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.
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Peace and food for all.
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.
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Thurman Greco
Abundance in the Food Pantry
Surrounded by abundance, poor people had trouble buying food that really nourished them. Fat was cheap and filling, vegetables were complicated and scarce, so salt, grease, and sugar reigned.” – Sara Miles
FOR ME, PANTRIES ARE ALL ABOUT ABUNDANCE. Abundance and gratitude. Churches see pantries as an outreach project. And, of course, outreach is a popular term.
Many congregations love to support feeding the hungry – especially if the funds go to feed a group of children in Botswana, Somalia, India. The farther away the better, it seems. It’s when the outreach is local that things get a little dicey.
FEEDING THE HUNGRY IN A FOOD PANTRY IS AN ACT OF GRATITUDE. When we feed people, we own up to the amazing abundance in and around us. We also face the fact that we are spiritually hungry. Feeding the hungry in a food pantry addresses this spiritual hunger issue head on. It also addresses the physical issue. Pantry shoppers and volunteers are both surrounded by abundance. There are millions of pounds of food available to pantries and soup kitchens throughout our fair land, all of it diverted from a landfill. There is absolutely no reason, no excuse, for anyone in the good old U S of A to go hungry.
Based on my experience in a food pantry since 2005, it’s my opinion that people having trouble with the spiritual issues begin to question who should get food and who shouldn’t get food. For some, feeding the “unworthy hungry” meant we were feeding freeloaders. But not all hungry people look needy. Some of the best dressed people in Woodstock never spend a dime on their clothes. For one thing, they have no money for clothes. For another, they shop in the free store closet at Family of Woodstock.
THE PANTRY HAD THREE SHOPPERS WHO ESPECIALLY DIDN’T LOOK THE PART. They were young women, with children, who drove late model SUVs. I don’t know if they knew each other but their stories were similar. Two of them had been married to men with influential employment and money. Neither one of them received one dime from the husband in the separation process.
The younger one had one son and couldn’t work because her husband seriously injured her when he threw her against a wall. Her recovery was slow. She always came with her eight-year-old son. I got the feeling they went everywhere together.
I noticed right away that she chose items from shelves where bending was not necessary. That left out many items but she wanted to be as independent as possible.
Another woman, Elizabeth, was a little older. She had a house full of children including a set of twins. She just couldn’t get it together to work. And, I doubt if she could have gotten employment in our area anyway. This lovely lady had a Ph.D. There weren’t many jobs available in her career field. And, of course, once a woman gets an advanced degree, the lower level jobs are just not open to her unless she hides the education. Sometimes education can be hidden. Sometimes it can’t. It all depends on the situation. The main thing is to get rid of it on the resume.
Elizabeth was very open minded about the food she selected. With five children, she basically took anything that wasn’t tied down. She qualified for cases of USDA. So, Elizabeth left the pantry with a case of pasta sauce, canned corn, green beans, vegetarian beans, refries, etc. Her kids ate everything. When she finished shopping, Robert Allen, our youngest volunteer, always brought out the cart to put her groceries on and wheeled them to her car.
The third person was in a slightly different situation. She was a volunteer in our pantry with a degree, a house, two adorable daughters, and a spouse with a job somewhere in Europe. The spouse decided he wanted nothing more to do with either her or the children. No money was coming across the ocean for her and the two children.
Laura was very happy to take the vegetarian items available each week. Her children loved fresh vegetables so there was much to choose from. Laura’s girls also looked forward to yogurt as a treat.
SO…HERE WE HAVE THREE FAMILIES with no money for food, (or much of anything else for that matter.)
So…here we have three households, single-headed households in need of food. If not for a couple of years, then at least for several months.
So…where were the fathers in all this? Not paying the child support, that’s for sure.
NONE OF THESE HOUSEHOLDS IS HOMELESS ALTHOUGH they might be when the tax collector comes to call.
None of these households is in rags although they might be when the clothes wear out.
None of these households is without transportation although they might be when/if the vehicle needs expensive repairs.
None of these household members look the part.
UNWORTHY HUNGRY? WHAT DO YOU THINK?
Thank you for reading this blog/book.
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Peace and food for all.
Thurman Greco
The Inquisition – Food Pantry Meetings in Upstate New York
“We came closer to understanding the crazy circus logic of the witch-hunt that began.” – Kathy Bates
What a year! 2011 began with Gabrielle Giffords being shot in the head. Gaddafi was killed. Hosni Mubarak was forced from power. Osama Bin Ladin was killed. Hurricane Irene left destruction still not repaired. Our country entered its 10th year in Afghanistan, and unemployment hit 9%.
Meanwhile, in Woodstock, I remember 2011 as the year the building committee
Tried, really tried to get rid of me
Tried, really tried to return to the pre-2008 glory days of 25 shoppers a week
Tried, really tried to get rid of the cardboard
Tried, really tried to get rid of the fresh produce
Tried, really tried to reduce the pantry footprint by reducing the hours available to the volunteers
Tried, really tried to reduce the pantry footprint by reducing the number of volunteers permitted in the pantry at any given time
Tried, really tried to restrict the shoppers’ and volunteers’ access to the parking lot
Tried, really tried to get control of the money that was coming in to the pantry from donations.
THE INQUISITIONS
They hosted several Inquisitions in July, August, and September to address their displeasure with everything they could think of, item by item. These meetings were attended by Ed Jabbs, Stewart DeWitt, and Barbara Moorman from the building committee. Pastor Bode attended the meetings also. Hatti Iles, Ann King, Mike Lourenso, Marilou Paturel, Karen White, and Jim Dougherty represented the community. I was only allowed to attend because, as the coordinator, I knew a lot about things that were going on which absolutely no one else knew. For starters, I knew the HPNAP rules and the Food Bank guidelines.
We all crowded around a large table in the corner room adjacent to the storeroom. Ed Jabbs sat at the head of the table with the posture of judge and jury. During the meetings he did all the talking for the building committee.
Barbara Moorman and Stewart DeWitt, building committee members, never uttered a sound unless he asked one of them a question. Two building committee members did not attend these meetings: Roger Shultis and Mike Cooter. Too bad for them because these two guys really couldn’t stand Thurman Greco and They would have love, love, loved to have been there. I never quite figured out why they weren’t included.
Certainly Roger Shultis knew a lot about the pantry activities. He spent pantry days in the hall watching everything with a scowl on his face.
Hatti Iles was the spokesperson for the community. Hatti is a local artist, very talented and well known. She practices martial arts, teaching Tai Chi in town. Hatti was very grounded when the situation got aggressive.
Thurman Greco was identified in all cases by Ed Jabbs as the main culprit in all complaints.
THE FIRST INQUISITION
Huge on the agenda at the first inquisition in July was rot and vermin mitigation. They didn’t want produce because it brought bugs, rot, vermin, and cardboard. We had long discussions in which the building committee members discussed their opinions that all the produce coming into the pantry from whatever source was rotten.
Our response was that the produce came from the Food Bank in pristine condition and would not rot if kept cool. Which brought up yet again the problem that we needed more refrigerators which were never going to be admitted in the building: never, never, never. The fact that the Meals on Wheels kitchen across the hall from our pantry had several refrigerators and freezers was not even considered.
The pantry was not, ever, going to get more appliances.
The unspoken words: “We don’t want the pantry feeding this kind of food to these people. The unworthy hungry should go to Kingston. We’re going to do everything possible to stop the escalation of the shopper census. We’re going to do everything possible to reduce the pantry to the point where it’s serving 25 people per week again. You have ruined our pantry.”
The fact that there were no bugs or mice in the food was of no consequence. The presence of produce and cardboard invited these vermin and no argument was able to overcome their stand. Facts had no weight in this inquisition. They just didn’t want me in the pantry at all.
The building committee insisted that we store the produce in plastic bins with tight fitting lids. They demanded that the food be removed from the building on Thursday at the end of the pantry week.
Removing the food on Thursday at the end of the pantry week was certainly fine with me. We were taking the leftover produce to Family and then to the Woodstock Farm Animal Shelter.
Storing the produce in plastic bins with tight fitting lids was not. When produce is stored in airtight plastic bins, it can’t breathe. This speeds up the rotting process. However, I had to do this if I wanted the pantry to remain open.
To make their point, a church member went to Target and bought four of the largest plastic bins he would find to the tune of $150. These bins appeared in the pantry storeroom complete with the receipt for reimbursement. These bins were so large that, when filled with produce, they couldn’t be lifted by the volunteers.
The building committee digressed from the vermin/cardboard issue at the first meeting to establish that the pantry was renting the space by the hour and the value of the space is $20 per hour. We were paying a nominal sum for the rent: $1000 per year. The issue was that everyone needed to be clear that we weren’t paying our “freight”, as my grandmother in Texas would have said. Nothing was ever mentioned about the fact that, for years, the pantry had paid nothing for the space. I had begun to pay the church for the space because I felt the pantry needed to offer money to cover costs such as painting the walls, cleaning the bathrooms.
Offering the church money for the space was a seriously bad idea. We ended up cleaning the bathrooms ourselves and paying to paint the walls. The building committee resented the money because of the amount given.
THE AUGUST INQUISITION
The August inquisition moved right along to insurance issues, fire codes, inspections from the Food Bank, restriction of volunteer access to the building, pantry volunteers trying to identify who was breaking in the pantry and stealing food.
“We spoke with our insurance agent and you need liability insurance with the church co-named. We need a policy in our hands by Monday.”
“This is Thursday afternoon. It’s 4:00 and our meeting isn’t even over yet. How can we do this by Monday?”
“Well, you better do it or your pantry is out of the building. I realize this is problematic for you but we spoke with our insurance agent and this is what we need.”
AND
“We need a fire inspection of the building. We want to make sure your volunteers aren’t breaking any rules in the pantry. Your tables, chairs, and all those people in the hallway are a fire hazard. All those cans and boxes and all that produce might be a fire hazard.”
AND
“There are far too many chairs in the hallway. We don’t want more than three or four chairs in the hallway. Right now you have the hallway lined with chairs for the shoppers. This is a safety hazard.”
AND
We want to know when anyone is in the building. Anytime a Food Bank person is in the pantry, we need to know about it. We want to see copies of all of your inspection reports.”
“I’ll be happy to show you the inspection reports except that I’m not permitted to. The Food Bank considers that information to be confidential. Actually, I’m very proud of those reports. I get the highest score possible on all the inspections.” I used this moment to proudly describe the details of every inspection we’d had, including the surprise visit from the USDA. I was then, and still am, very proud of how our inspections went. I always got top grades.
AND
“We saw a police car outside the pantry yesterday. It wasn’t even pantry hours. What’re you doing?” Jabbs’ voice was raised.
“We’re trying to find out who’s been stealing food from the pantry and the storeroom while the pantry is closed.”
“How dare you call the police! You have no authority to call the police! This building is ours! We decide who calls the police!”
“Well, we have to find out who’s been stealing food. Someone is coming into the pantry and stealing food.”
“No you don’t! If we see a police car here again, you’re outta here!”
For months I had noticed food disappearing from the pantry when it was closed. I tracked the disappearances. Most of the time someone was coming in and getting a can or jar or two. Then, things escalated a bit. One Tuesday, I came in the pantry to find nine cans of green beans missing. Another time I came in to find several jars of peanut butter missing. The culprit had a sense of humor. An empty jar of peanut butter was left as a calling card.
The final issue was the restriction of hours and volunteers. We were told to have fewer volunteers during pantry hours and to be in the pantry only during certain times on specific days.
We never brought up the subject of the food thefts again. We felt if we did that the pantry would be shut down because the only way a person could get into the building, then into the pantry, and remove food repeatedly without damaging the doors, and locks, was by having a key. That made the thefts an inside job. The building committee members all had keys to the pantry rooms.
Our accusations were too close for comfort.
SEPTEMBER BROUGHT THE FINAL INQUISITION.
The agreement that resulted from these meetings brought many changes:
Tuesdays we were allowed in the building from 9:00 a.m. until noon to stock shelves.
Tuesday afternoons were available to selected volunteers to prepare take out bags.
On Wednesday mornings, we could bring in produce from 11:30 to 12:30. We then had to vacate the building until 3:00 p.m. when we could reenter to operate the pantry until 7:00.
Thursdays we were in the building from 2:00 p.m. until the pantry closed at 5:00. We were required to be out of both the building and the parking lot by 6:30 p.m.
On Fridays I was allowed to bring in a small shipment of canned/boxed goods at some point between 4:00 p.m. and 6:00 p.m. for no more than thirty minutes. I was not allowed to put any products on the shelves.
No food was allowed to be distributed from the hallway on pantry days.
No more than three chairs were allowed in the hallway.
Our shoppers were not allowed to use the handicap restroom.
On one was allowed to lean on or touch the walls.
No one was allowed to sit on or go up or down the foyer stairs. No one was allowed in the foyer at all except to walk through to the hallway.
Nothing was allowed in the entrance foyer or on the stairs.
We had permission to use the length of the hallway. We weren’t allowed to use the hallway from the point it turned toward the remainder of the church.
Church member volunteers were in the building when we were allowed to operate the pantry. They watched activities making sure we didn’t break rules. Some watchers were discreet. Others were obvious, in our faces. One walked up and down the hall, the parking lot and the entrance yard taking photographs and continually talking on the phone to others relaying all of the things we were doing. I was always protective of the shoppers where photographs were concerned but when this happened, I simply did nothing. The situation was too confrontational.
Anyone using the church bathroom (not the handicap bathroom) was to be supervised by a pantry volunteer.
Any pantry inspections required prior notification to the building committee.
The building committee wanted copies of all our paperwork. The building committee wanted to know about every grant received.
I was allowed to store records in the storeroom but not allowed to have an office or perform any administrative functions.
It was good the meetings ended when they did because in July I was a totally upset sweet little old lady trying very hard to do what the Food Bank and the HPNAP people wanted. By September I was eating nails. My attitude was that I would continue to do what the Food Bank and HPNAP wanted and would not provoke the building committee. I followed their rules and promised myself that when “the fat lady sings”, so would I.
I had returned to my Texas roots. My motto was this: “I don’t start the fight but I’ll damn sure finish it.” My family came from very tough stock. We were some of the first settlers in America and then in Texas. My Grandmother was a Deputy Sheriff in Edwards County, Texas, and my father was an attorney who used the word “ethical” everytime he used the word “legal”.
I emerged from the Inquisitions with a mission statement: to inform people about hunger in America by writing about food pantries in articles, a blog, and books. I would produce a TV show on public access TV and put the material on You Tube.
2011 was the pivotal year.
Thank you for reading this blog/book
Please post this article on your preferred social network
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Peace and food for all.
Thurman Greco
In the Parking Lot of the Woodstock Reformed Church
“It’s one thing to wish for things to be different in your life, and it’s something else to have the capacity to create the life you want.” – Sister Mohini
Every week more people came to the pantry for food than the week before. This phenomenon had been going on for months…years; ever since the fall of the economy in 2008. Some weeks we’d get ten new families.
And, of course, they all became regular shoppers.
“We’ve got to do something>” I said to Guy Oddo one afternoon.
“Yup” he aid “the parking lot’s dangerous. There’s going to be a wreck out there one of these days.”
Actually, there was. Someone ran into my car about two weeks ago. “Do you have any suggestions?”
“Well, how about we put a volunteer in the parking lot to direct traffic.?”
“What if we limit the shopping time in the pantry?”
“Can we make some of these people park in the town lot down the street?”
So, we did all three things. Guy stood in the parking lot with maps to other parking lots in town. He distributed the maps while directing traffic. And, we further limited the shopping time in the pantry.
They kept coming, the new families. They needed the food.
Nothing,
not rain,
not sleet,
not snow,
not 100-degree afternoons,
not a totally packed parking lot,
not insults from pantry deniers stopped them.
Thank you for reading this blog/book.
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Peace and food for all.
Thurman Greco
