Monica Yant Kinney: Broad Street coffeeshop is a haven for a once homeless man

Four years ago, after Broad Street Ministries opened an overnight homeless refuge across from the Kimmel Center, the Rev. Bill Golderer noticed clients "migrating" down the block to the Starbucks at 6 each morning.

Most warmed up and departed quickly. Dennis Jones moved in.

"The business model is, you get your drink, you eat, and you leave," Golderer explained, recalling his concern. "You're not there for six or eight hours."

Or 12, 13, or 14 hours, which is often how long Jones still lingers.

If the homeless veteran and the corporate caffeine machine didn't have so much in common, this story would end with Jones being evicted from his desirable rent-free perch in the front window at Broad and Pine Streets. But Starbucks and the homeless have both suffered perception problems and snubs from those who would sooner cross the street than drink a mass-market Americano or speak to a scruffy stranger.

So Jones stayed, playing his keyboard through headphones, sketching, and earning gold-card customer status for downing up to 50 cups of Pike Place Roast a week.

"Here I'm part of the establishment . . . like Norm in Cheers," he says.

This month, Jones' star shines even brighter: He's headlining a one-man art show on the walls of the coffee shop that saved him.

Charging devices and a soul

"Homelessness was a temporary situation, not my status," Jones told me. "Some people can't help it, but I kept clean, I had nice clothes."

The 58-year-old Camden native said he spent 18 years in the military and worked as an illustrator. He had a dog and an apartment but lost both. An only child, he suffered deeply the deaths of his father and an infant daughter.

"My phobias began to take a toll. At any given time, I'd think a bus could come smash me. I feared confrontation. I thought people were looking at me like I was a mutant."

After seeking help from the Veterans Administration and Broad Street Ministries, Jones was found to have post-traumatic stress disorder and social anxiety. But still, he had no fixed address beyond his spot at Starbucks.

"In the morning, I walk down here and charge my phone and keyboard," Jones recalled, pointing to the electrical outlet that first attracted him.