Bob Coté has been annoying public officials for decades.
Years ago, Coté was in Washington to testify about treatment for drug and alcohol abuse. Congressman Joseph Kennedy of Massachusetts wasn’t exactly fascinated by Coté’s politically incorrect solutions.
“Mr. Coté, don’t tell me about drugs and alcohol. I know all about the harms. I lost a brother to a heroin overdose,” Kennedy snapped.
“Look, Congressman,” Coté answered. “I’ll agree the Kennedys know a lot about drugs and alcohol, but I’m here to tell ya that this government plan is killing people, and you need to put a stop to it.”
Coté, as you can tell, isn’t above stepping on some regal toes.
Today, he’s still asking the same question: Which is more compassionate? Coddling drunks and junkies or doing it his way? Which is to say, demanding self-reliance and accountability.
The first route is preferred by many. It helps the self-righteous feel fulfilled.
But Coté isn’t what you’d call a feel- good guy. And in the process of infuriating every homeless “advocate” in Denver, he’s facilitated some genuine change.
To begin with, Coté preaches the ugly truth – or what anyone in Denver with eyes would refer to as the obvious: The majority of the panhandlers and homeless are alcoholics and/or drug addicts.
Coté knows the deal – he was once on the streets himself.
Unlike many city shelters, Step 13, Coté’s rehabilitation center, isn’t run as a mini-welfare state. In fact, through Step 13, Coté administers three businesses that provide jobs for the tenants and a majority of his budget.
“It takes a duck to know a duck,” explains Coté. “When you get a bunch of foxes to set policy for ducks, you’re going to have a big problem. All my staff, but one, is in residence or former residence. We don’t try to psychoanalyze the people who come in here.”
At Step 13, if you’re not willing to follow three clear-cut rules, you’re out:
No drinking or drugs (with constant testing).
You must hold a job.
You must pay a nominal fee to stay.
Coté, a believer in competition and accountability, practices what he preaches.
“When I started, people laughed when I said I wouldn’t take any federal, state or city money,” he says. “I don’t do any telemarketing or direct mail, either. In fact, when I send out my newsletter, I won’t put an envelope in there – that would make me a panhandler.”
Coté, who has benefited from hefty checks signed by Denver CEOs and fundraising efforts on talk radio, isn’t exactly admired in the victim industry.
He believes homeless advocates are terrified of competition and rely on heavily inflated statistics to grow their business. A business that is about to drastically expand.
Denver’s proposed 10-year plan to end homelessness would provide approximately $12.5 million a year for free housing. But Coté doesn’t regard “homelessness” as an issue about roofs and ovens.
Coté believes providing drug addicts and alcoholics with weekly checks and new pads merely enables them. In fact, he thinks it will kill many of them.
“They already make their meals for them; they make their beds; they treat them like stray pets. … Give them a bowl of food, pet them a little, stroke them, and send them on their way,” he says. “Here, they cook their own meals; they take responsibility for their lives.”
Coté, who boasts that 38 percent of the people he’s worked with don’t need him anymore, railed against the city’s proposed plan.
“You think news spreads fast on the Internet? Wait till the homeless around the country hear that they are giving away houses in Denver,” Coté said.
Coté says Denver is already a way station for the nation’s homeless, who migrate year-round like birds migrating south in the winter.
So help Coté prove the bureaucrats wrong. If you want to contribute, mail your check to: Step 13, 2029 Larimer St., Denver, CO 80205, or call 303-295-7837.
David Harsanyi’s column appears Monday and Thursday. Reach him at 303-820-1255 or dharsanyi@denverpost.com.
