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WILKES-BARRE — Local contractor Jim Casey is combining his passions for preserving historic structures and getting people off drugs and alcohol in one large-scale project.
Investing his own funds, Casey is opening the Vulcan Recovery drug and alcohol treatment center in the former Pepsi warehouse on Hill Street off Wilkes-Barre Boulevard, which is set to start accepting up to 50 men for rehabilitation in April.
He’s also restoring an attached four-story structure that was built in 1925 by the Williams Bakery. He eventually plans to seek zoning approval to open a separate treatment facility for women in that building and to increase the number of male residents on the former warehouse side to 100.
The two connected concrete block warehouses were added in the 1970s and ’80s, he said.
Casey purchased the property from New York-based Bottling Group for $350,000 in 2017 and estimates he will end up pumping millions of dollars into the venture.
“I don’t know how I got here, but I’m just following my heart,” the 71-year-old city man said.
Looking back
A Wilkes-Barre native, Casey spent 25 years working all over the country through the International Association of Bridge, Structural, Ornamental and Reinforcing Iron Workers union.
Choosing to return to the area, he bought and fixed up the “worst house on the block” — an 1875 Victorian in the city — and then continued buying and renovating properties.
His mission to help those with substance use disorder evolved from his decision to acquire a troubled South Main Street building in 1999. Drug dealing and other illicit activity had prompted 160 police calls to the property that year, he said.
He turned around the structure, and the state-licensed, 50-bed, halfway house he established there — the James A. Casey House — has helped hundreds of men stay clean and earned praise and respect from many, he said.
Casey named his new Hill Street treatment center as a tribute to Vulcan Iron Works, a massive operation that once manufactured train engines nearby in the city.
“There were factories here steaming and full of all kinds of things,” he said as he took in the view from a rooftop perch at the former bakery last week. “This was such an industrial area.”
From his sweeping vantage point, he pointed to a parcel that once housed the Hazard Wire Rope Co. His family had horses when he was young, and they would visit the business to obtain wood shavings for their horse stalls that had been left from the company’s production of wooden wire holders.
“I remember that as a boy,” he said, spotting another building once occupied by a cigar factory.
Inside his former bakery, he marvels at the “incredible” concrete construction of the structure that has been mostly unused for decades.
Countless tons of flour and other ingredients had been hauled up on the elevator and hoisted to prep areas before being lowered through floor openings to bake in ovens below, he said.
According to a 1925 newspaper article about the new “home of Williams ‘Holsum’ Bread,” the plant cost $350,000 to construct and outfit because it contained the latest machine innovations, preventing the dough and ingredients from coming into contact with the “human hand.”
“When completed it will not only be one of the most modern bakeries in the United States, but it will also be one of the most interesting, as it will embody many new features heretofore unknown in the baking industry,” another 1924 article said.
While renovating aging structures can be challenging and more costly, Casey said he believes these buildings add character and should remain part of the landscape.
“If you have an old building, let’s not tear it down. Let’s give it new life,” he said.
Transformation
The four-story structure is loaded with massive, multi-paned windows that will be replaced with new ones manufactured locally, he said.
Blocking up most windows would be cheaper and eliminate the need to compensate for the effects off too much sun and heat loss, but Casey said he also believes the views and light are important for the women he hopes will be staying there in the future.
“Mental health and light go together. We are of nature,” Casey said.
His son, Shane, who is handling development design, said the windows also are an important part of the building’s look that he does not want to change.
In addition to the construction business, the family has real estate and property management companies, and Casey’s son John, also is involved in the business.
Casey added a second floor within the warehouse section because the ceilings were 25 feet high. The space has been filled with a honeycomb of rooms needed for the treatment facility. Garage door spaces once carved out for delivery trucks now hold large windows.
The complex has an electrical system “that is to be admired” and a high-efficiency heating and cooling system, Casey said.
A blue and orange color scheme was selected, he said. Work on the bakery building windows and façade should be completed this year, allowing interior work on that portion to begin next winter, he said.
“It will really stand out,” Casey said of the exterior work, especially when it is someday all lit up inside.
Addiction treatment
Although Casey speaks at great length about his views on helping people stay sober, he sums up his approach as “peace education.”
“We are looking to allow people to be at peace with themselves. You have to fix the soul,” he said.
With 50 residents, the facility will have a staff of around 30, although more will be added if zoning expansion is approved, he said.
Vulcan Recovery will accept Medical Assistance, unlike some treatment centers that only take private insurance or private pay, he said.
He started with a facility for men because he believes many women will require a different range of specialized therapies, largely due to struggles with abuse. He wants to keep the men and women separate because he worries residents would be distracted by the opposite sex when he wants them to be focused inward.
Casey had tried to purchase and fix up the county’s vacant juvenile detention center in the city to create a long-term residential program for females in recovery, but a county council majority rejected that proposal in 2016, citing security concerns due to the building’s proximity to the Water Street prison.
The demand for treatment beds is high with the opioid epidemic, he said. However, he thanked his family for supporting his endeavor, saying he is still taking a risk spending so much on the project.
Speaking often of his zest for life and desire to lift up others, Casey chuckled recalling how some of his classmates from St. Mary’s High School in Wilkes-Barre still affectionately say he’s crazy.
“To jump into this — a sane man — you’d have to be crazy,” he said.
