Every conversation began the same way.
“Hey, friend.”
To someone hearing the words for the first time, they might have sounded ordinary.
To the women walking through the doors of Healing Housing in Nashville, they were anything but.
Those two words often came at one of the hardest moments of a person’s life. Many had recently completed treatment. Some had lost custody of their children. Others had nowhere else to go. Nearly all carried the weight of shame, uncertainty, and the fear that their past would always define them.
Morgan Baine had a way of making that weight feel lighter.
She greeted every woman with a smile, an open heart, and the quiet confidence that recovery was possible.
Not because she had read about it.
Because she had lived it.
Morgan first arrived at Healing Housing in 2018 as a woman rebuilding her own life. Recovery had given her a second chance, and she embraced it with everything she had. After graduating from the program, she remained connected to the organization that had helped her heal. When an opportunity to join the staff arose, Executive Director Tracey Levine knew exactly who she wanted to call.
Over the next several years, Morgan helped shape a program that would serve hundreds of women seeking refuge, stability, and hope. Levine would later describe her as the “heartbeat” of Healing Housing, a trusted guide for residents and staff alike, someone who always seemed to have the answer and who met challenges with compassion and determination.
For Morgan, recovery was never simply about putting down drugs or alcohol.
It was about rebuilding a life.
It meant helping women reconnect with their children, regain confidence, secure employment, and discover that their future could be greater than their past.
As a mother in long-term recovery herself, Morgan understood that women with children often faced obstacles that extended far beyond treatment. Safe recovery housing that welcomed families was limited. Parenting-focused recovery programs were scarce. Many mothers left treatment determined to change their lives only to encounter housing instability, transportation challenges, employment barriers, child welfare systems, and the stigma that too often surrounds substance use disorder.
She talked about those women often.
Not as statistics.
As people she knew by name.
She believed every mother deserved the opportunity to recover with dignity and every child deserved the opportunity to grow up with a healthy, stable parent.
That belief became her life’s work.
It also reflected a growing need throughout the region.
Across Tennessee, Kentucky, and West Virginia, state agencies have identified pregnant and parenting women as a priority population requiring specialized recovery support that extends well beyond clinical treatment. Recovery housing, peer support, transportation, parenting education, childcare, and long-term recovery services are recognized as important components of sustained recovery. Yet for many families, those resources remain difficult to find or simply do not exist in their communities.
Morgan understood that reality long before it appeared in statewide strategic plans.
She saw it every day.
She knew the names behind the numbers.
She celebrated the victories and carried the heartbreak of the setbacks.
To the women she served, Morgan was more than a program director.
She was often one of the first people who believed in them.
Friends and colleagues remember her ability to make people feel seen. Whether someone had been in recovery for years or had just arrived with everything they owned in a single bag, Morgan met them with kindness, encouragement, and the same familiar greeting.
“Hey, friend.”
It became more than a saying.
It became part of who she was.
On the morning of August 12, 2025, Morgan passed away unexpectedly from a fatal heart rhythm caused by previously undetected microscopic scarring in her heart.
She was just 32 years old.
Her death came only 81 days before the November 1 wedding she and her fiancé, Logan Terry, had been planning.
The loss was felt throughout the recovery community in Tennessee and beyond. The stories shared afterward reflected the reach of a life spent helping others: women Morgan had served, colleagues who had worked beside her, friends who had watched her own recovery grow, and people who had simply been encouraged by the way she lived.
In the months that followed, one question continued to surface among those who knew and loved her:
How do we continue the work Morgan was so passionate about?
The answer became the Hey Friend Initiative.
Launched August 12, 2026, one year to the day after Morgan’s passing, the initiative brings together two nonprofit organizations connected by a shared commitment to long-term recovery: Hope in the Hills, the nonprofit organization behind the Healing Appalachia music festival, and the Tennessee-based Keith Dixon Foundation.
The initiative was created not simply to honor Morgan, but to continue the work she believed still needed to be done.
At its center is HeyFriendInitiative.org, a free regional resource directory created to make it easier for parents in recovery and the people helping them to find the resources they need.
At launch, the directory includes more than 100 resources across Tennessee, Kentucky, and West Virginia, including recovery housing for women with children, parenting programs, treatment and recovery services, peer support, and other resources for parents navigating recovery from substance use disorder.
The directory was also designed to grow.
Providers and community organizations can submit additional resources, creating a living, community-driven tool that can expand as new programs become available and additional needs are identified.
Alongside the resource directory is an ambitious fundraising goal.
Through the Hey Friend Initiative, Hope in the Hills and the Keith Dixon Foundation are working to raise $250,000 for programs serving women with children and families in recovery across Middle Tennessee, Kentucky, and West Virginia.
A dedicated Hey Friend merchandise collection has also been created, with proceeds supporting the fundraising campaign and the programs it was established to benefit.
The goal is not simply to raise money.
It is to increase access.
To help create more safe places for mothers to recover.
To strengthen programs that understand substance use disorder affects entire families and that recovery can strengthen those families as well.
And to make it easier for the next mother searching for help to know where to turn.
The need for that work is reflected in public policy throughout the region.
The terminology varies from one state to another.
The underlying need does not.
Treatment can help someone begin recovery.
But recovery itself is built over time.
It is built through stable housing, meaningful relationships, employment, transportation, community, accountability, and the opportunity to rebuild what substance use disorder may have taken away.
For a mother, that can also mean rebuilding a family.
Morgan understood that.
She had lived recovery herself. She had watched other women fight for it. And she had spent years helping them build lives that once may have seemed impossible.
Recovery does not end when treatment ends.
It is built one safe place, one supportive relationship, one reunited family, and one day at a time.
Some people leave behind buildings.
Others leave behind organizations.
Morgan Baine left behind something even more enduring.
She left behind women who found hope when they thought they had none.
Families given another opportunity to heal.
Colleagues and friends who continue to carry forward the compassion she demonstrated every day.
And now, she leaves behind an initiative designed to help the next mother find the resources, support, and community she needs to begin again.
It carries the same words Morgan offered so naturally to the women she served:
“Hey, friend.”
For Morgan, they were never just a greeting.
They were a reminder that no one had to walk the road to recovery alone.