For Wyomingites Facing Trauma And Addiction, There’s Much To Be Thankful For Here

CASPER — No one said life was meant to be easy. 

But did it need to be this hard, wondered Crystal Neal, collapsing in grief at the news of her fiancé's death in 2023.

He’d veered into oncoming traffic after an arrow of sunlight momentarily blinded him on a morning commute in rural Arkansas.

That loss was only the beginning in a string of tragic-luck incidents that would find Neal homeless and alone in Wyoming within a year’s time.

A week to the day after her fiancé passed, her farm home and possessions were reduced to ashes in an arson fire, she said. 

Then she was hospitalized after being thrown as a passenger from a motorcycle, which collided with a sedan that failed to yield, leaving her with a dozen broken ribs and lightning bolt of tissue damage down her leg.

“It took me a few months to recuperate to the point that I could even get up, move around and not hurt so much,” she said.

‘I Was Yelling At God’

With the insurance settlement, she bought a fixer-upper in Harris, Arkansas. 

It was the place she felt she could finally get her bearings and start again. But fate had other ideas, because months later, the first tornado to ever touch ground in the town of Harris crossed right over her property.

She stayed elsewhere on the night of the tornado, but a part of her wished she’d have stayed put and met the same end as her home.

What had she to live for now, Neal said, by this time feeling as if a cruel cosmic target were strapped to her back.

“I was finally going to rebuild my life, then Mother Nature just wound up again. It’s a feeling I can't explain,” she said, eyes welling up with emotion. "You might see people on TV losing everything, but you can’t imagine how that actually feels until you go through it yourself.” 

Neal then described how she crumpled to the ground at the sight of the flattened home and totalled RV. 

“I fell on my hands and knees, and then I cried and screamed. I was yelling at God, like, ‘What do you want from me? What else are you going to take from me? You can't take anything else away from me because you've already taken everything!’” she said.

Neal was wrong. There was still more to take.

Her grief compounded, and she began self-medicating with alcohol, consuming up to two fifths of Fireball Whiskey each day. Driving intoxicated in 2024, she totaled her last tangible asset, a Chevy Tahoe.

“I was at that point I was just like, ‘OK, I'm done, I give up,'” she said.

Somehow, she kept finding reasons to hope.

‘What Planet Have I Landed On?’

At the end of a devastating 2023 with little to lose, Neal took a risk and joined a friend on a one-way trip to Wyoming.

He’d convinced her it was a place they could each begin again. 

Almost as soon as they pulled across the Natrona County line, however, her chaperone was arrested on outstanding warrants related to motor vehicle insurance.

“Now my friend is in jail. I don’t know anyone here. I don’t even know where I'm at. I was scared,” Neal said.

She recalled something her friend said about a place called “The Mission,” and that it was known for helping people who were down on their luck. 

Using the internet at a Motel 6 in Casper, she wrote down the address, and with the sum of her possessions in a duffle bag and backpack, she lugged herself across town to the Wyoming Rescue Mission. She’s been here since.

Neal says joining the Mission’s recovery program has changed her life for the better. 

She explained feeling a sense of culture shock for how welcomely the community took her in.

“I have never met more friendly people than I have here. Period. I actually asked myself, 'What planet have I landed on?' Because where I’m from, they're not that nice, people look up their nose at you. And there is no help because they have no resources,” she said of her Arkansas upbringing.

It's for these reasons that this particular week feels so special.

Neal is reflecting in the Mission’s mess hall ahead of its largest community event of the year — the annual Thanksgiving feast, which this year will serve a warm meal to close to 300 people in Casper. 

“I'm so grateful for everybody here — the volunteers, the staff, the members — because they all make you feel welcome. This is family,” Neal said.

The Menu

The smell of celery stuffing and warm croissants bursts from the kitchen and fills the mess hall. Wafts of steaming turkey and mashed potatoes come next. 

By noon Wednesday, when the Mission holds its annual Thanksgiving dinner, hundreds of guests are piled in to partake in a table of plenty.

Here, it’s not about Wednesday or Thursday, it’s about being thankful and sharing with neighbors — even those who are invisible to the mainstream most of the year.

At some tables, there’s a quality of reverence to the hour; they hold their faces near plates and reserve eye contact for food alone, making for a deeply savored experience. 

Elsewhere, members celebrate the meal with boisterousness and joy, flourishing cranberry-slathered croissants and laughing out loud between big bites of pumpkin pie. 

Uniformly, though, they enter with beaming smiles and leave with tryptophanically happy eyes. 

And all this for the cost of $2.38 a plate. 

“We’re able to do this because of donations and volunteers,” said Cheryl Hackett, director of development for the Mission. "What people don’t realize is that the Mission does all of this without government funding. It’s all because there are people who care about their community, and they’re willing to help.”

The Mission aims to forgo government funding to safeguard its ability to incorporate elements of Christian teachings into its program for recovery, Hackett said.

The programs have produced many success stories and inspired volunteers to stay involved.

“I love being here, because I see the transformation. Certainly not everyone can, but if one person can do a 180 in their life it's worth it,” said Amy Allaire, a longtime volunteer, who on this day is rushing around the kitchen.

“I know several people who’ve gone through the program and are just thriving and doing amazing,” she said. "For me, it is a huge blessing to be a tiny part of that."

Breaking The Cycle

For many here, recovery can mean breaking an intergenerational cycle of addiction while simultaneously overcoming trauma.

Such is the case for Jon Stephen Reel.

Raised in Tulsa, Oklahoma, Reel’s life was vexed from early on by a physically and verbally abusive stepfather. His stepfather, a Vietnam vet, suffered from belligerent alcoholism, creating a volatile homelife that primed Reel for substance abuse early. 

Suicide

His life took a precipitous turn for the worse at age 18 following the death by suicide of his younger brother, an incident he not only witnessed, but also took blame for.

More than three decades after the fact, he still remembers it well. 

That day, he was told by his parents to keep a close watch on his 14-year-old brother, and that he should not be allowed to leave the home. 

But against their wishes, Reel agreed to let his sibling visit a friend as long as he promised to return before their parents were off work. 

He didn’t return, so Reel went to collect him. 

Without knocking, he walked straight into the home where he knew him to find him. At nearly the exact instant Reel came through the door, his brother fired a round from a .22 revolver into his head.

“I walked in the front door, and right then he did it. I seen him pull the trigger,” Reel told Cowboy State Daily. “I don't think he wanted me to see it, but I maybe startled him.”

His parents blamed Reel for the suicide, which had the effect of alienating him and pushing him deeper into unhealthy habits.

He offered few details of the following three decades, but explained how he began his life as a Wyomingite in 2021 when he moved to Yellowstone National Park for a work opportunity at the Canyon Lodge.

He took the position at the urging of his then girlfriend, with whom he worked and lived only briefly before realizing he’d made a mistake.

“With her it was just too volatile. She was a violent alcoholic, resentful to the world, we couldn’t get along,” he said. 

Old Ways Die Hard

He left the lodge and took up residence at the Set Free Church in Riverton, which offered a discipleship program similar to the Mission’s. 

But he soon fell in with another volatile love interest, who drew him out of the Set Free program and back into his default life of substance abuse. 

Only weeks after leaving the program, he was charged with the felony possession of a handgun with unlawful intent. 

It was the outcome of a violent dispute with a male neighbor that began over accusations of a stolen cellphone and escalated to punches and blows from a crowbar.

“After he hit [my girlfriend and me with the crowbar] we went across the street, and got a pistol,” Reel said, adding that in hindsight he’s grateful the pistol never had a chance to be used. 

“By the time we came back across the street, the police were there on the loudspeaker telling everybody to come out of the house,” he said. 

Out of prison in 2023, he began a job at a Wendy’s fast food restaurant in Casper. By now his lifestyle had caught up with him physically. He underwent emergency hip replacement surgery, for which he is still threatened with medical bankruptcy.

'Totally Night And Day’

Just as he began resorting to alcohol for medical pain management, Reel ran into an acquaintance who told him about the Mission’s recovery program. 

The man’s energy was infectiously positive, Reel said, adding that it was the energy he wanted for himself.

Reel says since joining the Mission’s recovery program his life has improved by night-and-day proportions.

“I'd be lying if I told you I didn't think about drinking and drugging on a daily basis, but when I'm around like-minded people that want to live a better life, walk with the Lord, my life is totally night and day compared to what it is when I'm not with those people,” Reel said, adding that since joining the program he’s quit cigarettes and remained sober.

Amid Wednesday's Thanksgiving atmosphere, Reel is feeling doubly grateful for this community.

“I'm mostly just thankful to feel welcomed and at home, to feel loved,” he said, before adding that gratitude can also be indulgent.

“I am really grateful for that pecan pie. I’m excited for that.

Contact Zakary Sonntage at zakary@cowboystatedaily.com

Zakary Sonntag can be reached at zakary@cowboystatedaily.com.