City Gate works to restore lost lives

Long before homelessness became an ever-present topic at City Council meetings, long before newer nonprofits began advocating for a solution, John Murinko walked among the broken and the hurting on the streets of Spokane.

Thirty-five years ago, he and several local pastors banded together to create the City Gate, a church specifically for Spokane’s inner-city dwellers and focused on ministering to the physical and spiritual needs of homeless individuals.

From a site on First Avenue to a location at the Otis Hotel to its present home on South Madison, the church has evolved into an enterprise offering a social drop-in center, hot meals, a food bank, clothing bank, life skills and social services, as well as low-cost housing and emergency shelter.

At its heart is Murinko, a soft-spoken man whose sturdy stature reflects the high school wrestler and football player he was in Deer Lodge, Montana.

His empathy for those in need stems from his early life.

“I grew up in a family of nine. Dad was a miner and an alcoholic and so was Mom,” he said. “Dad was abusive and died in a mining accident when I was 13. Mom died when I was 12.”

He lived with relatives, including a sister, but ended up sleeping in a variety of barns.

“I worked for a lot of ranchers and stayed in their barns,” Murinko said. “Sports kept me in school.”

And there was a girl.

“She was one of those ‘church girls,’ persistent and kind,” he said.

When he took a job out of town, she wrote him a letter.

“It was the first time I cried. I was 16. I discovered somebody really cares about me.”

Her name was Shirley and he married her two years later. They spent 44 years together. She died three years ago, but her picture hangs next to the kitchen at City Gate.

“I still have that letter,” he said.

They moved to Spokane in 1978 and Murinko worked as a cabinet maker.

“I saw all of these people asking for handouts downtown,” he said. “I kind of broke. I cried about it for a long time.”

Then, with Shirley’s support, he decided to do something besides weep, and the City Gate was formally incorporated in 1988.

Murinko had moved from cabinet making to plumbing and purchased Bill the Fauceteer from its owner. The job supported his family, but he spent many hours downtown, befriending those on the streets and inviting them to City Gate. His wife and sons, Eric and Shawn, spent countless hours there and Eric now works in administration for the nonprofit.

The ministry grew, but so did the need. In 2000, Murinko saw the site on Madison for sale and presented the idea of purchasing it to the board. A contractor looked over the building and told them they’d need $1 million to purchase and renovate it.

“Ruth Pearson, an amazing person, was on our board. She wrote us a check for the full amount,” he said.

The additional space meant they could increase their services.

“Now, we can offer long-term housing and emergency shelter,” Murinko said. “Our mission has always been to reclaim, rebuild and restore lost and broken lives – and it’s a long process.”

For Murinko, that process begins with discovering what the most urgent need of an individual is and meeting it. Is it a meal? A hot shower? Clean clothes? Medical assistance?

The City Gate networks with a host of agencies from the VA to Frontier Behavioral Health. A nurse who once volunteered as a student now comes in as needed. An AA group meets daily, and their food and clothing bank provides necessities.

While the news is filled with stories about how society is failing the unhoused, Murinko sees success stories wherever he looks.

Sitting in the dining room at City Gate, he pointed to a man sweeping the floor.

“He was the worst heroin addict I’ve ever seen – meaner than a junkyard dog,” Murinko said. “Now, he’s married and on staff, in charge of the food bank.”

He pointed to a man at the front desk.

“He’s a former gang leader who followed a girl up here from Arizona. Now, he’s married, got his kids back, owns his own home and manages our volunteers.”

Though City Gate is a church, it doesn’t require anyone in need of assistance to attend a service.

“If you’re trying to reach people with the Gospel, it’s not about your words, it’s more about what you do,” Murinko said. “I don’t spend a lot of time in here. I’m out there, befriending.”

He shrugged.

“They know me.”

For all his gentleness, he insists that those accessing services at City Gate be respectful of the community.

“I’ve closed the dining room for two weeks when there’s been tussles and squabbles. We want them to be part of the community,” he said.

After spending 35 years working with this vulnerable population, Murinko said everyone’s story is different and a one-size-fits-all approach simply doesn’t work.

At 64, he has no intention of slowing down. In fact, he sold his business to spend more time with the work he feels God called him to.

“Why would I ever go anywhere else?” he asked. “I don’t get discouraged, but sometimes it breaks my heart.”

Murinko invites those who’d like to be part of the solution to come and see what City Gate is all about.

“Come visit,” he said. “If you do, you’ll probably have a different view of the homeless.”

For more information about the City Gate, visit www.thecitygatespokane.org/