Diners and Dives — The Perfect Square Meal

Bill Stephan, left, discusses Bowen Crisis Stabilization as Paul Finley and Kris Williams listen.
By Shari Benyousky
Guest Columnist

Column Note: In the 62nd column in the Diners and Dives series, a small group of Warsaw Breakfast Optimist Club members explore therapy.

PIERCETON — We carpooled East to Pierceton with trepidation. The place we were heading for lunch wasn’t a usual diner or dive. It wasn’t even a restaurant, although we planned to eat there. We pulled into the newly black-topped parking lot and saw the blue sign, the first thing most people coming here would see. It read simply: Bowen Center, Inpatient Unit. Below that in smaller letters: 9 Pequignot Drive.

The Meltdown

Bill Stephan, director of Crisis Services, greeted us at the door of the Crisis Stabilization Side of the building. The other side of the facility is an inpatient hospital. What’s the difference? Well, we entered the door of the Crisis Stabilization Section voluntarily. We could choose to walk back out that door again anytime we wanted. Like the other guests. Guests enter a comfortable sitting room with a wall full of coffee and tea choices. The Bowen Crisis Stabilization section offers a space to anyone having a crisis that needs a safe place to land.

“What’s a crisis?” Prominent Realtor Jeff Owens asked.

Rachael Adams, Bowen Peer Coach Supervisor, took a seat with us. “Whatever you decide is a crisis.” Rachael was calm and sure of this answer. “If you perceive it’s a crisis, it’s a crisis. We had six people here last night. One had a car break down and a law enforcement officer brought them in. Sometimes it’s an unhoused person and we help them get to Fellowship Missions or somewhere. All kinds of things happen.” A crisis can range from something small to something huge. Whatever your crisis is, the Crisis Stabilization Center offers a homey plump recliner, a blanket, food, and advice. They offered all of us information and lunch.

The Cheese

Speaking of homey, Supervisor Rachael handed out slices of rectangle-shaped sausage or pepperoni cafeteria pizza, bread sticks and a simple salad with sliced boiled egg, yellow cheese, and tomato. “This should remind you of school days. I asked if I could cook something special for you, but they wanted the experience to be as authentic as possible. This is what we serve on Fridays here.”

Yes, if you enter the Crisis Center, not only can you wrap yourself in a blanket, but you’ll also get three meals and snacks for free.

Yes, It’s Free

Bowen Center provides old school pepperoni Friday square pizza.

How can this service, to everyone in a crisis, be free? “You mean it’s free to someone who uses Medicaid or Medicare?” I asked as I cut pieces of sausage pizza with those little red pools of pizza grease with a plastic fork.

“No,” Crisis Services Director Bill put up both hands proudly. “There’s no cost for anyone to be on the crisis side even if their insurance doesn’t pay it all. We have a grant.”

Senior Director Mike Murphy grinned as he worked on his salad. “Indiana saw the need for mental health services, and then they did something about it.”

Bill nodded. “I think in areas of rural Indiana more than in big cities, there are fewer options like homeless shelters, so we need more services like this to serve our community.”

“What would a crisis situation have looked like before the center existed?” I gave up cutting dainty fork-sized pizza pieces and folded the last half of my rectangle pizza to pick up.

Crisis Director Bill chewed and contemplated. “In the past, chances are that law enforcement would have responded, but there’s only so much they can do to solve things in the field. Or someone in a crisis might have ended up in the ER, but the ER is better able to deal with physical health, not mental health needs. Imagine someone in a crowded waiting room getting agitated. They usually end up in jail because there isn’t another choice. Those choices weren’t suitable for a mental health crisis. This Crisis Center is not a hospital. It’s not jail. It’s not inpatient. This is voluntary.”

Squaring Up

“Is there anything guests like us could say that would result in our not being able to leave?” Realtor Jeff Owens jokingly asked as he flipped through the bin to choose a honey mustard dressing packet.

“Only three things,” Director Bill waved his buttered breadstick. “If a guest told us they had a plan to commit suicide, or the intent to hurt themselves or someone else, or if they were gravely disabled in some way.” Otherwise, any person who walks in the door can walk out at any point in time.

What’s A Peer Coach?

Mike Murphy shows off the intake room.

Once they’ve walked inside, a guest in crisis will find peer coaches for advice. Rachel told us that peer coaches have their own “lived experiences with mental illness or substance abuse. They know where the gaps are and help make active plans for guests before they leave. They go through a lot of training and certifications too.”

Bill jumped in with an interesting new way of thinking about it. “This place provides two fantastic things with peer coaches.

“Number One is, of course, that this group has lived this and can interact with people coming through our doors. Number Two is that we have created new employees for the community. This group has traditionally had trouble getting work, but now they are a great asset for helping our community and themselves.” The center looks forward to connecting with the new Sheriff’s Resource Navigator Shanna Wallen to make this work even smoother. The navigator helps inmates about to be released from jail make a plan. The Crisis Center can help fill a lodging gap if needed.

Strawberry Shortcake

Rachel stacked pizza plates and salad bowls. “It’s National Strawberry Shortcake Day!” she told us enthusiastically as she topped the shortcake with whipped cream and passed out bowls of lovely red desserts before we went on a short tour. We saw the intake room and the crisis stabilization rooms equipped with comfortable chairs and TVs. Rachel reiterated with passion.

“There is no wrong door. No wrong crisis. We don’t turn anyone away.”

Mobile Crisis

Breadsticks served with the pizza.

By the end of this December Bowen will add another layer of assistance — mobile crisis units that can respond directly to other locations for assistance. “We’re moving down the road on that,” Bill grinned. “We will be able to respond with teams around the clock 24/7 to help solve issues, stabilize people, and provide services and support.”

Bill left us with this thought: “We know that on average 20% of the population struggles with crisis events, but Bowen Center annually only sees 10% of the Kosciusko population. This means that we can still double our assistance. There are always more people to help.”

We left Pierceton and the Bowen Center site with bellies full of pizza and heads full of hope for continued improvement.

TIP — The National Suicide Prevention and Crisis Hotline can be found by dialing #988.

Do you know of an interesting place, restaurant, nonprofit, or person that you’d like to see featured in Diners and Dives? Send Shari Benyousky an email at [email protected].

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