Coming back to Union Gospel Mission Twin Cities wasn’t easy for Kory. “This is my second time here—my first time taking it seriously.”
Kory grew up navigating instability, loss and untreated mental health challenges. Alcohol became a way to cope, and over time, it led to deeper consequences—legal trouble, broken relationships, and years spent trying to numb pain instead of healing it. Even after his first stay at UGMTC, Kory left without fully engaging in the work he knew he needed to do.
“I just kept thinking about getting back to drinking,” he says. “The only thing that mattered was after prison was that I was out. I could do what I wanted.”
But life kept pulling him back to the same breaking point—until something finally changed. After another charge and another low moment, Kory listened to two voices urging him to return: his mom and a friend he’d met during his first stay at UGMTC.
“He was always this religious voice and conscience for me,” Kory says. “He convinced me to come back and really give it a shot this time.”
When Kory returned, staff welcomed him without judgment.
“They didn’t hold my past against me.”
“They didn’t hold my past against me,” he says. “They knew something had to give—and I got lucky enough to be given another chance.”
This time, Kory leaned in.
He took advantage of the many services available to him. One of the biggest differences has been access to mental health care.
“The mental health services staff here are heroes,” Kory says. “The EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) for PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder), the CBT (Cognitive Behavioral Therapy)—it’s helped me stop myself before things spiral. I can’t thank them enough.”
For the first time, Kory began addressing trauma instead of running from it. At the same time, spiritual care helped reshape how he viewed faith.
“When I was a kid, I didn’t have a good opinion of Christianity,” he shares. “But that hole I tried to fill with fighting and drinking has been filled by the church.”
Kory describes a moment that cemented his decision to stay. After a rough week, driving alone, tempted to quit again, he says, “I felt this weight on my shoulders.” “Not fear…reassurance. Like someone had their arm around me. I knew I needed to be here.”
As Kory stabilized, something unexpected happened: creativity resurfaced. He began painting—first for himself, then for the community around him.
“I didn’t think I had any talent,” he says. “Now I’m painting murals, helping turn rooms into shared spaces, and giving back in ways I never thought I could.”
Through programs like LifeNet (Adult Education), financial literacy classes and personal development groups, Kory learned practical skills alongside emotional resilience.
“I never had so many people believe in me before.”
“Nobody taught me credit or budgeting growing up,” he explains. “Now I’m setting up bank accounts, preparing for work, and learning how to move forward.”
Community has been just as powerful—from running groups to shared meals to leadership opportunities he never expected.
“I kind of accidentally got roped into helping other guys,” Kory laughs. “I never had so many people believe in me before.”
Kory once believed he’d already lived past his expiration date. Today, his perspective is radically different.
“I can’t look at the old self-portrait I painted anymore and recognize myself,” he says. “Now I see how far I’ve come.”
“Because of this place, I finally know who I’m becoming.”
For the first time in years, Kory is thinking about the future: school, work, service and continued healing. “I didn’t know life could restart on such good footing,” he says. “Now I can actually see the future—and I’m excited about it.”
Grateful for the staff, the campus and the community that refused to give up on him, Kory knows this simple truth: “I can’t quit anymore. Because of this place, I finally know who I’m becoming.”