Updated at 11:45 a.m. on Wednesday, Jan. 7, 2026.
A few years back, Phillip West lived on the streets of San Antonio, waiting to die.
He had once held down a sales job at a nonprofit. He paid taxes. He took college courses. He was a part of society — fully human, he said. Back then, he frowned on people suffering from addiction, living and dying outside.
“I didn’t know it could be that bad,” he said. “I didn’t understand how a person could be that lost. And so I had no sympathy for them.”
Even as he started selling drugs for extra cash, he couldn’t imagine falling that low. He felt on top of the world.
But then he was arrested. He served time in prison. And after his release, he couldn’t stay sober.
“It’s horrible,” he said. “It’s a struggle. It’s dark. And you don’t feel anybody understands you. Being homeless and on the street, you almost don’t care what people think. You don’t care what people think. You know they don’t like you, because most of them are hard on you. You know they are judgmental.”
But now Wells is finding his way out of homelessness and addiction, returning to school and dedicating his life to helping others.
Wells told Denverite his story of addiction and recovery at the Sage Ridge Supportive Residential Community, Colorado’s new supportive housing and treatment campus on 560 acres near Watkins, east of the Denver metro.
He was one of the first five residents at a new facility that the Colorado Coalition for the Homeless sees as a potential “national model” for addressing the intersection of homelessness and addiction.
Sage Ridge, run by the Colorado Coalition for the Homeless, opened in September. It is the rare kind of place people of all political stripes have been asking for. The nearly 200-bed facility offers housing and treatment, job training, case management and hope for a better future for people who’ve lost nearly everything.
But the path to Sage Ridge has been a hard one.
From a death wish to treatment
West’s friends on the streets of San Antonio were dying around him — including the ones he thought could help him get back on his feet. Every time West saw his mom and son, he was either high or withdrawing. Too ashamed and hoping to protect them, he cut ties, hoping his life would end.
“My son’s with my mom,” he thought. “It’s OK for me to die. I think he’ll be OK in her hands.”
So he was alone.
One day, drug dealers tried to kill his friend, another homeless man, he said; when West tried to defend him, he became their target.
“I tried to help somebody else out,” he recalled. “And they tried to kill me for it.”
Surviving the attack, he went to his mom’s home, where his son was living. West was battered, wearing only one shoe.
“I never wanted my mom to see me like that, and my child also,” he said.
The next day, his mom drove him to Great Oaks, a rehab in Texas where he began his recovery journey.
“It was almost like a resort,” he said. “They had a hot tub and everything, and they had great doctors. The doctors and therapists there were great. And so they helped me see that there's a different way.”
He met other people who came from the streets, who had recovered from addiction and who were helping other people.
“That gave me hope,” he said. “That’s where my life changed.”
A journey to Colorado — and a devastating crash
When it came time to leave rehab, West feared returning to San Antonio. It didn’t feel safe. So he started looking for other options and found Denver CARES Transitional Residential Treatment — a locked treatment center in the city that allows residents to leave the community for fresh air breaks and eventually to look for housing and work.
He didn’t plan to stay in Denver, but he fell in love with Colorado. So he got a job at the National Western Stock Show complex and started looking for an apartment.
Then, while riding a Lime scooter to work early one morning, he crashed and shattered his leg.
“I was mad at God,” he said.
He wound up at the Stout Street Clinic, a homeless rehab facility, where he healed for a few months. Somehow, he stayed sober through it all — a challenging feat.
Stout Street doctors referred him to CCH’s Fort Lyon Supportive Residential Community, a few hours outside of Denver. He stayed there for a stint, and when he learned Sage Ridge was opening, he moved there three months ago — one of the very first guests at the new facility.
Sage Ridge is a 26-mile drive southeast of the Colorado Capitol.
The campus is sandwiched between sprawling Eastern Plains and a towering but oddly scenic landfill that looks more foothill than trash heap.
The Sage Ridge Supportive Residential Community in Watkins, operated by the Colorado Coalition for the Homeless. Dec. 31, 2025. Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite
Future clinic space at the Sage Ridge Supportive Residential Community in Watkins, operated by the Colorado Coalition for the Homeless. Dec. 31, 2025. Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite
It’s the site of the former Ridge View Youth Services Center, a school and training program for troubled youth that was shut down by the state of Colorado in 2021 after teens disappeared and fights and drugs tarnished its reputation.
In 2022, state lawmakers passed a bill to prioritize drug and alcohol recovery for people experiencing homelessness. The Colorado Coalition for the Homeless was tapped to run the 560-acre campus for drug treatment recovery and long-term supportive housing, with AllHealth Network providing detox, residential and outpatient behavioral health care.
The state has allocated $45 million in American Rescue Plan Act money to renovate the facility and run it for its first two years.
Sage Ridge is the rare recovery center for people experiencing homelessness that’s tranquil, cost-free and led, in part, by residents on a stunning campus that looks more like a community college than an institution.
Cathy Alderman, a spokesperson for the Coalition, said Sage Ridge is one of two campuses like it in the country: free to guests and offering transitional supportive housing and medical aid. The other is Fort Lyon Supportive Residential Community, also run by the Coalition.
While it’s unclear how much it will cost to run Sage Ridge long term, Fort Lyon’s budget is about $8 million a year.
Sage Ridge has room for nearly 200 guests. There’s a medical area, a football field, basketball courts, dining areas and plenty of room to spread out.
Guests currently have their own rooms, but ultimately they will share dorm-style rooms as the new program reaches capacity.
A staged dormroom at the Sage Ridge Supportive Residential Community in Watkins, operated by the Colorado Coalition for the Homeless. Dec. 31, 2025. Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite
Unfilled apartments at the Sage Ridge Supportive Residential Community in Watkins, operated by the Colorado Coalition for the Homeless. Dec. 31, 2025. Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite
The program’s not for everybody. To go to Sage Ridge, you’ve got to want to work on recovery. You have to be either homeless or on the cusp of losing your housing. You need to be 18 or older and a Colorado resident for the past six months.
This isn’t a place a judge can force you to go. You cannot be there as part of your probation or parole. You can’t have violent criminal charges. And sobriety is mandatory.
Phillip West happened to be a perfect fit.
Some of the early participants left because they found Sage Ridge too lonely. But West has appreciated the peacefulness of the place. The longer people stay, the more positive they become, he said.
Around 20 people are living at Sage Ridge as it ramps up. Eventually, there will be nearly 200.
While there, West has earned his peer recovery certificate. And he’s preparing to take college classes again. He’s launched a sobriety podcast and blog — and he has found purpose in helping others.
Now, when people come to Sage Ridge, he welcomes them. Some are sure they want to be there. Others still feel hesitant.
He doesn’t tell people what to do, how to get sober. But he does share his story and listen to other people’s.
“This is what I'm supposed to do in my life,” West said. “I'm supposed to help others. This is what it is all about. This is what life is about: giving back, just helping each other.”
Soon, he hopes, he will be well enough to reunite with his son.
Editor's note: This article was updated to include information about AllHealth Network's role on the campus. Denverite also corrected the story to note that the program is "transitional," not "permanent" supportive housing.
