from the bleachers to a home of his own: Bill’s Story
“When it came to baseball and exercise with my coaches… I’m not going to be modest here; I was good.”
Bill has always measured his life in innings and seasons. Growing up in Burrillville, he was a proud Bronco with a powerful left arm—good enough to earn a tryout with the Yankees in Ft. Lauderdale. Like many Rhode Islanders, his love of sports began in childhood and never let go.
But while his arm was strong, his lungs were not.
“They let me slack off a little when it came to running, so I wouldn’t get out of breath and stuff. I had asthma as a young, young boy.”
As Bill grew older, things got worse. He took a job making aircraft parts, working every day with harsh chemicals.
“I worked with cyanide, hydrochloric acid, boric acid… that’s when my lungs, I think…” he remembers. “My nose would be leaking like a faucet. I was having a hard time breathing.”
When he finally saw a doctor at Rhode Island Hospital, the damage was obvious.
“The doctor goes up my nose with this instrument… then he slams the door loudly and comes back. He says, ‘I’m going to ask you something. How long you been doing cocaine?’
I went right to his face: ‘I don’t do drugs.’
Next question: ‘What do you do for work?’
I work with cyanide, phleboric acid, hydrochloric acid…’
‘That explains it.’
He said, ‘See your nose, right here? You have a thin, narrow bone divider for your nostrils. You’re in the midst right now of burning a hole through that bone.’
Bill had surgery and received a settlement, but his lungs never fully recovered. Then, in 2009, a massive layoff cost him his job. Without a steady income, his life began to unravel.
For more than eight years, Bill was unhoused.
“I had about 10 or 12 different spots. I knew it was going to rain—nobody knows the forecast better than me, that’s true. So I had a couple of spots with overhangs. But then it got to the point where I was just sleeping out in it. And that’s why I think this COPD came in—with all the inclement weather, the winter, the summer, the heat, humidity, sleeping out.”
Bill was getting older, weaker, and more out of breath. The long nights outside were catching up with him.
That’s when House of Hope stepped in.
It was his House of Hope case manager, Christina, who finally helped him get answers—and a path forward.
“I found out about my COPD with Christina taking me to doctor’s appointments—Rhode Island Hospital, here and there, running all these tests on me, stress tests, and all this stuff.
And I guess they concluded, ‘Mr. Labree, you’re out of breath now.’
I said, ‘Gee, I think I’m dying. You’re supposed to be helping me, right?’ Christina was at my side, chuckling at my response.”
With support from House of Hope, Bill received his COPD diagnosis, the necessary medical care, and assistance in securing disability benefits. But most importantly, he got something else back:
A home.
Today, Bill lives in a one-bedroom apartment in Woonsocket. After years of sleeping outside, he finally has warmth, safety, and space that’s his.
His home tells his story: Steelers and Celtics gear on the walls, coffee table books about Bobby Orr and Ted Williams, and a 26-inch TV—his window to every game.
“Hockey started training camp, and then in November basketball starts—oh yeah, I’m glued to that TV,” he says with a grin.
Like every good sports fan, Bill knows no one wins alone.
He talks about House of Hope the way he talks about a great team—steadfast, there when it counts, doing the small things that change the score.
His only regret?
“Don’t wait as long as I did for help. It’s out there. Because it’ll catch up with you—the elements, sleeping outside and everything else. Get some help. It’s out there for you.”