'She spoke our language': Deb Nanson kept sex workers safe in Hamilton and Niagara
Nanson, a former sex worker herself, started organizations for sex workers and people with addiction
Mark Royall is still driving around with a backpack in his car from Deb Nanson.
Royall is a pastor at Gate Alliance Church, the last place of employment for Nanson, who spent years doing street outreach and helping sex workers in Niagara and Hamilton. If you see a woman who's homeless, she told Royall, give her the backpack.
Nanson, a former sex worker who became a prolific advocate for the street-involved, died on May 1. Now, Royall cherishes the backpack.
"It just reminds me that Deb wasn't talk," Royall said. "She was action.
"She was an addict for many years, a prostitute herself. And instead of saying 'I'm free now, I'm fine,' she wanted to go out and help people where they were."
By all accounts, Nanson, 59, did that better than almost anyone.
She headed up Love at the Gate at Royall's Niagara Falls church. But her volunteerism dates back to 2000 in Hamilton, her LinkedIn account says. For seven years, she served food in a parking lot with a street outreach program. She also started a Hamilton addiction service called Come Walk a Mile.
She went on to found Terry's Evergreen Addiction Recovery Services in Niagara, then Cassey's Evergreen Bail Recovery Home. She also created Niagara's Sex Trade Task Force.
She also ran a street outreach team in Hamilton. With sex work, "you could go missing, and no one would notice," she said in 2012.
'She held my newborn daughter'
Nanson walked miles at night, in the dark, when everyone else went home, Royall said. She talked to people, and fed them, and distributed pamphlets and backpacks.
Olivia Jaskula was 13, homeless and using drugs when she met Nanson. Nanson was a youth co-ordinator at RAFT, a St. Catharines centre for at-risk youth.
"She spoke her mind," said Jaskula, 23, of Stoney Creek. "She swore a lot. But that was one of the things that got through to us. She spoke our language. For the first time, I felt like I could have a connection with someone who understood me."
Jaskula and Nanson stayed in touch. They celebrated sober anniversaries together. "She held my newborn daughter."
Nanson celebrated 13 years clean in March, Jaskula said. Even when death was imminent, Nanson didn't use.
'You could go missing, and no one would notice'
"That's the biggest thing she's ever done for us," Jaskula said.
Nanson gave frequent talks to women in Hamilton YWCA's transitional living program, said executive director Denise Christopherson. "I don't know that I'll ever meet another person like her in my lifetime."
Royall met Nanson, an avid Christian, in October. She took him to a rundown Niagara Falls hotel and distributed food and clothes. One man had known Nanson for years.
"He was in medical distress, so we called an ambulance," Royall said. "He was hungry, and she bought him dinner right there."
Nanson's work was so well known, he said, that people gave her spontaneous donations. "She would show up with suits from Moore's, or a pallet full of jam."
Her work continued through the cancer that led to her death, which happened a week after her birthday.
Working through the tiredness
"She worked through the tiredness," Royall said. "That inspired me."
Royall knows what's in the backpack now. Tissues. Condoms. Band Aids. Bottled water. There's also facial cleanser, a hairbrush, moisturizer, a notebook, tampons, and a resource pamphlet.
It's a last vestige of Nanson's work. She's survived by a mom and five siblings. They held a memorial service Saturday.
Her death has left "a big, huge hole," Royall said. "I walk by her office every day. There'd usually be a couple of women in there that she saved off the street. She'd be sitting on the floor, phoning, trying to get them places to live."
And now, "it's just empty."