Felicia Latson

Felicia Latson, LCSW, has been instrumental in developing and implementing Legacy’s Social Determinants of Health (SDOH) program and serves as our first Senior Director – Programs, Social Determinants of Health. Legacy’s SDOH program was launched in 2018 to address the socio-economic factors that negatively impact patient health. In Fiscal Year 2021, the team managed a caseload of 3,392 patients, more than double that of the previous year.

According to the World Health Organization, social determinants of health (SDOH) are “the non-medical factors that influence health outcomes. They are the conditions in which people are born, grow, work, live, and age, and the wider set of forces and systems shaping the conditions of daily life.” The majority of a person’s health and well-being exists outside of the care delivered in the doctor’s office. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, Kaiser Family Foundation, and Robert Wood Johnson Foundation have outlined the importance of addressing social factors impacting an individual’s health. Legacy’s SDOH program connects low-income patients with food, transportation, utility and housing assistance.

This is about treating the whole person. “By addressing the environmental health impacts individuals face,” Latson explained, “Legacy works to prevent sickness or poor health in the first place. Some ways that this can happen are by ensuring that an individual not only has food to eat, but that the food is healthy; and ensuring patients have access to affordable housing. Legacy is able to do this by utilizing collaborations with community programs that uplift patients’ quality of life by connecting them to resources they need to thrive.”

Legacy’s SDOH program includes a unique intake process, which screens patients for certain non-clinical health barriers during the patient’s visit – such as not having access to proper nutrition in Houston’s food deserts – in order to connect them to a better livelihood.

In fiscal year 2021, the COVID-19 pandemic led to a jump in demand for the services provided by Legacy’s SDOH program. Health Advocate Student Interns worked to identify patients who are likely to have lower quality-of-life outcomes due to conditions in the environment they are born into and live in. Felicia was instrumental in implementing innovative programs such as FoodRX, a collaboration with the Houston Food Bank to provide patients and neighborhood residents with boxes of fresh produce and bottled water.

“At Legacy our mission is to drive healthy change in our communities. Our programs help to break down the barriers and stigma that people sometimes face in getting access to quality medical care,” said Latson. “The patient follow-up is the key part of our program,” said Latson. “We want to make sure our patients are actually getting the assistance they need. It’s how we’re measuring success.”

In addition to continuing to innovate and expand our SDOH program, Latson has participated in numerous forums such as the University of Houston’s Health: A Call to Action conference and the Texas State of Reform Health Policy Conference in Austin to share her expertise and highlight the importance of identifying and addressing social determinants in the health care sector.

Theron Bretz

“I was leaving work one afternoon on a bright sunny day, and as I stepped into the parking lot I put on my sunglasses,” recalls Theron Bretz, Manager of IT Compliance and Security Awareness. “As I was walking to my car, this older gentleman came walking towards me looking very upset. I thought, You know, what’s going on? So I stopped and said, ‘Can I help you?’ And he stopped me and he said, ‘Oh, honey, you didn’t have to do that. I don’t know you.’ He was talking about me covering my face with sunglasses; he thought me, presenting male, walking out of Montrose Clinic – the gay clinic, the HIV clinic – that I was worried about being spotted, and he was trying to tell me that everything was okay.”

This moment from the early 2000s has always stuck with Theron as a lesson on how important privacy is to what Montrose Clinic, and eventually Legacy Community Health, does on a daily basis.

In March 1999, Theron became Montrose Clinic’s 40^th employee. Some twenty-plus years later, Theron is leading the charge on IT training for well over 1,000 employees at Legacy Community Health. “I joke that my job is to scare doctors to make them afraid of the internet,” he quips.

When Theron joined Montrose Clinic, which grew to become Legacy Community Health, he originally served at the administrative assistant for the Medical Director and Director of Social Work, eventually moving on to serve the director of development and Katy Caldwell, Executive Director. In 2004, a position opened up for Director of Operations, which handled information technology.

“I joke about it, but I was the least qualified person we had on staff at the time who knew something about computers,” he recalls. “So I got a two-week crash course – suddenly I was the operations manager overseeing computers and facilities.”

Shortly thereafter, between 2005 and 2006, Montrose Clinic merged with The Assistance Fund and Body Positive, becoming Legacy Community Health. Through the growth, Theron managed Legacy’s help desk and IT support, keeping the burgeoning clinic on its feet during one of the most crucial stretches of its development.

“About five or six years ago, I transitioned into the security role and a big part of that is staff security awareness.” Famous for his phishing tests, Theron keeps Legacy staff on their toes by employing a range of cybersecurity lessons throughout the year, emphasizing the importance of protecting patient health information from scammers, hackers, and phishers.

Recalling Legacy’s former, older Southwest building, he’s filled with pride thinking about how far Legacy’s come since he was hired – back when Montrose Clinic was but one small building. “The first time I walked into [the new, current Legacy Southwest] I teared up because it’s just so amazing. It’s beautiful,” he says. “Just to see the way we grow, to see what that impact is, and think about where we were and where we are.”

“[Legacy Southwest] is my favorite to go. I tell my boss all the time going there gives me all the warm fuzzies.”

Judge James F. Kovach

Judge James “Jim” F. Kovach joined the Montrose Clinic board in 2004, a pivotal time in the organization’s history.  The clinic had just begun the process to become a Federally-Qualified Health Center (FQHC) and then, one year later it merged with the Assistance Fund and became Legacy Community Health.

“I remember we met for a brainstorming session at United Way. We had sticky notes on the walls on which we’d written our dreams and aspirations for the future,” says Kovach. “We set an ambitious goal of providing affordable health care to Southeast Texas, and I was initially skeptical we could achieve this in our original timeline. I felt energized, but it was a daunting task.”

Kovach was also involved in the decision to move into Fifth Ward in 2006. “It took courage from (former CEO) Katy Caldwell and the leadership of other board members who said. ’Let’s go do it. Let’s go try.’ It was so successful. And now Legacy has that beautiful Fifth Ward clinic in a neighborhood that very much deserves it.”

Kovach says Caldwell’s leadership and friendship inspired him to become a judge in Harris County’s Civil Court. “I learned to dream big. And, when I visit neighborhoods and talk about my time on the board, almost everyone has a friend or family member who’s been impacted by Legacy. I’m incredibly proud to have been associated with an agency that has meant so much to so many people.”

Joe Tate and Bob Lawson

Bob Lawson recalls his six years as a Legacy board member were some of the most impactful and fulfilling in his life. “The Board dreamed big dreams for its growth, built a foundation for its financial strength, and adopted a new name that honored its past.  I take great pride in the organization and its team.” 

In the early 2000s when Legacy was still known as the Montrose Clinic, services were spread out in three locations. “We just felt like it made more sense to be in a central location where we could offer the best service and keep the team together,” says Lawson. “But we knew it was important to stay close to our roots in Montrose.”? 

Legacy purchased property at 1415 California Street In 2006, just a block from the bus route that made it easier for people to get there. Bob pushed hard for a Development Officer to raise money and lead a capital campaign for what would eventually become the new Montrose clinic.? 

“My husband Joe and I are proud to have our name on the donor wall at the clinic even though it was a huge financial commitment for us. But it’s something that we felt had to be done, and the community really stepped up,” Lawson says. “I’m amazed at how big Legacy has become and how many people they impact. It’s so much more than I ever thought it could be when I was sitting on the board.” 

On the morning of August 29, 2005, Hurricane Katrina made landfall as a category 4 hurricane approximately 45 miles southeast of New Orleans. As the storm progressed inland, officials in New Orleans thought they had “dodged a bullet, but as the hours dragged on, the levee system in New Orleans was overwhelmed by the amount of rain and the storm surge.

By August 30, 80% of New Orleans was underwater. People who did not evacuate were either stranded at home or had taken shelter at the Superdome.

People who were able to evacuate to Houston started showing up at Montrose Clinic. Many of them thought they would only be gone for a few days and did not have an adequate supply of their medications. They knew that Montrose Clinic could help. As evacuees continued to arrive in Houston, the Astrodome took on new life as a place of shelter.

A Legacy employee contacted Katy Caldwell and said they believed we had a problem brewing. It was initially estimated that that the Astrodome would shelter 2,300 people, but final estimates were that 60,000 were sheltered at the Astrodome, and that at any given time there were about 25,000 across all the shelters across the city.

The Montrose Clinic response to the burgeoning crisis was two-fold: Staff went to the Astrodome wearing logo shirts. The hope was that people who were living with HIV and/or members of the LGBT+ community would self-identify and request assistance.

Additionally, the staff of NO AIDS had evacuated to Houston. The Board of Montrose Clinic was prepared to help them and their clients any way that they could. Montrose Clinic office space was provided for NO AIDS staff. Marianne Huerter, the Board Chair, called Montrose Clinic Board member Tim Martinez, suggesting that financial assistance might be needed to help NO AIDS. Martinez told her, “There isn’t any choice. It is the right thing to do.”

As Board members from both organizations coordinated with each other, Montrose Clinic Executive Director, Katy Caldwell worked with the executive director of NO AIDS to reach out to donors locally and across the nation to provide financial assistance. In the end, NO AIDS was able to stay financially afloat and is still in existence today. They are now known as CrescentCare and have expanded their services across New Orleans.

Our legacy of helping people doesn’t just stay within the confines of Southeast Texas. It doesn’t know any borders.

Lamar University is a diverse and globally accessible university that has been serving the Southeast Texas community since 1923. From the time that Legacy opened its first Beaumont location in the South Park neighborhood in 2012, we’ve been working together to break down barriers to health care for our students and the community at large. We embrace Legacy’s mission of “Driving healthy change in our communities,” and its belief that comprehensive health care is a human right, regardless of the ability to pay, without judgment or exception.

Lamar’s students come from many backgrounds and from across the world. Some students do not have health insurance, or know how to access health care or manage their health and wellness. There are many in the Beaumont community who face these same barriers. Through our relationship with Legacy, we’ve worked together on countless efforts to drive healthy change on the Lamar campus and surrounding community. We’ve offered public health education on a variety of topics such as HIV/AIDS and COVID-19, conducted free health screenings, engaged with LGBTQ+ and first-generation college student groups to empower them to own their health, and participated in various activities to build awareness of Legacy’s comprehensive health and wellness services.  Additionally, in the past Lamar has had students intern at Legacy Community Health as part of their required coursework.

As we prepare to celebrate Lamar’s centennial celebration in 2023, we are more committed and excited than ever to continue working with Legacy to break down barriers to health care for our students and surrounding community.

Jessica Ramirez

Mental health care isn’t something Jessica’s family ever gave much thought to. For Jessica, the notion of having a therapist was something reserved for “crazy people”—that is until she decided to seek help for herself and discovered that the stigma against mental health is nothing but nonsense. 

Jessica Ramirez has struggled with depression much of her life, but outside of school counselors, she never had the opportunity to seek professional treatment. “My older family members don’t believe in this stuff, so it kind of makes you not believe in it,” she says. For her family, imbalances and uncertainty should be addressed with the church.  

Although society is taking steps to end the stigma, we still have a way to go. For patients like Jessica, the effects of mental health stigma were far reaching. As she grew older, her depression remained.  

Rather than battle it on her own, she reached out to Legacy Community Health to take control. After a year of treatment with Legacy, she says she has no plans to stop any time soon. “I’ve talked to other mental health care providers and it’s just different. Dr. Young is just the best. Open to anything I have to say. I feel like she cares more than anything. I feel safe.” 

Looking back on her struggle with crippling depression over the years, Jessica couldn’t be happier with her current state and her outlook on the future. “I’m just really happy. I love it. I have never even thought about stopping. I’m very happy here,” she says. 

Daniel Gutierrez

Daniel Gutierrez is Billing Data Coordinator at Legacy Montrose Allen Parkway (LMA). His Legacy journey began in 2001 as a patient at the Montrose Clinic. The following year, he worked the front desk for the Body Positive program. Gutierrez has worn many hats during his long career at Legacy, including serving  in Eligibility and Verification.

“What I love most about working here is the diversity. You won’t find that anywhere else. I learn something new every day,” says Daniel. “I have made a lot of friends and colleagues at Legacy, and the support has been overwhelming.”

Growing up as the tenth child in a family of twelve kids, Daniel’s favorite traditions were always the huge parties for Christmas and birthdays. Those traditions are still in place but are much smaller now since his parents have passed away.

“In 1995, I was diagnosed with HIV and for some reason I thought I would be shunned by family members and friends, but the opposite happened.  Everyone was uplifting and supportive,” Daniel courageously shares.

Daniel’s favorite saying comes from the Book of Proverbs, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding but in all your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your path!”

Representative Garnet Coleman

Legacy Community Health’s roots stem from the heart of Texas House District 147. In the 1980s, Legacy took a stand to meet the needs of the community, providing health care at the height of the HIV/AIDS crisis in a small operation off Richmond Avenue. Now, Legacy has become the largest network of community health centers in the state with over 40 clinics not only in Houston, but across Southeast Texas. With its growth, Legacy has kept its promise to meet the needs of our most vulnerable populations, expanding access to care for close to 190,000 community members, including women, children and seniors. I thank Legacy for the care it provides my constituents every day and me personally as my primary care provider.

Sincerely,

Garnet F. Coleman

Texas House of Representatives, District 147

Evelyn and Oliver Boeckmann

During the COVID-19 pandemic, Evelyn Boeckmann became concerned when her son Oliver developed a cough.  With the coronavirus was very much on her mind, she scheduled an online appointment at Legacy Community Health’s Pediatric Southwest Walk-In Clinic. There Dr. Yong Han saw Oliver and helped him get the treatment he needed.

“Everyone was very nice and we didn’t have to wait long to see Dr. Han,” said Boeckmann. “Any worries I had about the virus quickly disappeared. The staff wore masks and disinfected after each patient.”

The Legacy Southwest Pediatric Walk-In Clinic opened in 2019 to offer comprehensive services to patients and their families through flexible hours, minimal wait times and convenience of care. Located in Houston’s diverse Gulfton neighborhood, the clinic is staffed seven-days-a-week and sees patients, between the ages of newborn to 18-years-old, for a multitude of illnesses and conditions.

Boeckmann’s children get much of their health care through Legacy’s school based clinics at KIPP Connect schools. However, during the COVID-19 pandemic, Legacy Southwest Pediatric Walk-In Clinic proved to be the right option at the right time.

“The care my son got was amazing. I had no doubt that Legacy made his health and wellbeing a priority during this stressful time,” said Boeckmann.

Annise D. Parker, Former Mayor of Houston

“Legacy Community Health has been driving healthy change in our community for more than 40 years. Their commitment to providing services and programs to all who need them, regardless of the ability to pay, without judgement or exception, serves as a shining example of the community impact nonprofit organizations can have. 

It is easy to take access to health care for granted when it is provided at a reasonable cost through an employer but for many in our community it’s a daily worry. Will their children get the dental care or eyeglasses they need to perform well at school? Will an expectant mother be able to receive the vitamins and checkups she needs to ensure a healthy delivery? Where will an unemployed young adult diagnosed with HIV/AIDS be able to turn for help and treatment? 

Thankfully, Legacy Community Health is there with the answers and the care. They identify unmet needs in health care services and fill in the gaps with client-centered programs that address those needs. And they do so with a keen eye toward fiscal responsibility. 

I salute Legacy Community Health for being a community leader. Thank you for all that you do and best wishes for more successful years ahead!”

Brian Keever

Brian Keever has been living with HIV since 1986. Since his diagnosis he has been an advocate, a volunteer, a community activist, and more. Helping others for as long as he could became his reason to get up each day. “Still kicking in 2021,” Keever says that giving up was never an option.

“They told me, ‘Don’t worry, you’ll be passed away by ’89, so you might as well get your affairs in order,’” recalls Brian Keever, longtime HIV survivor.

“Of course, back then that’s how it really happened,” Keever clarifies.

In 1985, Keever weighed just 128 pounds and had a 29-inch waist. As an adult male, he knew something was off. His physician, Dr. Patricia Salvato, could not see him pro bono, but knew he couldn’t afford to pay for treatments. She first referred Keever to MD Anderson. He had friends involved with Montrose Clinic however, including future executive director of the clinic Thomas Audette, and ultimately became both a patient and volunteer with “the little clinic that could.”

Instead of preparing his end-of-life affairs, he got involved.

“I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Montrose Clinic,” Keever says of the small volunteer clinic which later became Legacy Community Health. “Not every clinic or doctor was doing the same thing [in HIV care]. There wasn’t a standard. Different doctors and clinics tried different medications. I did a double-blind study for a drug out of a laboratory in Lyon, France [through Montrose Clinic] where I took six pills once a week – they helped me stay alive.”

The community knew of Keever’s survivorship, too. Popular in the gay scene, Keever used his influence to answer questions and refer people to the lifesaving care at Montrose Clinic. “Montrose Clinic was probably one of the best-run clinics in the state of Texas,” Keever remembers. “We still are!”

“I went through more than my share of funerals and memorials for friends who passed away,” Keever continues. “But through the 1980s we did the March on Washington, the AIDS Quilt; I was a member of the board of directors for the Names Project here in Houston, which was wonderful. We were the first city to bring the quilt outside of Washington, DC and we brought it over the George R. Brown [Convention Center]. A lot of people who helped with that were also involved with Montrose Clinic.”

“There weren’t a lot of straight people involved at the time, other than to occasionally donate some money,” Keever concludes. “But really no big organizations to speak of. It was really on our shoulders as a community. It was places like Montrose Clinic that kept us alive and got things done.”

Mary’s Bar

At the corner of Waugh and Westheimer sits a popular coffee shop. The building is squatty and old, and the coffee is wildly popular among the caffeine aficionados and younger crowd of the inner city. While queued up to order your brew, there is only a single hint to the location’s storied history. 

Below your feet, near the wall opposite the counter, is a pink triangle embedded in the slate gray concrete flooring. 

From the early 1970s to 2011, long before it was a coffee bar, the site was occupied by one of the most notorious gay bars in the country, Mary’s, Naturally. The Montrose favorite stood out among the rest with rotating bawdy murals by Scott Swoveland on the side of the building, like the famous interior scene featuring caricatures of real patrons and even the bar cat, Mr. Balls, perched on a stool. 

“When I first came out [in the early 1970s], Mary’s was the hot place to go for happy hours, especially on Sunday afternoons,” says Don Gill, longtime Mary’s, Naturally patron and reveler. “It was very crowded. [The atmosphere] was ‘Levi’s and leather’; no cologne or jewelry. It was that kind of crowd.” 

The all-in-good-fun nature of the bar made it a staple for Houston’s LGBTQ+ community and passers through alike. Police raids became a regular occurrence; in one instance over 60 were arrested in a single night for the crime of finding community. The patrons at Mary’s began to anticipate and participate in the raids because they were predictable—they always came just before Pride.  

Historian JD Doyle adds, “The bar and its management were very supportive of the community. It allowed some clubs to have organizing meetings there. Andy Mills, manager from 1976 to 1985, was also founder and director of the Montrose Singers and Montrose Symphonic Band, which morphed into the Gay Men’s Chorus and Houston Pride Band.” 

When the AIDS crisis hit Houston in the early 1980s, Mary’s became a natural community gathering place for the mourning. In the climate of the time, many gay men lost to the crisis were abandoned by their families, left to be mourned by their chosen families instead. To compound the issue, some funeral homes refused the bodies of gay men lost to AIDS. Over the coming years, the Mary’s Outback became the site of countless memorial services by friends of loved ones lost to the virus. While the lore suggests that some men may have been buried at the site, the former owners of Mary’s denied it. But every tall tale is risen from a grain of truth: there were countless ashes spread or buried at the Outback. 

“I lost my brothers and cousins to HIV and AIDS,” Gill says. “Lady Victoria Lust, who was an icon in fundraising, had a charity and when she died, she left it to me to run. Mary’s opened their arms to fundraisers like my self to raise funds for the less fortunate. They were the first location for our office when we put together PWA Holiday Charities. They allowed constant fundraisers, one right after the other, on their patio.”  

“I personally dug and buried the ashes of Lady Victoria Lust,” Gill remembers. “We buried her ashes and planted a lavender tree. A lot of [people’s ashes] were buried or spread there.” 

“The gay women who went to Mary’s just bent over backward to help the gay men who were ill,” Gill continues. “If you needed someone to go to the store for you, just call one of them and she’d be there. Some volunteered to visit someone’s house to clean, or go over every morning to walk their dogs. They did the same thing that a sibling would do for a relative.” After the advent of protease inhibitors in 1996, the death toll began to decline. While even in 2021 we’ve not beaten the HIV epidemic, the tide had begun to turn. Mary’s remained a storied institution in the community, but saw fewer and fewer memorial services as time went on. 

“Throughout the nineties, a lot of the bars slowed down,” Gill says. “With the internet, you could go online, so why go to a bar? As with any gay bar, business slowed.” And so it was written. 

Though physically lost to time, Mary’s lives on through stories kept alive like Gill’s, through archives on HoustonLGBTHistory.org, and with hints of her former self left behind like the triangle on the floor of the coffee shop. 

Pride Houston revelers on the roof and along the front patio of Mary’s, Naturally in 1979. Photo courtesy the JD Doyle Archives. 

An iconic mural on the side of Mary’s, Naturally by artist Scott Swoveland. Photo courtesy the JD Doyle Archives. 

Don Gill running for Mr. Prince Choice in January 1993 at Mary’s, Naturally, speaking at the fundraiser River of Dreams, benefitting Stone Soup and the Names Project. Photo courtesy Don Gill. 

Tony Arliss Smith

All his life, Tony Arliss Smith knew he was not the person the people in his life expected him to grow up to be. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t dress in “boy clothes” or why he had to wear a bathing suit instead of swimming trunks. After finding himself struggling with substance use to cope with the vitriol of the people in his life who shamed him for his identity, he found hope at Legacy Community Health.

Tony Arliss Smith was just a little boy from Kirbyville, Texas. A stone’s throw from the Louisiana border and an hour’s drive to Beaumont – the nearest “big” town. Smith was assigned female at birth, but he knew from an early age that this was incorrect. Someone, somewhere had made a mistake – he didn’t like dresses, petit shoes, and bathing suits. He much preferred swimming trunks, shorts, and tees. Some adults may have called him a “tomboy”, but Smith knew it reached far beyond that.

The struggle began early. He couldn’t understand why the adults in his life not only kept him from the traditionally masculine things he enjoyed, but shamed him to enjoying them. This was the first step down a difficult road for Smith, who believed the words of his elders. “I believed what the adults told me: that my very being was a sin, that who I was, was shameful and needed to be corrected,” Smith said. “With few coping skills and no understanding for the way I felt, I desperately searched for ways to escape. By age eleven I began having suicidal thoughts, which I tried to numb with substances.”

Over his teen years, Smith attempted to fit in with girls his age through sports leagues, therapy, religion, and relationships. These attempts only reinforced what he knew to be true, further alienating him from his community. With no outside support and no way to properly vocalize what he was experiencing, he fell deeper into his depression.

That is until he discovered Legacy Community Health. As a young adult in East Texas, he began seeking health care at Legacy Beaumont, a support system he calls “lifesaving”. “I built a life for myself filled with people who truly supported me,” Smith said. “I was even able to attend college and obtain a degree. But there was always something not quite right, something I just couldn’t identify.”

Smith was 35 when he began accessing his lifesaving gender care at Legacy Beaumont. “It was exactly the right time, exactly the right place, and most importantly, exactly the right people. My story is about what can happen when a person gets the support they need, the support they deserve.”

Smith has since become a social worker himself, helping thousands of families, individuals, and caregivers, giving back to the community that saved him and becoming part of the change for others.