Hunger Is Not a Disease

Exploring the Spirituality of Hunger in America – New Beginnings Part 1

Part 1

I began this memoir before I even knew it.  On the first day I worked in the basement food pantry, I sat with Mary, a member of St. Gregory’s Episcopal Church and the head of the alter society.  We greeted a couple dozen hungry people.  Mostly single homeless men, there were a few of Woodstock’s famous colorful characters included in the mix that day.

Throughout my career in the pantry, the most colorful of the colorful was Grandpa Woodstock who liked to bring his bride, Lady Estar into the pantry to shop.  The two of them went around the room choosing from peanut butter, cereal, tuna fish, and soup.  While this happened, he entertained us gushing enthusiastically.

“My, how beautiful you look today!”  I fell for his spiel every pantry day.  Those words melted my heart.  The most professional of the street actors, he knew how to make us each feel special when he flashed his peace sign and posed for photographs.  Grandpa knew how to flash that peace sign, whip out his postcards to sell, and sound off his horn “toot toot”.  I sometimes thought he spent a few afternoons posing in front of a mirror to figure out how to get the best response from tourists.

Grandpa Woodstock and Lady Estar were most photogenic with their long, flowing silver hair.  Their lovely matching beards only emphasized floral print silk skirts and kimonos.  Their toenails were painted matching colors and their Teva sandals matched.

None of Woodstock’s rich and famous got so many requests for autographs and photographs.  They simply couldn’t compete with his show off tricks.

After all, Grandpa entertained us all with street theater at its finest.  So what if he didn’t mean a word of it?  We all enjoyed being sucked into the show!

Thank you for reading this article.  Please refer it to your preferred social media network.

Thurman Greco

Grandpa Woodstock

I’LL NEVER KNOW WHY THEY THREW HIM IN THE SLAM LAST WEEK.  I MEAN…WHY NOW?

Father Woodstock, Grandpa Woodstock, or whatever you called him, showed up here almost 20 years ago.  The story goes that he was homeless.  At least, that’s what he told me in the pantry one day.  “I’m the luckiest man in the world Thurman.  I lived a homeless life all these years until I found the lovely Lady Estar.  And, here I am now, married to a beautiful woman with 3 houses.”

Father Woodstock, Lady Estar, and their beloved dog Hector, visited the pantry every Wednesday afternoon right according to schedule.  Hector waited outside the door in the colorful cart Father Woodstock had made for Lady Estar.  Hector had a special little seat in the back of the cart.  As far as I know, he never tried to jump out.

The only time they missed a pantry afternoon was when they took the bus somewhere and went on a vacation to get out of the heat  in Woodstock.  Maybe THAT has something to do with why he was arrested.  He and Lady Estar didn’t go anywhere this August.  Our summer this year was just too cool and too wonderful.

BUT, THAT’S GETTING AHEAD OF THE STORY.

Father Woodstock came to town and became the most colorful of the colorful.  Everyone loves him…especially every woman he comes in contact with.  I, personally, loved him more than the others when he came into the pantry carrying his walking stick with the horn attached.

“YOU LOOK LOVELY TODAY!” he always said with feeling as he  tooted the horn for emphasis.  “Toot.  Toot.”  My heart melted.  Because, in reality, working in the pantry was tough with  watchers counting the minutes, checking the hallway lines, complaining about the cardboard, and me feeding the unworthy hungry.  For the few minutes that Father Woodstock came in the pantry to shop, none of it mattered.

LONGTIME RESIDENTS RECALL THAT FATHER WOODSTOCK PACKED UP HIS WORLDLY POSSESSIONS AND TOOK OFF FOR BIXBY, ARIZONA EACH WINTER ON THE BUS.  Boy, that must have been a trip!  I can just see Father Woodstock now, entertaining everyone with stories, peace sign salutes, and telling all the women how beautiful they were.  I think I would’ve loved the trip.  There never would have been a dull moment, that’s for sure.  Toot.  Toot.

ABOUT FIVE YEARS AGO, FATHER WOODSTOCK AND LADY ESTAR FELL IN LOVE.  What a pair!  They’re perfect for each other.

As they wwere out in public,  he and Lady Estar were always  beautifully dressed.  They both wore silk…flowing silk skirts and beautiful silk kimonos.  They  had a nice selection of lovely silk jackets.  Their wardrobes consisted mostly of floral prints in their favorite color:  red.

BOTH FATHER WOODSTOCK AND LADY ESTAR WORE THEIR DRESSES AND SKIRTS LONG.  Their toenails were always painted.  They wore Teva sandals.  They both had long flowing silky silver hair and beards.

Father Woodstock liked to come to the small pantry weekly and choose foods he and Lady Estar could serve to the homeless people they entertained.  As he chose apples, oranges, carrots, he  commented to other women shoppers how beautiful they were.  “Toot.  Toot.”

THE MAN MAY NOT HAVE MEANT A WORD OF IT…HE PROBABLY DIDN’T MEAN A WORD OF IT.  Now that I think about it, Father Woodstock was probably the best actor in town.  But, nobody cared.  For the moment, life was beautiful.

So, here we have a scene…a pattern…a reputation.  Father Woodstock conducted himself in a certain fashion all these years in Woodstock.  Everyone knew him, residents and tourists alike.  He trained us all to smile when he came around.  He trained us to gather around and ooh and aah when he posed for photographs with a peace smile and sign.  “Toot.  Toot.”

IN HIS OWN WAY, FATHER WOODSTOCK WAS AN AMBASSADOR FOR THE TOWN OF WOODSTOCK.  People came from far corners of the globe as well as just one or two towns down to catch a glimpse of him, his colorful cart, and his peace sign.  In his own way, he brought  much money to Woodstock because when the people came to see him, they also bought a cup of coffee, a meal, a “find” at the flea market, a pair of shoes at Pegasus, or a necklace at Gwen’s Gems.

AND, NOW, HE’S IN JAIL IN LIEU OF $50,000 CASH OR $100,000 BOND BAIL.

So, if he’s been possessing and selling drugs, paraphernalia, and pharmaceutical equipment for the past twenty years, why did they wait until the full moon in August, 2014, to throw him in the slam?

Oh well, that’s Woodstock for you.

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Peace and food for all.

Thurman Greco