The founder of Serenity Homes of Napa Valley, a drug and alcohol recovery program, is camped out on Silverado Trail this week, vowing not to eat until he can lift the threat of foreclosure to two of his group homes.

Johnny Apodaca, better known as Johnny A., hasn’t eaten since Monday morning when he downed eggs and hash browns at the Soscol Cafe. He said he won’t eat again until donations begin to flow.

Extreme circumstances require extreme actions, said Apodaca, who will subsist on a liquid diet of honey, lemon juice and water with a jolt of cayenne pepper.

Apodaca said he needs a minimum of $350,000 to rescue two homes in jeopardy. If he fails, a dozen men working on recovery could be out on the street, he said.

The hunger strike began at 9 a.m. Monday. Twenty-four hours later, Apodaca was feeling hunger pangs, but in good spirits.

He had set up shop in the planter strip in front of 1008 Evans Ave., next to Silverado Trail, surrounded by a stream of supporters, bobbing balloons and signs that urged motorists to aid Serenity Homes. “Recovery homes save lives,” one sign said.

At night, he’s sleeping in a tent in the front lawn. A local business donated the portable toilet in the driveway so Apodaca never has to leave the street frontage.

“For the hunger strike to be effective and to be believed, he has to be in the public eye,” said Kimberly Forbes, his business manager and fiancé.

Apodaca, a former meth addict, has devoted his life to helping people whose lives have unraveled due to drugs and alcohol. He began renting rooms to adults in recovery 12 years ago. In 2005, he formed Serenity Homes, a non-profit agency, to run clean and sober homes for men and women. Serenity has five homes in Napa, with a sixth in Hawaii.

Growth was fueled by the generosity of several property owners who leased houses at favorable rates and a soaring real estate market that allowed him to borrow equity from homes for expansion, Apodaca said.

Even in good times, he and Forbes could not afford to pay themselves a salary, Apodaca said. He worked construction jobs. She managed the Upvalley estate of Craig and Kathryn Hall, owners of Hall Winery.

Things began to fall apart when the real estate market went south, Apodaca said. Interest rates adjusted upward and a key backer wanted to take out her money. An operation that had been financially fragile was now in crisis, he said.

Bruce Eaton, a self-described recovering addict, walked up to make a donation. Seeing the signs telling of Serenity Homes’ plight, “my hair stood up,” he said.

Eaton gave Apodaca a big hug. He had never met Apodaca but knew of his reputation for good work, he said.

“The world is in shambles right now. We need this,” Eaton said. “This is God speaking. It’s beautiful.” He donated $7.

During the first 48 hours, donations totaled $30,000 as word of Serenity Homes’ plight spread, Apodaca said. “Things are happening. A guy put $100 in the bucket,” he said. Several people have made much larger donations.

Apodaca expects his hunger strike to last many days, if not weeks. “Thirty is a long way from 350. We’re going to be here a while,” he said.

Forbes said she tried to persuade Apodaca not to go on a hunger strike. “It’s a very drastic step,” she said.

But when her recent efforts to secure government and private grants failed, Forbes said she reluctantly consented. While her fund-raising may bear fruit, “it just wasn’t happening fast enough,” she said.

Forbes has arranged for a doctor to check Apodaca’s vital signs daily. A reasonably healthy 50-year-old man should be able to last weeks on a limited liquid diet without permanent injury, she said.

Judy Bickell, a local mortgage lender, has been one of Apodaca’s biggest supporters, leasing two residences to Serenity Homes and loaning $60,000 on a third. Her decision to get her money back contributed to Apodaca’s financial crisis.

Apodaca said he wasn’t blaming Bickell. “She’s been a financial hostage to this thing,” he said.

In an interview Tuesday, Bickell said she was trying to simplify her life so she could do other good deeds in the community. “I contributed and helped Serenity Homes. It’s time to pass the torch to someone else,” she said.

“I think he’s done a great job in the community,” Bickell said. “I thought it was a really great cause. Everybody deserves to get their lives back on track.”

Nancy Pridmore, a local Realtor, has been renting a home on A Street to Serenity Homes for years with no complaints. Apodaca is “one of the good guys” who has committed his life to making a difference, she said.

“He is truly, truly motivated. Believe me, he doesn’t make money on this. It’s about ‘help the other guy,’” she said.

Serenity Homes tried to get grants from the Gasser Foundation, Auction Napa Valley and Napa County Health and Human Services which administer tobacco settlement funds, Forbes said.

Grant applications included letters of support from social service agencies and families who have used the service. “Serenity Homes has been a vital part of our daughter’s recovery,” providing “the help and support she needs on a daily basis to reach her goals of leading a responsible and sober life,” a Napa family wrote.

Serenity was turned down in part because it didn’t have a long enough track record as a nonprofit and hadn’t followed the outcomes of the more than 400 men and women who have gone through the program over the past 12 years, Forbes said.

Serenity Homes will sharpen its grant writing, hoping to get funds to cover higher home lease rates and subsidize the $600 room rents of addicts who often arrive impoverished, she said.

That still leaves Serenity Homes with today’s crisis, with the home at 1008 Evans facing foreclosure Friday, Apodaca said.

“I really believe that one of the road blocks to our getting help is the stigma attached to the people getting help (from us),” Forbes said.

The program has housed a doctor, a lawyer, a winemaker and many others from the economic mainstream, Forbes said. “I don’t think people realize these are our family, our friends, our co-workers,” she said.

Given the wealth in the Napa Valley and the worldwide prominence of its wine industry, Apodoca said he can’t understand why services for people with addictions, including supportive clean and sober housing, are in short supply.

“I wonder why this valley doesn’t have the biggest, wonderfulest treatment facilities in the nation for people suffering from the alcohol that is produced here,” he said.

During Apodaca’s hunger strike, Bill Combest, a recovering addict who lives in a Serenity home, will be his personal assistant. He owes Johnny A. a lot, he said.

“I came to Johnny with a suitcase. That was it,” Combest said. “Now I have a beautiful room. I have my family back. I am employable now even though I have such a wreckage of a past.”

“If it weren’t for the stability of this place, I’d be back on the street again,” he said.

When people hear of Serenity Homes’ plight, they will help, Apodaca said. “There are some fantastic, spiritual people in this valley,” he said. “I just don’t think they’re aware of the need.”