Through the window, the volunteers see a man with a long white beard and a ripped denim work shirt moving toward the building. He is agitated, shuffling his feet, furrowing his brow, keeping his head down, but his eyes up. He comes most days, desperate for someone to listen as he copes with mental illness. The phone rings just as the man in the denim shirt opens the door. The woman who answers the phone immediately stiffens. “Hold on, sir,” she says into the receiver. “I’m worried about him. He’s in trouble.” She runs to ask the manager, Vicky Haden-Jones, for help.