Editor’s note: This story is part of a December series honoring outstanding La Jollans who have gone above and beyond to unselfishly help others. Do you know a good Samaritan whose efforts deserve to be shared? The Village News wants to hear your stories of La Jollans’ altruistic actions and noble endeavors. Please send bios and photos to [email protected]. When Teresa Figueredo Doyle was in her early twenties, she was in a severe car accident while driving on Park Boulevard downtown. Injured and trapped in her car, she described what happened next as nothing short of a miracle. Several young men “materialized out of the bushes,” helped her from her car and to a safe place under a tree, and went to a pay phone to call the police. “One of them even offered me the shirt off of his back to use as a pillow,” said the 51-year-old La Jollan. “They stayed with me until the police arrived, then they just melted back to wherever they had come from.” According to Doyle, the men who had helped her were homeless and had nothing, yet still felt compelled to help someone in need. That’s what she said struck her as miraculous. “We all have the ability to be of service to others,” she said. Doyle knows well the business of serving others. Her mother, Anita Figueredo, dedicated much of her life to helping those who most need, something Doyle said had a “profound effect” on her. In the 1950s, Anita Figueredo, a mother of nine and a surgeon with her own practice, read an article about a then-unknown nun who was helping sick and dying people in the streets of Calcutta. She was so moved by the story that she wrote a letter to the woman, sparking a lifelong correspondence and friendship with the tiny woman known as Mother Teresa. Figueredo felt driven to do similar work in her own corner of the world, and so, in 1982, along with two other women, she co-founded the nonprofit organization Friends of the Poor with the goal of helping a group of nuns who serve impoverished families in Tijuana. Her association with Mother Teresa influenced her so much that she would even name one of her daughters after her. According to colleagues, Doyle has lived up to her name. Jean Colarusso, one of the co-founders of Friends of the Poor, describes Doyle as “brave and compassionate.” Ten years ago, Doyle was a scientist doing research at the Salk Institute, though she says she was always drawn to the work her mother did. When her mother’s health began to fail, she stepped in at Friends of the Poor, performing administrative duties. As her role at the organization began to grow, it became clear that she would have to choose between her well-paying job and a job that paid only in goodwill. The decision, she said, was not difficult. She said the work she was doing at Friends of the Poor was “intensely gratifying,” and, with the support of her husband, she took an early retirement from science. Today, she is the chief financial officer of the organization. “I just felt it was the best choice for me,” she said. Friends of the Poor operates as a blanket organization wherein its four directors work independently on their own projects in various parts of the world. The organization allows Americans to donate funds to overseas non-profits and still receive tax refunds. According to Colarusso and Doyle, the organization has virtually no overhead because the directors pay for it out of pocket, and 98 percent of its donations go directly to those in need. When Doyle came on board, she picked up her mother’s personal project, the Casa de Los Pobres in Tijuana. Run by an order of Catholic nuns, the Casa provides medical care, food, clothing and social services to thousands of impoverished Mexicans. Doyle works closely with the Casa, raising funds and bringing supplies across the border. She spends most of her time working tirelessly to raise funds — about $14,000 per month — needed to run the psychiatric hospital the nuns founded 12 years ago. The hospital, located halfway between Ensenada and Tijuana, provides treatment services for Mexicans suffering from substance abuse or psychiatric illnesses. The hospital has beds for 18 patients at a time and has a staff of about 30. According to Doyle, those who receive treatment there would otherwise end up in jail, because there is nowhere else for them to go. “There are places where people can be warehoused, but not places where they can be healed,” she said. Doyle has found her task of raising money more difficult recently, she said. Rough economic times have tightened everyone’s purse strings, and mentally ill, impoverished Mexicans can be a tough sell. “I almost wish my primary focus was starving children,” she said, laughing. “They evoke so much sympathy. But what I have are these people that are the least wanted people around.” Sometimes Doyle has gone beyond the call of duty against the wishes of her friends. Despite pleas from her colleagues at Friends of the Poor, Doyle regularly delivers donated bread and clothing to locations in and around Tijuana, often risking harassment by Mexican customs officials. “She refuses to stop, in spite of the trouble,” Colarusso said. Once, when on a routine run down to the Casa, Doyle was stopped at the border, detained for six hours and fined $400 for carrying in donated contraband goods. She was told that the next time, she would lose her car. Doyle shrugs it off, saying she doesn’t give it much thought. “Every time I go down there, I think about it for about 10 seconds when I cross the border. Then I say a prayer every time I get through,” she said. “The [customs officials] are just following orders. Our work continues.”