After 8 years at Daybreak, Sister Theresa Sullivan is leaving Macon. See her legacy.

When Sister Theresa Sullivan, executive director of Daybreak and the Sheridan Center, walks through the organization’s brick building on Walnut street one afternoon, it’s a flurry of activity.

A volunteer talks with representatives from a hospice group near the front desk about a partnership. People mill around the community room at the back of the building as they grab a snack, a drink, or just sit down for a moment of rest. Others recline on the patio, enjoying one of the first cool days after a summer of blazing heat.

For the hundreds of people without housing in Macon, Daybreak feels like home, its staff like family. They come for clothes, medicine and showers, but stay for the solace and community. Behind it all is Sullivan, who knows nearly every person that walks through Daybreak’s door by name.

“I love being able to work hands-on with our brothers and sisters who are in need,” Sullivan said.

But after eight years of service, Sullivan is preparing to depart Daybreak in October. Her last day on Oct. 18 represents the end of an era for the organization and community that has come to rely on her.

A call to service

When Sullivan talks about her work, the word “calling” comes up often.

A native of Chicago, Sullivan grew up in a tight-knit family of 12 that emphasized caring for others. Her parents bridged the divide between the Jewish and Catholic communities in the city, hosting social events for their neighborhood that brought everyone together.

Sullivan sought to model the love she felt at home in the world. She recalled an elderly man with mental disabilities who lived near her family. He would often ask her to play tennis with him in the park. One year, Sullivan asked the man, Joseph, what he wanted for Christmas. He told her he wanted a trophy.

Determined to fulfill Joseph’s wish, Sullivan went into her sister’s room while she was away at college and took one of her many high school basketball trophies (she had too many anyway, Sullivan said). She replaced the name with Joseph’s and gave it to him. Sullivan said she felt it was important for her to care for him since few others did.

“No one had ever told him he was special or good,” Sullivan said. “I wanted to share the love that I had been given.”

Sullivan became interested in working with homeless populations as a teenager. She visited a nursing home caring for elderly people experiencing homelessness with the Daughters of Charity, the group of nuns she later became part of, and decided then that she wanted to spend her life serving others.

“It was in serving them and visiting them that I felt my call,” Sullivan said. “And I really felt that call.”

Coming to Daybreak

When Sullivan first arrived at Daybreak as its director in 2016, she wasn’t sure what to expect. She had heard positive words about the facility, but had never lived in the South.

Sullivan was also just returning to working with homeless populations. While serving people was what ignited her passion for service, she had taken a few detours, working as a nurse in a hospital, getting her MBA and running after-school programs aimed at disadvantaged students.

But when DePaul USA — the national organization that operates Daybreak — asked her to take over, she wasn’t one to say no.

Sullivan said coming to Daybreak presented a unique opportunity to combine her interests in health, education and helping homeless populations because of its emphasis on providing resources.

“With Daybreak, you need to have both the social services, obviously, and then they have the clinic,” Sullivan said.

However, Daybreak didn’t come without challenges. Her predecessors had set up a strong foundation, Sullivan said, but one of her major goals was to make the organization more financially stable. Daybreak was running largely on grants, which Sullivan worried would dry up, forcing the organization to cut programs.

“Too many times people go in to serve the poor, and they do something but it fizzles out,” Sullivan said. “I wanted to make sure we don’t start something, and then it makes cute pictures, that’s nice, and then it’s gone.”

Upon arriving in Macon, Sullivan was surprised to find how supportive the community was towards Daybreak. She took it as an opportunity to forge new partnerships, and to boost fundraisers, such as Daybreak’s annual Macon Sleepout, to build more permanent financial resources.

Daybreak kept expanding its services, and Sullivan hired more staff. She made it a point to know everyone who came to Daybreak for help, and followed their journeys as they worked to get off the street.

“How do you know that God loves you if the world doesn’t?” Sullivan asked. “You don’t.”

But being so invested in the community comes with its fair share of heartbreak, too. In May, Kenneth Knight, a 59-year-old man experiencing homelessness, was sleeping in an alley when someone allegedly struck him in the head with a cinder block and killed him , according to the Bibb County Sheriff’s Office. Investigators are still looking for who did it.

Knight was a frequent participant at Daybreak, and was even on track to be placed in an apartment in a brand-new affordable housing development Daybreak helped create next door. Sullivan spoke with him often and said she was excited for him to get off the street once and for all.

“He was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Sullivan said. “And he was so close.”

Leaving a lasting legacy

Even as she prepares to leave, Sullivan hasn’t veered from her mission of making a home for Macon’s homeless.

On Tuesday, the Sheridan Center and Respite Care facility welcomed its first patient . The center combines Sullivan’s passions for medicine and helping people experiencing homelessness by providing a place for people experiencing homelessness to rest and recuperate following hospital visits and to receive basic medical services.

It was a project years in the making which brought together businesses, institutions and community members to make it a reality. The center has 12 beds and four exam rooms, and partners with local medical practices and professionals to try and keep people experiencing homelessness from ending up in the emergency room.

“I really am (passionate about) health care,” Sullivan said. “People think of me in social work over here, but it really is amazing how this pulls together everything I’ve done over the years.”

As Sullivan walks through the facility — so new it still smells of wet paint — she beams with pride. It’s a tangible reminder of the labor of the last eight years, and the help and healing to come.

“I have gratitude,” Sullivan said. “I believe in the Macon people, that they will bring it to the next step.”