Hunger Is Not a Disease

Walmart and the Minimum Wage

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As the country’s largest employer, Walmart gets criticized for many “wrongs” not exclusive to itself.
Although retailers throughout our country only pay minimum wages, people act like Walmart is the only one. They pretend the other retailers pay over $10 per hour and include wonderful benefits like health care and retirement.
Wrong!
Most retailers pay what Walmart pays – maybe even a little less. In our own Woodstock area, retailers not only pay less, they often pay their sales employees off the books.
So, the recent news of Walmart and the minimum wage hourly rate increases to $9 per hour is an excuse to celebrate, if nothing else. Walmart is a trendsetter! Hopefully this move will motivate other retailers to do the same.
Those of us who work in pantries fantasize we’ll have fewer people in our lines. In some locales, I’m sure that may be true.
However, I harbor no fantasies. For one thing, the people in our pantry line are mostly senior citizens too old to work. For another, those young enough to hold down jobs work for companies who aren’t going to raise the wages.
Over the past few decades, we’ve created a food system for the poor. The more affluent in our country shop in super markets. Everyone else shops at the convenience store, pharmacy grocery aisle, the food pantry.
Because of the situation created in recent years by food deserts, the underemployed or unemployed poor struggle to get enough food to eat while also trying to get the right kinds of nutritious foods needed to stay healthy.
Over the years, food manufacturers, farmers, grocers, corporations, foundations, individuals, and the government work together to provide surplus food to feed those in need.
The goal: give food assistance to the hungry.
Since 2006, the need for emergency food has morphed into an ongoing need for food for people from all walks of life.
The new paradigm is to feed them nutritious food regularly because these people can no longer buy the food to feed themselves.
Many find themselves in this position for the first time in their lives. There are now men, women, and children needing assistance to alleviate hunger in every county in every state in the union, as well as the District of Columbia.
High unemployment/underemployment, increasing housing costs, rising poverty, the rising cost of fuel to heat apartments and homes, increasing transportation costs, and the escalating cost of food make emergency food assistance become supplemental food assistance.
Financial safety nets disappear as congress repeatedly cuts benefits.
Today’s pervasive hunger undermines our communities, schools, work force, and national security.
When people don’t have enough food to eat today, it’s impossible to plan for tomorrow. People with enough to eat work better and learn better. They can build a better life for themselves and their families.
This is what Walmart raising the minimum wage is all about.
Raising the minimum wage a few cents or dollars is not about solving the problems of poverty. It’s about feeding the hungry.
Thank you Walmart, and every other employer in our country who pays workers a living wage. You are to be commended. Hopefully this will start a trend toward employers everywhere paying living wages to workers.
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Peace and food for all.
Thurman Greco

SNAP and Seniors: Many just don’t get it.

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Please share this post with any and all seniors you may know.  Chances are they might be able to use the information…especially since 1 senior in 7 in our country doesn’t get enough to eat.   

Seniors are extremely reluctant to use SNAP, partly because of myths surrounding SNAP.

SNAP Myth #1:

Why apply for SNAP?  It’s not worth the hassle.  I may not even get much $$$.

SNAP Reality #1:

Most people get more than just a few dollars.  Some families receive over $100.  But, whatever you get – it all adds up,  Over time, you’re going to receive several hundred dollars annually.   This $ is yours.

Whether it’s $16 or $160 is not the issue here.  This is $$$ that you paid taxes with all these years.

Look at it this way:  If you get $16 in SNAP benefits, you can buy eggs, milk, bread, butter.  Every penny counts.

Whatever the amount, you are going to be eating better – staying healthier – and using tax dollars that you paid all these years.

SNAP Myth #2:

If I get SNAP, I’ll be taking away food benefits from others who may need them more such as young families with children.

SNAP Reality #2:

There are funds set aside for everyone who qualifies.  The funds are federal.  No one participating in the SNAP program will be taking away anything from anyone.  On the contrary, by using SNAP funds, you will be bringing dollars into your community.  You will be helping your town.

Many seniors qualify for SNAP and are not even aware of this benefit.

SNAP Myth #3:

I’ll have to have a face-to-face interview to get on the SNAP roster.

SNAP Reality #3:

Any senior who is ill, has transportation difficulties, has hardships due to living in a rural area, is experiencing prolonged severe weather,  or is under the care of another household member does not need to have a face-to-face interview.

In New York State, seniors can be interviewed by phone or with a scheduled home visit.

Basically, the issue here is trust.  Seniors sometimes do not trust the process and are afraid of it.  Filling out the application can be very challenging for those of us who have cognitive or physical limitations.

A further barrier is language.  Many seniors simply do not have the English language skills to apply for SNAP – and they know it.  There is another category here:  the senior who feels s/he lacks the skills and does not realize that there are professionals who speak the language who can help with the application process.

AND FINALLY

Hunger among seniors is at an epidemic level…especially in New York State.  SNAP offers access to a healthy diet which is extremely important for the overall health of seniors.

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Peace and food for all.

Thurman Greco

An Open Letter to Tomo Jacobson

 

Thanks so much for writing to Chuck Klosterman of the New York Times about dumpster diving.  I appreciate your stand that dumpster diving is moral.  I also like  your question about whether it is ethically wrong to dumpster dive.  I never thought much about the ethics of dumpster diving before.

As a food pantry coordinator, I interact with people every week who dumpster dive to feed themselves as well as their children, parents, and housemates.  We can’t explore the ethics of dumpster diving without exploring the ethics of allowing people in our country to go hungry because they can’t make enough $$$ at their jobs to buy food.

People who come to the Reservoir Food Pantry take a 3-day supply of food home to wherever and whatever that is each week.  The other 4 days, they’re on their own.

That means they can buy the food if they have a SNAP card and if they can get to a store selling food.  If they don’t have either the $$$ or a SNAP card, then they must get creative.  That involves:

Panhandling

Borrowing $$$ from friends, relatives, neighbors

Showing up at someone’s house (friend, relative, neighbor) at mealtime

Sending the children to someone’s house (friend, relative, neighbor) at mealtime

Stealing and (of  course),

Dumpster Diving.

In Woodstock, NY, where I live, a beloved neighbor named  Cassia Berman routinely went dumpster diving for greens (kale, chard, collards).  Cassia was on the library board and taught Qigung at the community center.  She never made a fortune, certainly not enough to buy organic produce at the Sunflower Natural Foods Market.

Cassia felt  good nutrition was her best defense against illness.  I was always grateful for Cassia’s attitude.  She brought class to the whole hunger scene.

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Peace and food for all.

Thurman Greco

Chris

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“Do you need volunteers?”  The young man speaking to me was a living, breathing dream for any pantry coordinator:

His hair wasn’t gray.  That meant he could probably lift.

He had a car.  That meant he could probably haul cardboard to the dump.

I wanted to pinch myself.  Was I dreaming?

“Sure, What do you have in mind?” I asked.

“Well, I can probably work one evening a week.  I’m ready to get started.  What needs to be done?”

After that, Chris showed up every Wednesday and did anything and everything that needed to be done:

mopping the floors.

folding down empty boxes and stuffing them in his jeep until he couldn’t get even one more in the vehicle.

Bringing case after case of canned goods from the storeroom to the pantry room.

Organizing  the storeroom.

CHRIS DIDN’T TALK TOO MUCH ABOUT HIS SITUATION.  Our culture has this $$$ taboo making it difficult for people in his situation to explain what the real problem is.  We’re all ready to bare our souls when discussing sex, crime, illness.  But we zip our lips over $$$.

Employers play the taboo card to the max.  If the average person in our country only knew how difficult it is for a person to live on a minimum wage, maybe the wages would increase.   Meanwhile, the $$$ taboo keeps people from knowing whether Walmart pays better than Target which may or may not pay better than McDonald’s.

MINIMUM WAGE WORKERS HAVE DIFFICULTY GETTING BENEFITS.   Overtime, retirement and health insurance are simply not available to most in the struggling class.

Housing poses the biggest obstacle for low wage workers.  Many simply cannot afford anything beyond housing and transportation.

Slowly, his story sort of revealed itself over the next few weeks.  His job in a big box store in Kingston was an hourly position with  neither enough hours or enough wages to buy both rent and food.

HE WAS EVERY WOMAN’S GRANDSON.  Peggy assembled his package for take out each week.

We all cheered when he came and were totally grateful for everything he did.  We loved Chris.  And, as with all things that are too good to be true, he left after a few months to work in another big box store offering more hours and a few more pennies each hour for pay.

Goodbye Chris, we love you – wherever you are.

SEVERAL MONTHS AGO, I WROTE IN A BLOG POST THAT I see the sidewalks of whatever town or city I’m in as nothing more than wards for the untreated mentally ill.

TODAY I WRITE THIS:  When I go in a big box store or chain restaurant, I  don’t see a person behind the vest or the colorful.  What is see, instead, is the collective low wage American worker living in a perpetual state of emergency.  Lunch consists of chips or a piece of bread.  Home is a car, van, or a sofa somewhere.  The loss of a day’s work means no groceries for the next…if  there is any money for food after paying the rent and transportation.

POVERTY IN AMERICA IS NOT A SUSTAINABLE CONDITION.

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Peace and food for all.

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

There Shouldn’t Even Be Pantries

There are sufficient resources in the world to ensure that no one, nowhere, at no time, should go hungry.  – Ed Asner

THE CROWD WAS HEAVY THAT AFTERNOON, WITH THE HALLS PACKED.

People had begun to line up two hours early to shop in the pantry.  Every poverty category was gathered outside the door:  artists, crazy poor, disabled poor, elderly poor, employed poor, disabled poor, generational poor, hardworking poor, homebound, homeless, ill poor, mentally ill poor, messed-up poor, musicians, poets, newly poor, resource poor, struggling poor, transient poor, underemployed poor, unemployed poor, veterans, Woodstock’s colorful characters, writers.  They got a three-day supply of food last week and by now it was all gone.

THE PANTRY ROOM OVERFLOWED WITH PRODUCE:  oranges, lemons, carrots, potatoes, onions, eggs, Bread Alone breads, Bella Pasta, packs of organic salad mixes, fresh herbs, mushrooms.  The list seemed endless.

The pantry opened promptly at 3:00 and by 3:02, there were four people already shopping in a line in the pantry room.

PRASIDA, RICH, GUY, TONY, AND ROBYN WERE AT THEIR STATIONS MOVING PEOPLE ALONG.

“Will the next two people in line please come into the pantry room now?”

“We’ve got room for another person here.”

“HEY TONY, HERE COMES ANOTHER BOX”.  I was pitching freshly emptied boxes to Tony about every 2-3 minutes.

“How”‘s it going?  Don’t forget to take a bag of carrots.  We were able to get enough for everyone to take a bag.”

“Wait, wait, wait.  What’s wrong?  You’re crying.  What happened?”

“Oh Thurman, I feel sooo ashamed.  I was at the head of the line.  Suddenly, a man walked in the door who wasn’t a shopper.  He came right up to the line and spoke to us all:  ‘There shouldn’t be any pantries.  None of you should even be here in this building.  All of you should go out and get jobs.’ “

“Thurman, you know I’m too old to work.  Nobody hires people in their 70’s.”

“Listen Beverly, don’t even think about it.  It was nothing.”

“OKAY EVERYONE, LET’S KEEP SHOPPING.” I SAID AS I WENT TO THE PANTRY DOOR AND CALLED TO GUY.

“What’s going on?”

” Thurman, a watcher came in and told everyone in the line that we should all go out and get jobs and that none of us should even be in the building.  Everyone’s upset.  But, we’re handling it.”

“Thanks’s Guy.”

“Here Tony, can you take a couple of extra boxes real fast?”

“Thanks.”

“WE CAN TAKE TWO MORE PEOPLE IN THE PANTRY.”

“Thanks for coming today.  Be sure and take all the bread and salad you want.  Don’t forget to go down to the barn for some frozen food.  We’ve got some good deals down there today.”

“Welcome to the pantry today.”

“Let’s keep the line moving now.”

“TONY, CAN YOU TAKE SOME MORE BOXES?”

On behalf of all the people shopping and volunteering in the Good Neighbor Food Pantry that afternoon, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading this blog/book.

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Peace and food for all.

Thurman Greco

The Wednesday Afternoon Farm Festival in Woodstock

In typical Woodstock fashion, the town fought over the farm festival for years before it finally happened.
FIGHTS LIKE THIS HAPPEN IN WOODSTOCK ALL THE TIME.   Every community improvement takes years of fighting before it becomes a reality. And, while this entertains many people, it holds up progress.
Those years of fighting represented  lost revenue for a town that really doesn’t have a lot of options for income.
Oh well, I’m getting off track here.
THE WEDNESDAY WOODSTOCK FARM FESTIVAL MEANT SOOO MUCH TO THE PANTRY.
But, not how you might think. Symbolism is important here. As people go down the path toward the pantry, they begin to lose their connection to the community. This happens mainly because they have no money to participate in  activities and they’re depressed, embarrassed, sad about being broke, sick, out of a job, going through foreclosure, etc. You put in the words here.
Every situation is different, but the process is the same for the people going down the path.
So, the pantry shoppers, for the most part, didn’t have the money to participate in the farm festival.
MIGLIORELLI FARMS OFFERED A SMALL MIRACLE AT THE END OF EACH MARKET AFTERNOON.   Several volunteers from the Good Neighbor Food Pantry were allowed on the grounds in the final few minutes of the market to load up a car with some of the veggies. We then took them back to the pantry and stacked them to distribute on Thursday.
WHAT A GIFT! Migliorelli Farms offered a real emotional boost to our many shoppers as well as delicious, nutritious food. Migliorelli  fed the body as well as the soul.
Now, the shoppers at least had a small connection to the farm market festival.
Until…one day a member of the Farmers Market Board of Directors called me up and pulled the plug. “You can’t have any more of the produce Thurman. People are not shopping at the market because they’re waiting until Thursday to come to the pantry to get the food free.”
“HOW CAN THIS BE? The pantry shoppers don’t have the money to shop at the farm festival. Have you seen the people who shop at the pantry?” I was shocked to hear such words from a person who had never set foot in our pantry.
“Don’t even try to talk me out of this Thurman. Our Board voted on this. The Migliorelli food will be donated to an agency in Kingston. It will not be wasted. You will not get any more of the Migliorelli produce.” And, with that, she hung up.
I was stunned. I felt as if someone had hit me.
AND, IT WASN’T THE FOOD THAT DID IT.   Our pantry was going to continue to have enough food. The Food Bank offered beautiful, fresh, organic produce every week, all year around. All we had to do was go up and get it. And, go get it we would. Our pantry commitment to fresh produce was serious.
The pantry shoppers, many of whom had absolutely no money at all were being denied participation in a local event that anyone could get in to…all it took was money.
Then, somehow, I’ll never know how, a miracle occurred. Someone (some people) spoke to someone (some people) and attitudes were adjusted.
WE WERE ALLOWED TO GET PRODUCE AGAIN.
I never knew how this happened. And, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that some person (people) fought for the pantry. And, they didn’t care whether anyone else knew what they did.  They just wanted the produce to stay in our community.  They just did whatever was necessary to get the food to the hungry.  Rules were changed.  Votes were changed.

FOR THAT, I’M ETERNALLY GRATEFUL.

Whoever brought about this change created a positive energy ripple effect.

Whoever brought about this change definitely made me realize that all is not lost in this world.

In spite of this, I never felt comfortable with the farm market food again.  I felt each Wednesday’s gift from Migliorelli’s Farms might be the last.  I held my breath as Guy drove the van over for the produce.  I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw it return with fresh produce.

When the farmers’ market returned the next spring, I waited (quietly apprehensive) to hear words from Rick:  “Thurman, Migliorelli is going to share its produce with the pantry this summer”.

Even as I heard those words, I didn’t believe them until I actually saw the produce.  I always had a well formed Plan B ready in case we had to start making extra trips to Albany on Thursday morning.  The need for fresh produce for our shoppers was great.

For the most part, these people were all in the process of losing so much.  It was up to me to keep Thursday produce on the agenda at the pantry.

At the Reservoir Food Pantry, we are extremely proud to have Migliorelli Farms sponsor us.  Our shoppers have beautiful, fresh Migliorelli vegetables every week .  What a beautiful gift!

Thank you.  From the bottom of my heart.

ON BEHALF OF THE MANY SHOPPERS WHO USE THE PANTRY, THANK YOU FOR READING THIS BLOG/BOOK.

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Peace and food for all.

Thurman Greco

 

 

 

What Hunger Looks Like in Woodstock

POLITICIANS THIS YEAR POSTURE ABOUT CUTTING BENEFITS AND INFRASTRUCTURE SPENDING TO PRESERVE OUR NATION.    Newspaper and magazine articles regularly discuss how we now have more super wealthy CEOs and individual Americans than we have ever had before.  The growing number of poor is largely ignored.

More Americans live at or below the poverty line than ever before in the history of our country according to a Feeding America survey.  Where do these people come from?  They come from the poor and middle classes.

THEY MAKE UP A NEW GROUP:  THE STRUGGLING POOR.

In September, 1990, when the Good Neighbor Food Pantry opened, President Bush and Soviet President Gorbachev met in Helsinki to discuss the Persian Gulf crisis.  Only 13.5% of our nation’s people lived below the poverty line.  That percentage represented about 33.5 million people according to infoplease.com.  Today, it’s estimated that 15% of Americans live at or below the poverty line.  That number is about 46.2 million.

AS THE COORDINATOR OF A SMALL TOWN FOOD PANTRY, I SAW THE SHOPPER CENSUS CLIMB FROM TWENTY-FIVE PERSONS PER WEEK PRIOR TO 2008 TO 500 PER WEEK BY 2013.

For years, the pantry served mostly single homeless men and Woodstock’s colorful characters on Thursdays.  By the time we were serving over 500 people weekly, we were giving a three-day-supply of food to families, households, and individuals in many categories:  artists, crazy poor, elderly poor, generational poor, homebound, homeless, ill poor, infant poor, messed-up poor, musicians, poets, newly poor, resource poor, situational poor, struggling poor, terminally ill poor, transient poor, underemployed poor, unemployed poor, veterans, writers.

AS TIME PASSED, I SAW MORE AND MORE HARD WORKING PEOPLE STRUGGLE WITH THE REALITY OF NOT HAVING ANY FOOD MONEY AFTER THEY PAID THE RENT AND BOUGHT GAS TO GET TO THEIR MINIMUM WAGE JOBS.   I served people just laid off from a job who I knew would never work again.  Seriously ill people came for food when they had no money left because every dime had gone to pay the medical bills.  Traumatized people came in when their homes were foreclosed or destroyed because of Hurricane Irene and Superstorm Sandy.

On a more personal level I met alcoholics, artists, child abusers, children, crazies, the disabled, druggies, drunks, elderly men and women, hardworking people juggling two and three jobs, homeless, mentally ill, messed-up people, musicians, people battling terminal illness, politicians, schizophrenics, thieves, veterans, Woodstock’s colorful characters, writers,  various church people, and pantry volunteers.

When I meet with other professionals in the food pantry industry, we all agree that we’ve never seen anything as bad as now.  Don Csaposs, a retired board member of the Food Bank of Northeastern New York recently described our situation very aptly when he said:  “We are living in an upside down world.”

NOW, IN 2014, POLITICIANS PONTIFICATE ABOUT THE POOR:  LAZY, IRRESPONSIBLE.

The average wait for a three-day-supply of food (which must be stretched to last a week) in the pantry hallway is almost an hour.  The building committee allows no chairs for the shoppers to sit on.  In the winter, there is no heat in the building except for the body heat generated by people crowded in the hallway.

AND, THIS WAIT IS ONCE THEY ARE INSIDE THE BUILDING.    Many wait outside for an hour or so in freezing weather, snow, sleet, rain, 100 degree heat, before the pantry opens.  It doesn’t matter.  The three-day-supply of food is gone and they have no money for more.

The three-day limit is a Hunger Prevention Nutrition Assistance Program (HPNAP) guideline.  And, it’s a practical one.  The fresh produce distributed isn’t going to last much more than three days because it’s been diverted from a landfill on its way to the pantry.

While receiving a three-day supply of food, they are doing without a lot:  salt, pepper, sugar, flour, fresh milk, cooking oil, coffee.

Often these people, like members of the Flores family work seven days a week – every week.  Every family member has more than one job.  They manage to bring in enough funds to pay the rent for a cramped apartment and to buy gas.

No insurance.

No food.

No clothes.

WHEN I THINK ABOUT IT, I REALIZE EVERYTHING THEY GET IS RECYCLED:

The apartment they rent is old and rundown.

Their pickup is definitely used.

The clothing is donated to Family by people who no longer plan to use it.

THE FOOD, LIKEWISE, IS RECYCLED.

The produce, dairy, and bread is all definitely on its way to the landfill when it gets diverted and sent to the Food Bank, then on to our pantry.

The canned goods are diverted at the grocery store from the landfill.  Cans are dented, outdated.   Some have no labels.

The boxed goods are the worst…especially the crackers.  A box of crackers is often a box of cracker crumbs.

NO MATTER, PEOPLE ARE GRATEFUL FOR WHAT THEY GET.   It’s better than nothing and no one ever complains.

On behalf of the Flores family and other pantry shoppers, I thank you for reading this blog/book.  This blog is their story…one that desperately needs to be told.

Please share  this article on your favorite  social media network.

Please send a comment.

Peace and food for all.

Thurman Greco

Spaghetti Sauce – That’s what it’s all about in a food pantry.

I’ve always had issues with spaghetti sauces.
MY MOTHER NEVER PREPARED A SPAGHETTI SAUCE.   She cooked in the classic French manner. Her family was one of the first settlers in Texas and had one of the largest ranches in the state so beef was on the table every day. Her meals focused on extremely thick steaks, composed salads with chopped apples, raisins, nuts arranged on a bed of lettuce in the middle of a salad plate and dressed with her own specially prepared poppy seed dressing.

The steaks were always at least two to four inches thick and were cooked at least medium rare. My mother learned the cooking and nutritional rules of her day and lived by those principles until she died.
SHE NEVER TAUGHT ME TO COOK.   “I want you to do other things with your life than cook. We’ve got can openers now. I’ll show you how to operate one of those when you get married.” True to her word, she did and I did.
As I set up my own kitchen right after getting married, one of the first things I taught myself to prepare was a tomato sauce to be served on spaghetti. It was easy, cheap, and just my speed.

THE RECIPE INCLUDED TWO  28-ounce cans of diced tomatoes, a 6-ounce can of tomato sauce, 1 cup water. It was seasoned with a teaspoon of dried basil, 1-1/2 teaspoons of salt, and 1/8 teaspoon of dried oregano. I put 1 clove of crushed garlic in a large pot along with 2 tablespoons olive oil and browned the garlic. Then, I added everything else and let it simmer for about 30 minutes.
I CAN’T SAY I’M A COOK.   However, I can say that, like my mother before me, I lived with a set of guidelines learned about nutrition, food safety, and how to follow a simple recipe to the “t”.

YEARS LATER,  my second spouse took cooking classes on Tuesday evenings at L’Academie de Cuisine in Bethesda, MD. It was glorious. He never really cooked a pasta sauce either. He finally ended up in what was for him a dream job as a vegetarian chef for Marriott and I never complained. After all, he did all the grocery shopping and cooking. What was there to complain about? Life was glorious!

MORE YEARS LATER, IN THE GOOD NEIGHBOR FOOD PANTRY,  I ENCOUNTERED YET MORE ISSUES WITH SPAGHETTI SAUES.   For one thing, there weren’t any. Pasta was available maybe half the time. But, the traditional jars and cans of spaghetti sauce were very difficult to find on the order list. It’s a shame too, because homeless or near-homeless people lack kitchens and to be able to open a can or jar of spaghetti sauce and heat it up in a pan over a burner or in a microwave would have been a real treat.
At one point, the USDA inventory included a low salt spaghetti sauce loaded with sugar. People took it home but we all knew that if they had diabetes, life could get complicated. This sauce certainly met the requirements for a low-salt product.
FINALLY, IN  2012, Progresso came out with a series of canned cooking sauces. And, following their policy of generous donations, they sent a huge shipment of them to the Food Bank.

HURRAY! I was able to buy these sauces for sixteen cents per pound which was well within my budget and many cans were available. And, buy them I did. One of them, Fire Roasted Tomato, appeared to be adaptable to a simple pasta sauce situation. While they were certainly not the traditional spaghetti sauces, they worked.

THAT’S REALLY WHAT IT’S ALL ABOUT IN A PANTRY.   We get the best fit we can based on what’s available. The shoppers take it home to wherever that is (tent, camper, room, apartment) and fake it. Welcome to the world of those who have no money for food.
Peace and food for all.
Thank you for reading this blog/book.
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GNP43

Thurman Greco

Inspections in the Good Neighbor Food Pantry in Woodstock

“As I finish writing about this unpleasant part of my life, I tell myself that was then, and there is now, and the years between now and then, and the then and now are one.”-Lillian Hellman

As the coordinator of a Food Bank pantry, I was trained by, supervised by, evaluated by, and inspected by the Food Bank of the Hudson Valley.

THESE INSPECTIONS WERE ALWAYS INFORMATIVE, INTERESTING, AND A RELIEF TO HAVE BEHIND ME.   I categorized them in several “Stages”.

A STAGE ONE INSPECTION   was  pre-arranged by either the Food Bank or myself.  The representative from the Food Bank showed up at the appointed time, carried a clip board with a form which was filled out. After the inspection, we all signed the paperwork, made small talk and the person left.

The questions dealt with the food on the shelves, how clean the room was, how far the shelves were from the walls. The Good Neighbor Food Pantry never passed this 6″ limit but no one ever said anything. The pantry room was simply too small.

A STAGE TWO INSPECTION WAS A PHONE CALL.

“Thurman, how are you doing? I’m calling because we’ve received a complaint.  Someone called and reported  a shopper  standing outside the pantry crying. What happened?”

“I don’t know.  I’ll  get back with you as soon as I can find out?”

“When do you think we’ll hear from you?”

“As soon as possible. I’ll ask some volunteers and  get a handle on the situation. Thanks for calling.”

At a Stage Three inspection, someone called, wrote, or visited the Food Bank with enough venom, concern, clout (you choose the word) to cause a person to get up from his/her desk, go out to the parking lot and drive to Woodstock to inspect the situation in person on the same day.

MY FIRST STAGE THREE INSPECTION WAS THE RESULT OF A PHONE COMPLAINT, I THINK.   I never knew for sure. Things were urgent enough that a USDA inspector came out from Albany in a State of New York car. He was a handsome young African American  man (in his 40’s) wearing  a white shirt and conservative necktie. The minute he walked in the door, I knew something was up. After all, who ever comes to the pantry in Woodstock wearing a shirt and necktie?

When he left two hours later, he knew “what color my skivvies were” as my grandmother used to say. He went over inch of the pantry, asked a million questions and took a kazillion notes. This man not only found out everything there was to know about the pantry, he realized early on that I was a brand new coordinator.

HE BECAME A WONDERFUL TEACHER AND I LEARNED A LOT ABOUT HOW TO MANAGE A PANTRY FROM HIM.   I asked him a million questions back and also took a kazillion notes. When he left, I felt I had a friend and the knowledge I gained gave me confidence  in my performance. Needless to say, my score was wonderful.

When  in Albany the next week, I told one of the Food Bank employees about my   recent inspection. Her face blanched as I talked.  This gentle, well mannered, kind young man was the nastiest inspector on the circuit. He was only sent out when someone was really messing things up and needed to be “taken to the woodshed.”

A NOTE TO WHOMEVER COMPLAINED THAT DAY:   the inspection was thorough, fair.   I passed with flying colors.  Thanks!

One important thing I learned from him: It’s not necessary to ask shoppers for identification. No one is required to show anything to get food. The people do need, however, to share their names, the number of people in the household and how many seniors, adults, and children are in the household.

HE ESPECIALLY LIKED THE CHAIRS LINING THE HALLWAY AND THE FRESH PRODUCE IN THE PANTRY.

As he left, he had one suggestion:  get office space in the pantry.  He and I both knew that it  wasn’t going to happen. The building committee finally allowed me to  store records but I couldn’t use any space as an office.

AND, OF COURSE, BOTH THE CHAIRS AND THE PRODUCE WERE VERY CONTROVERSIAL.

AFTER I FINAGLED STOREROOM SPACE, I REQUESTED AN INSPECTION.   I wanted to avoid a confrontation further down the road if the room didn’t meet  Food Bank standards. We passed that inspection.

EVERYTHING WAS CLEAN, SAFE, AND SANITARY.

ONCE WE BEGAN OUR TAKE OUTS, A FOOD BANK INSPECTOR CAME OUT AND SPENT ABOUT TWO HOURS WITH PEGGY JOHNSON.   She answered all Peggy’s questions, got a very clear understanding of what Peggy was doing, how she was doing it, and who was receiving the food. When she left, Peggy was confident in her role of Take Out Manager for the pantry.

WHEN MIRIAM’S WELL WAS ON THE ROAD, WE HAD AN INSPECTION UNDER THE TREE AT ST. GREGORY’S EPISCOPAL CHURCH.   No one was ever more excited about that inspection than I. We were  proud of Miriam’s Well and how the shoppers were responding to the experience.

WE HAD ONE DISTURBING STAGE THREE INSPECTION.   I pulled into the parking lot one pantry day afternoon to find a Food Bank representative  waiting for me.

“Thurman, we’ve received some serious complaints about a volunteer stuffing her vehicle with food while hungry people are lined up and waiting to receive their food at the Mass Food Distributions. What is the story here? Is this a fair distribution of food?”

“I’ll look into it immediately.”

OVERALL, OUR INSPECTIONS WERE POSITIVE.   The only negative one was the inspection in the parking lot of the food pantry.

Peace and food for all.

Thank you for reading this blog/book.

Please share this article with your preferred social media network.

Please leave a comment.

Thurman Greco