Where help is always open: MARI Safe Station

At any hour of the day or night, a person struggling with addiction can walk up to Minneapolis Fire Station 14 on Lowry Avenue North, knock on the window and be welcomed inside; not for judgment or paperwork, but for help.

That’s the idea behind the MARI Safe Station, a low-barrier, walk-in access point for people seeking support for substance use disorder. The station operates through a partnership between the Minneapolis Fire Department and Twin Cities Recovery Project, connecting residents to detox services, recovery navigation and ongoing peer support, while also offering harm-reduction tools intended to prevent overdose deaths.

“We are a safe space and an opioid response unit,” said Catherine Simmons, a certified peer recovery specialist at the MARI Safe Station. “They knock on the window. We open. We welcome them in.”

Simmons said the Safe Station is designed for real-life circumstances: people arriving directly from the street, people referred through systems such as probation or child protection, and people worn down by cycles of addiction.

“Multiple people come through our doors,” she said, including Black, Latino, multiracial and other community members who have often been underserved or turned away by traditional systems of care.

What happens when someone walks in

At Fire Station 14, the first priority is safety and stability. In many cases, visitors complete a substance-use assessment and are connected to detox or treatment options. But Simmons said no one is required to commit to full intake in order to receive support.

“Sometimes they don’t do an assessment,” she said. “We do assessments and connect them, but we also meet immediate needs.”

That can include water, food and overdose reversal medication.

“We also distribute Narcan when necessary,” Simmons said.

The low-barrier approach matters in a crisis where many people use substances alone, experience housing instability or cycle through short-term interventions without sustained support. Simmons described the station as both a front door into treatment and a consistent point of contact that can “plant the seed” for someone who may not be ready today, but could be tomorrow.

The link to Twin Cities Recovery Project

Simmons emphasized that the MARI Safe Station is not separate from Twin Cities Recovery Project, but deeply rooted in it, serving as a connection point into a broader recovery network.

“I’m including the Twin Cities Recovery Project, all three sites,” she said, describing the infrastructure behind the station.

She described the model as a shared village: firefighters, peer recovery specialists and community partners aligned around one goal: connecting people to care quickly and sustaining that support long enough for real change.

“It is a relationship between the fire department and Twin Cities Recovery Project,” Simmons said. “It’s a village of two organizations that came together to help the communities they serve.”

She credited Twin Cities Recovery Project leader LaTricia Tate with shaping a recovery model that meets people where they are.

“When you talk about what LaTricia Tate does at Twin Cities Recovery Project,” Simmons said, “the MARI station reflects that work.”

A peer specialist with lived experience

Simmons speaks about recovery not as an abstract concept, but as someone who has lived it. She said she has been in recovery for 30 years, raised by parents who were also in recovery, and traces her own turning point to a moment of forced clarity.

“I was a drug dealer,” she said, recalling a night that ended with her waking up in jail. She said she was told she had fought multiple officers and could face years behind bars. Instead, she said a judge gave her three days to decide her next step.

On the third day, Simmons said she went to Chrysalis Women’s Center, completed a Rule 25 assessment and committed to sobriety.

“I’ve been sober ever since,” she said, marking her sobriety date as Aug. 11, 1995.

Her approach with clients is direct and rooted in honesty, a style she believes resonates with people tired of lectures.

“There’s no way I can walk in your shoes,” Simmons said, “but I can walk alongside you.”

For families watching loved ones struggle, Simmons said the Safe Station can serve as a first step, even if the individual isn’t ready for treatment. The focus, she said, is connection.

“We are here for you when you’re ready,” she said.

For more information, you can reach the MARI Safe Station by email at marisafestations@gmail.com, by phone at 612-442-2221, or by stopping by 2002 Lowry Ave. N., Minneapolis.

Scott Selmer welcomes reader responses at sselmer@spokesman-recorder.com