Rico’s mission to ‘reach the unreachable’

By Micheal Rios, Tulalip News

For Rico Jones-Fernandez, serving his community has never been a job. It’s been a calling. From running his own grassroots needle exchange program to going door-to-door handing out NARCAN kits, the 37-year-old tribal member has been on the frontlines of the harm reduction movement for years

He’s also recognized throughout the Reservation for his endless advocacy that ultimately led to Tulalip enacting the Lois Luella Jones Law– a Good Samaritan measure protecting people who call 911 during an overdose.

Now, his calling has led him to a new chapter, becoming the coordinator of the Pallet Shelter. For those who aren’t aware, the Pallet Shelter is the Tribe’s 20-unit transitional housing site designed to give homeless tribal members a safe and dignified space in a community environment.

Located at 6304 19th Avenue NE, the Pallet Shelter community opened in early 2023 as part of Tulalip’ broader supportive housing strategy. The small, climate-controlled shelters (16 single units and 4 doubles) provide residents with privacy, security, and the stability needed to focus on recovery and rebuilding. The site also includes shared kitchen and laundry facilities, 24/7 security, and coordinated access to a broad range of mental health, substance use, and wellness services.

When it launched, Tulalip Chairwoman Teri Gobin described the Pallet Shelter as “the difference between life and death for some of our people.” Since opening, it’s been close to or at full capacity. The Pallet Shelter has proved, over and over again, to be a huge stepping stone for those seeking to rebuild their lives after experiencing homelessness and/or addiction.

Now, with Rico at the helm, the Shelter’s mission can expand into a space of harm reduction and healing that stems from empathy and years of experience.

Rico’s drive to help others began from heartbreak. Fifteen-years ago, his mother Lois Luella Jones died from a drug overdose. In her honor, Rico became a leading advocate for the Lois Luella Jones Law, which was formally adopted into Tulalip’s Good Samaritan ordinance in 2014. It protects those who call 911 during an overdose from arrest or prosecution. Placing higher value on saving lives than filing drug charges. 

“Losing my mom broke my heart,” Rico reflected. “There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t wonder what I could have done differently to save her. I don’t want anyone else to lose someone they love because they were afraid to ask for help or didn’t know what services are available.”

That spirit of service, rooted in compassion and implementable action, has guided Rico ever since. Long before his new position as Pallet Shelter coordinator, he worked tirelessly to reach the unreachable through proven harm reduction methods. He casually recalls exchanging hundreds of clean needles and distributing NARCAN kits, while checking in on people living in cars and tents in homeless encampments and under freeway overpasses. All without a police escort or State, County or Tulalip assistance.

“In order to reach the unreachable, you have to build trust. Plain and simple,” explained Rico. “If I had showed up with police or other emergency services, they’d be all standoffish or, worse yet, afraid they were going lose all their belongings and go to jail. But because I started with the needle exchange and caring about lowering risks of contracting and spreading Hepatitis-C and HIV, they trusted me when I came around later with NARCAN.

“I was building trust while advocating for their safety,” added Rico. “Letting them know that I care about them and their life, so much so that I’d come around however many times until they exchanged their dirty needles for clean ones and accepted the NARCAN because I meant what I said when I told them it could save their lives.”

That was nearly a decade ago. Long before it became common place for households and businesses to keep NARCAN on-hand to prevent overdose death.

Rico never waited for a title, funding, or staff. “Back then, all I had was my car, my phone, and my mom’s spirit pushing me. That was enough,” he said. “Now, working at the Pallet Shelter, I have access to more resources and have support from tribal departments, like the Recovery Resource Center, to develop harm reduction strategies and to create more partnerships with local health services.”

As coordinator, Rico’s focus is on bridging the Pallet Shelter’s resources with the trust he’s built over years of grassroots outreach. His leadership emphasizes harm reduction as a doorway to safety and healing rather than a barrier to housing. 

“At the Pallet Shelter, we meet people where they’re at,” Rico said. “If someone is struggling, that doesn’t mean we turn them away. It means we walk with them, one step at a time. Of course, the dream scenario is each resident getting clean. But that’s not the reality.

“Harm reduction means taking any step forward is a win,” he continued. “It means success can be anything from filling out job applications to cooking your own meals, to getting your driver’s license back to finding a recovery meeting that suits you. And, of course, it means being willing to go through treatment and get clean, but we have got to remember that you can’t just undo decades of addiction in a few months. 

“Everyone’s journey to recovery starts with a few steps forward, and I’m here to take those steps forward, side by side, with anyone willing.”