The First 48: How the Ride Home Program Helps People Face the Fear of Freedom
By Josh Pynoos
When someone is released from a California state prison, they’re handed $200 in gate money, a number that has remained unchanged since 1973.
Many people exiting prison have lost touch with their community and often don’t have someone to pick them up. Instead, they’re dropped off at the nearest bus station with no itinerary, no reentry guide, not even a printed map.
“We come from a life in institutions where people are assaulted, where there are riots, where you see people get stabbed and murdered,” said Moses Gallegos, who was released in 2014 after serving 19 years. “That first day, believe it or not, it is scarier than all of that for a lot of people. Because it’s free.”
It’s no surprise then, that without the proper support, over 40% of people end up back in prison.
ARC’s Ride Home Program (RHP) works to provide that support by offering free rides for people coming home from incarceration. Since its founding in 2017, RHP has become a major driver of change in the reentry space. And, as Program Coordinator, Moses is the one behind the wheel.
“Our mission is to make sure people are getting from their institution to the place they’ll be living with compassion, with care, and with an understanding driver,” Moses said. “What happens to you, and what you do, in the first 48 hours, sets the tone for everything moving forward.”
Since its inception, the program has expanded to serve a broader range of people across the state who need safe transportation home from prison. In 2024 alone, Ride Home drivers picked up 313 people upon their release from prison.
However, the program isn’t solely about transportation. While the core purpose is ensuring people safely get from point A to point B, the real journey begins with the mental and emotional shift from incarceration to the free world.
For many, those first moments of freedom can be the most challenging they’ll ever face. Gallegos knows this firsthand.
When he was released in May 2014, the Ride Home Program had not yet been established. His sister picked him up and drove him to a halfway house. He still remembers the fear and uncertainty of those first hours.
“I just worked my butt off to change who I am, what I’m about, and how I view society. But I remember asking myself, ‘Can you make it?’ Are you going to fail?”
He worked in construction after his release for over three years, but when the opportunity arose to help others coming home, Gallegos said yes without hesitation. He began picking up people who had been released from prison for the Ride Home Program.
By the following year, he had personally picked up 150 people.
He left his good-paying construction job and never looked back, “I get to do something I love. I get to help people. I get to play my little part in changing someone’s life.”
Today, Gallegos coordinates a statewide network of over 40 Ride Home drivers who are formerly incarcerated. Each trip includes more than just a ride. It provides mentorship and a person to help walk participants through the huge adjustment to the free world.
“The Ride Home driver is essentially their first life coach,” Gallegos said.
Many people use the ride to ask critical questions about housing, employment, and other reentry resources, as well as how to navigate the unfamiliar world outside.
For Gallegos, therapy is the most underutilized resource. He recommends it to everyone he picks up because it was essential to his journey out of prison.
“I figured, if you just did 19 years from the time you were a kid, you probably need some help. And it was probably one of the best things I ever did”, he said of himself engaging in therapy.
Still, he knows the stigma of therapy is strong for people coming out of prison.
But during long rides, Gallegos listens to stories of trauma, frayed relationships, lost time, and the complicated emotions that come with returning home. Sometimes, the vehicle becomes a makeshift therapist’s office, and he has honed his listening skills in these conversations.
“A lot of times during a ride, people tell you things they wouldn’t tell anyone else,” he said.
A typical Ride Home includes two core components: a shared meal and a shopping trip.
According to Gallegos, people often fantasize about their first meal for years. Burgers are popular. So is a big breakfast plate. The food is more than sustenance; it’s a reminder of the small pleasures the free world can bring.
Afterward, drivers take people shopping for clothes and essentials. The program provides an additional $200 for personal items, often the first civilian clothes a person has worn in decades.
But even a simple errand can feel overwhelming. Incarcerated people have not been in a store for many years and are conditioned to the harsh dynamics of a prison yard.
They are still adjusting to the ability to walk in the open without surveillance or a physical barrier.
“Shopping is very difficult for some people after 20, 30, 40 years,” Gallegos said. “Just interacting with people in a store can trigger anxiety or even panic attacks.”
Something as basic as a self-checkout machine can be jarring.
“We’ve introduced people to the self-pay system, and they were blown away. Some are waiting for a cop to appear.”
Gallegos and his team are there to guide them through these challenging moments and build their exposure and comfort, as they are in public for the first time in decades.
Recently, the Ride Home Program expanded once again. In partnership with California’s Office of Youth and Community Restoration, the program now supports young people being released from juvenile halls across the state and provides safe transport back to their families and communities.
On one recent trip, Gallegos picked up a young man from Sylmar Juvenile Hall. The young man said he wanted a burger, not just any burger, but one from a hole-in-the-wall joint he remembered from the neighborhood.
Gallegos smiled. He knew the place well; he had grown up in the same area. As they pulled up, he noticed it was right across the street from the very elementary school Gallegos had attended as a boy.
Sitting together over chili cheese fries, they talked about the road ahead and shared a quiet moment of celebration, looking forward to the young man’s journey still to come.
