Hunger Is Not a Disease

The Monthly Food Delivery at the Good Neighbor Food Pantry

 

reformed church“It is not necessary to advertise food to hungry people, fuel to cold people, or houses to the homeless.” – John Kenneth Galbraith
Once we began offering a three-day supply of food to every person in every household represented in the shopping line, the supply chain began to organize itself.
Usually, on the third Tuesday of every month, our shipment arrived at the Hannaford’s parking lot in the Kingston Plaza Shopping Center. We had a standing 9:15 a.m. offloading appointment.
On this day, I felt free. The best day of the month was here – Delivery Day! I spent all the week before preparing for this morning. I called the Food Bank every day last week ordering thousands of pounds of food.
Bobbie Blitzer called the delivery caravan members beginning the week before and reminded them to meet in the parking lot outside Hannaford’s.
The caravan team gathered in the parking lot of the shipment delivery day and waited for the truck from the Food Bank of Northeastern New York to offload our shipment which was packed the Friday before on its own pallets. The Food Bank truck drivers and the pantry caravan crew were a dedicated group of individuals who brought the food over every month regardless of the weather – rain, sleet, snow, ice, 100 degree heat, etc.
The empty storeroom was neatened up to receive the fresh load of food.
Now, at last, the food was on its way. I always got excited. Everything that could have been done to get ready for the shipment was done.
We’re ready! They’re coming!
In the very beginning when we first started ordering food monthly, the order weighed 2,000 pounds or so and we felt we had ordered all the food in the whole world. It wasn’t long until 10,000 to 12,000 pounds or so was expected every month. 16,000 pounds was considered a very large order.
Depending on what was in the order, it could seem to be much larger than it was. The result was that occasionally, several of the volunteers returned to Kingston a second time on delivery day.
On delivery day, the building committee allowed me to arrive at the pantry at 8 a.m. instead of the usual 9:00 a.m. Tuesday arrival. I used this time to make necessary last minute changes in the storeroom before the caravan rolled in.
The Hudson Correctional Team usually arrived a little before 9:00 in a dark green van. They went directly to the storeroom and assessed the situation.
Once the caravan rolled in, organized chaos reigned supreme. Go team!
Before coming to the pantry, I stopped at Woodstock Meats for six of their wonderful sandwiches, a large bag of potato chips, a large box of cookies, 6 apples, and a large coke for the men coming over from the Hudson Correctional facility.
Everyone agreed the room couldn’t hold 10,000 pounds of food. But what were we to do? We only got one delivery a month and we were making weekly trips for produce and Friday trips for canned goods. I gritted my teeth, ordered what I could get, and let the men shake their heads. Occasionally Mike Lourenso lost his temper over the amount of food coming in. I just took it. We needed the food. We had the line of credit for it. Experience with the Food Bank taught me that I needed to “strike while the iron was hot” if there was food I needed. Most of the Food Bank stock came from donations and nobody ever knew what next month’s food supply might offer. This was especially true of all USDA products as well as soup, peanut butter, water, bleach, diapers, toilet paper, coffee, surplus baked goods, cereal.
At one point I asked Peggy Johnson to do the ordering. She probably would have been better at this than I, but Mike got so angry at her that I took the job away from her. I couldn’t let anyone else take this anger. After all, I was the coordinator. The buck stopped at my desk.
I loved every one of the Hudson Correctional men. They stacked the food to the ceiling, performing stocking miracles every month. And, what’s more, they did it happily. The guys cheerfully loaded the food in the room until every last box was taken care of. Their correctional officer was a man I totally adored. He was good with them, good with the pantry volunteers, and good with the Anderson guys.
Regular volunteers came to the pantry on delivery day about 8:30 to help stock shelves. Nathan drove The Anderson Center for Autism van over with his crew.
The little pantry was stuffed to the rafters with volunteers stocking the shelves as quickly as possible. Bobbie Blitzer was the Delivery Day room supervisor. Regulars included Leticia when she wasn’t helping with the take outs, Tony Cannistra and Robin Dougherty in addition to people walking in to help.
Peggy Johnson came early on delivery day also. The hallway was a total disaster on delivery day because we had extra volunteers, more than 10,000 pounds of food coming down the hall and we had take out volunteers packing bags…all in the same hallway space at the same time.
While Peggy lined the walls with cardboard, put out the tables, and set the take out bags under the tables, Barry showed up with his Jeep stuffed with boxes of beautiful fresh produce, baked goods and bread from the Hurley Ridge Market. At this point, Peggy, Prasida, Jamie, Laura, Leticia, and Marvalene began packing the take out bags.
“First truck is taking off, Thurman. Expect them in 10-15 minutes.”
Music to my ears!
When I heard those words, I corralled the Hudson guys out front with carts and we waited for the caravan to arrive.
As the first truck arrived, I stationed myself just inside the door of the building.
“Put four boxes in the pantry and wheel the rest in the storeroom.”
“Thanks. Put all of this in the pantry.”
“Keep the line moving guys. Thanks. What’s in those boxes now?”
“Have we got any more room in the pantry for this?”
This banter went on for an hour or so as people jammed the hallway pushing hand carts to the storeroom and the pantry.
Volunteers stocked shelves.
Volunteers filled bags for takeout packages going to homebound households.
Volunteers broke down hundreds of boxes.
We never had an accident in all this organized chaos. Chalk that up to a continuation of miracles.
Then, about 11:00, everything came together.
The pantry would be so full that not one more can, box, or bag could be added.
The last truck carrying food over from Kingston pulled away from the pantry entrance empty, all the food offloaded and taken to the storeroom, or pantry. Frozen foods went to the freezers in the barn.
The Anderson team filled their van with takeout bags and drove away to make deliveries to homebound households.
Father Nicholas and his crew drove away with their van filled with takeout bags.
Prasida, Laura, and Guy each drove away with vehicles filled with deliveries.
The Hudson Crew got their lunch box and took off for the prison.
I took a deep breath.
It was now time to prepare for the Tuesday lunch class/meeting where I offered a meal, the latest news, and a little bit of training and encouragement to the volunteers before Peggy and her crew started packing next week’s canned goods in the take out bags.
I made a second trip to Woodstock Meats for sandwiches for the volunteers. Orders always included roast beef sandwichess (the number three special), ham and cheese, egg salad, and the Italian combo. Every sandwich came on Deising’s Kaiser rolls delivered to Woodstock Meats each morning from Kingston. The lettuce, tomatoes, and onions used all came from local farms.
Woodstock Meats was owned by members of the Christofora family. This family also owned Woodstock Hardware and the Laundromat. It’s my belief that they built the Laundromat less because they wanted to own another business than because they finally realized that if they didn’t do it no one would and then Woodstock wouldn’t have a Laundromat at all.
The Christofora family was good to many people in Woodstock. For example, when the pantry was a fledgling, they offered a sign special on the fence around the ball club. I felt our pantry needed this sign. I was in the process of getting the purchase of the sign approved by the board to meet the deadline when Jim Dougherty started leaping around that we couldn’t do it. When I told Kevin Cristofora we had to back out of the deal, he didn’t even skip a beat. He just gave the pantry a free sign and hosted us at food drives at the Little League Ball Games throughout the summer. For me, that was class.
Our pantry needed to be in the lineup on the fence for inclusion purposes. We were outsiders in the community for many of the people and this was a chance for us to be a little less outside. Kevin made it happen. (The food drives didn’t hurt one bit, either.)
Of course, all this fresh food offered delicious aromas. Woodstock Meats baked its roast beef on the premises and our noses knew the difference. The pickles on the sandwiches were all locally made as were the cheeses.
There was usually a bag of potato chips thrown in. Everyone had cold drinks except Leticia, who liked a fresh coffee from Woodstock Meats.
Sometimes we’d have a cake if someone fessed up to a birthday. When that happened, Barry went to Deising’s Bakery in Kingston and ordered a real birthday cake with raspberry filling, real butter cream frosting, and flowers to decorate the top of the cake.
As often as I took this order, I was never, never, never able to order the right amount of food. We either had a sandwich left over or people had to share.
There’s an art to ordering sandwiches from Woodstock Meats.
None of the food eaten by the volunteers in the pantry came from the Food Bank, or was donated by a grocery store or other generous donor to our pantry. Food Bank guidelines forbade such activities. I made a point of having everyone know where the food came from so there would be no question of the origin.
Besides, the best sandwiches in town came from Woodstock Meats. We didn’t have plates, glasses, fancy napkins, or chairs. But, we had the best food Woodstock had to offer. And, there’s nothing like eating in a refrigerator. In the summer, we set the air conditioner at 60, the lowest setting to keep the produce fresh. In the winter, we just didn’t have any heat.
We all ate the delicious food while I offered a few encouraging words.
“We broke an attendance record again last week.”
“They’re cutting food stamps again so more people will be coming next month.”
“We’ve got to do something about the cardboard. The building committee is really unhappy about the cardboard in the hallway. Can someone help pick up the cardboard and put it in Vanessa whenever it appears to be piling up?”
“We’re really short of items of dignity. There’s no shampoo, deodorant, or toothpaste in the closet. Peggy, can you call a church and see if you can get a drive going?”
“What food do we have in the barn?”
“We’ve got a benefit concert coming up next month. Is anyone volunteering at this event?”
“Thurman, we’ve got to start packing the take outs. Can you cut this short?”
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Peace and food for all.
This is the only post for this week. I’m spending the remainder of this week on special pantry activities. I hope to join you again with blogs on Friday.
Thurman Greco