cleaned it up and today 13 OG clients reside there.

Joyce lived at Westgate until four months ago when she moved to another OG property at 136 W. Meinecke St. Before Joyce moved to the Meinecke property, the residents there had been experiencing many problems with vandalism, drug sales outside the building and gang activity. Joyce made a decision to move to the Meinecke House where three OG families and four single people live, because "I represent to our clients, safety," says Joyce.

Miracles may attribute to getting the OG off the ground and running, but of course the biggest miracle of all is Joyce Henry herself. In this day and age when many executives of non-profits are paid healthy five and six-figure salaries along with generous benefits, Joyce went without a salary for the first 16 years of the OG's existence. She supported herself the way OG clients do, through donated food and clothing and by residing in OG housing. The OG doesn't have a 401K or retirement plan. In fact, today at age 66, Joyce doesn't have a dime saved for her retirement. But she's not worried because she knows "God will take care" of her.

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Many people question Joyce about her true motives for doing this, assuming she has an ulterior motive; that perhaps she's attempting to atone for past misdeeds or to earn karmic rewards in this life. When this question comes up, Joyce responds: "I've never viewed this as a job, it's a ministry. I'm doing this because I believe in humanity."

Joyce Henry may be officially known as the Founder and Executive Director of the OG, but many OG clients call her a friend and an angel. Although she may be different things to different people, everyone who meets Joyce knows immediately that they are in the presence of someone very special -- an individual who truly lives what she believes.

For further information about the Open Gate check out it's Web site at www.theopengate.org. If you'd like to volunteer or make a donation, you can contact the Open Gate at 1131 N. 12th St., Milwaukee, WI 53233 (414) 344-7582.