That was at the height of his alcoholism. The crutch he turned to at 13 after experiencing devastating childhood trauma that has seen him cycle in and out of homelessness for much of his adult life.

The now 51-year-old says at that time he barely recognised himself.

“Am I this alcoholic? Am I this person who wears a shirt and tie and works in an office? There was a point there that I didn’t even know who I was,” he says.

“I do now.”

Allen hasn’t beaten his demons completely – and says with honest insight that he might never be able to – but he is working on it and living a healthier and happier life, with more purpose.

A near-fatal heart attack four years ago jolted him to realise his mortality and start making some changes.

Today, much of his strength and joy comes from helping other marginalised people.

He’s been there and has a level of understanding many cannot.

“Because I’ve had so much help over the years, I’ve always said to myself when I’m in a position to do the same for others, I will,” Allen says.

Every Sunday, he now helps feed homeless and disadvantaged people in the city through the Sunday Night Tea program run by Pilgrim Uniting Church.

Some of those turning up for a hot meal – often their only one for the week – are fellow rough sleepers from his time on the streets.

“When they see me, because they know me as well, they feel comfortable,” Allen says.

“I’ve always had that connection to the city, even when I haven’t been homeless, I still come into the city and have that connection with people in Victoria Square.

“Over the years you build up those friendships and connections. A lot of the people who were on the streets years ago are still there now. You see the same faces.”

A proud father of three young adults, Allen is warm and articulate as he details his journey from the streets to helping others.

He explains that with homelessness, “everyone is there for different reasons, they’ve got a different story”, but, sadly, trauma is a common theme.

“You can normally tell when someone has traumas from childhood especially if you’ve been through that yourself – I see patterns in people that are the same as my patterns,” he says.

“It’s like a silent understanding as if to say, ‘I know what you’re going through. I know why you’re here but we don’t have to talk about it’.”

Allen doesn’t go into the details of his childhood trauma – “a story for another day” – but understands it’s what led him to drinking.

“I’ve struggled with alcohol since 13 and still do today,” he admits.

He’s had successful sober periods and is working to make that long term.

Over the years, he could hold down a job for a while. There have been many – in IT, as a financial officer, forklift driver, construction worker, Aboriginal educator, the list goes on – but his trauma would always resurface.

“I’ve gone into jobs hoping things would change but then after five, six months things will build up again inside me and then I will just crash again,” he says.

“And then I would find myself on the streets for four, five weeks, whatever, and just not caring about anything or anyone.

“And then I would get sick of that after a while, pick myself up again and then another job, and then the same thing again. And that’s been happening my whole life.”

He used to think “time would heal wounds” but has learned that is not so.

“Even today, this is 50 years later, it’s like it happened yesterday – I know now for sure it’s never going to go away,” he says.

Almost dying from a heart attack four years ago helped change his perspective and has given him a reason to try even harder.

“I know now that I could be gone tomorrow,” he says.

“I mean, I don’t like to think about it, but you can’t help it, especially when you’ve been there. I saw the light and everything. The thing that scares me the most is I could feel myself there.

“So I make the most of things.”

Allen Edwards volunteering at Orange Sky. Photo: Tony Lewis/InDaily

Making the most includes washing the clothes of people living on the streets, which he does during his second volunteer job, working with Orange Sky Australia.

“It’s a really good idea,” he says, of the free mobile laundry service for homeless people.

“While they’re waiting for their laundry, some people go off and come back when it’s done, but most stay and have a chat – that social interaction helps.”

For some – like one of his regulars on his weekly Monday shift – that human connection is perhaps more important than the clean clothes.

“She keeps apologising – ‘Sorry I’m babbling on, I know I’m going on’,” Allen says.

“I say, ‘Hey that’s all part of it, that’s why we’re here. If you want to talk about something, talk about it’.

“It’s about being that sounding board. Because a lot of homeless people, they don’t have someone to talk to. They don’t have someone just to sit down with them for 20 minutes, an hour, and have that conversation with them.

You’re making a difference – even if it’s just for this moment, just for this day

“So when they go to Orange Sky they have that. And they know they have that. They know they can go there and talk about anything and get things off their shoulders.”

Asked how it feels to be that sounding board, Allen says: “I love it.”

“It’s so rewarding and once again because I’ve been there I understand what they’re going through and so I know not all of their needs but I know some of their needs,” he says.

“And I know the things that they would enjoy and appreciate. And they don’t take any of it for granted.

“It’s rewarding for me and that’s why I got into this volunteering. I’ve always wanted to give something back. I’ve always been that way.”

Some of those he helps ask why he does it.

“I say, ‘Look, you’re smiling. When was the last time you smiled?’ Some of them don’t talk to other people for a whole week or find it hard to smile because of their situation,” he says.

“But when they sit down and talk to us it can be a whole different experience for them.

“You’re making a difference. Even if it’s just for this moment, just for this day. Otherwise this person might not have experienced that today, might not have smiled today.

“They might seem like little things to a lot of people but to homeless people and to people who are struggling, they are really, really big deals.”

Such connection, and care, is what has guided him.

Allen was helped off the streets by transitional housing service Carrington Cottages, first into temporary accommodation and then into a long-term home.

But the shelter alone would not have been enough without the support from a dedicated and kind group of service providers, who, even today, regularly check in to make sure he’s okay.

“I’ve still got that support network which has helped me a lot,” he says.

“I’ve got Karen from Carrington Cottages. Just a couple of months ago my fridge broke down and I called her and she’s so amazing. I called her and thought they might have had one in storage somewhere.

“And next morning I get a phone call from a furniture place asking if I will be home in the afternoon for delivery of a new fridge. I’m like, ‘really’?

“That’s how she is. There’s no one like her.”

He also attends a community-focused church service on Sunday mornings at Pilgrim Uniting Church – the same place he helps feed those in need – to which he was first introduced after performing a Welcome to Country there last year during Reconciliation Week.

“One of the lads called me back during the week and said, ‘Oh Al, if you wanna come back for a coffee or a yarn, you’re welcome to come back’,” he says.

“I just felt it was something that I needed at that time. Because they were so beautiful and welcoming, it just felt right when I walked in.

“I’m not sure if it’s the church or the community or both. It’s a beautiful old church. I absolutely love hearing the organ playing. We have a NAIDOC service there each year and one of the highlights of that is they play How Great Thou Art. They use the organ. Church full of people… brings a tear to the eye.”

As Allen continues on his path of recovery, seeing the benefit he can bring others is a powerful motivator.

“It sort of makes me feel a little bit obligated to be there,” he explains.

“It’s all part of that rewarding experience. You know you are there for a reason, you’re making a difference to someone. It might just be for a day and they might have a shit week after that but even just to have them smiling and laughing for a couple of hours, that’s better than nothing.

“You just want to be able to do it every day.”

Allen Edwards. Photo: Tony Lewis/InDaily

What’s next in Allen’s story?

“Oh it hasn’t finished yet,” he smiles, adding “there’s definitely hope”.

“I think for the moment, just giving back to the community is my main focus. I’m in that position now and I’m more than happy to continue doing that.

“I’ve received that help, now it’s my turn to give that help.”