Before the museums open and before the carriage wheels begin rolling over brick, a man is already awake in one of Savannah’s historic squares. The air is thick with coastal humidity and moss hangs heavy in the trees. The city is not yet awake with tourists.

He folds his blanket carefully. Not because anyone is watching. But because it is his. It may be the only thing he can still call his own. In a few hours, tourists will pass that same bench. Some will glance. Some will look away. Most will never know his name.

That is where "Square One" begins. Not with a strategy. With a name.

Trinity United Methodist Church sits between two of Savannah’s most visited museums. The sanctuary is beautiful: large open glass windows, polished wood, the kind of space that draws your eyes upward. But step outside, and the sacred looks different.