Tuesday, Oct. 17, I arrived in Chicago for a two week visit. I stayed at my sister Esther’s house in Oak Park, Illinois -- an affluent suburb and home of Frank Lloyd Wright. It’s very lovely here. The homes sell for $300,000 plus and the condos are like fine hotels. My sister’s six-story condo is one of the “high-rise” buildings that overlooks a Frank Lloyd Wright church and the tops of trees in full fall colors. Some folks in Oak Park reluctantly quote Wright as saying about Oak Park “the broader the lawn, the narrower the mind”, but I’m not sure if that would be true today. It is a strange place to begin my project “Hungry Neighbors.”
Street Roots has endorsed my project. I plan to visit at least 10 cities this year where street newspapers are sold by homeless and/or needy vendors. Chicago is my first visit to Street Wise, Chicago’s street paper, where next week I have several appointments.
Wednesday evening Esther invited her friends Patty and Phil to her home to meet me. They were senior citizens who have been volunteers for Public Action to Deliver Shelter (PADS) in Western Suburbs of Cook County at Esther’s church in Oak Park. They had many stories to tell about homeless folks in Oak Park, many of whom were born and raised in this bountiful suburb. On Thursday they open the church to about 50 guests, and the dinner that night would be meat loaf casserole, Tater Tots, fresh green beans, salad and desert.
Phil chimed in “Yeah, Ruth, you could get some good stories and pictures for your project. Come join us.”
So Thursday evening at 7:00, Esther and I went over to the First United Methodist Church of Oak Park. I was ready with my video camcorder. The hall was large, dark and empty, but soon came alive with about 20 volunteers. First they hustled up and down stairs to the basement storage and carried up 50 sleeping pads, pillows, sheets and blankets.
Meanwhile a few of them dragged five long tables to the end of the hall.
“Ten chairs at each table, four on each side and one at each end,” called out a volunteer coordinator.
“What can I do?” asked a young man.
“Put the napkins and silver at each place.”
“How about me?” said an eager 72-year-old volunteer.
“Go to the kitchen. They’re short of help tonight.”
I followed her to the kitchen, knowing that the pads were being carefully lined up, 18 inches apart. The kitchen crew each had their jobs under control. One was making a large salad, another washing the fresh green beans and snipping off the tips. The meatloaf and potato folks were adding ingredients in layers to the large baking pans.
I filmed boxes of orange cup cakes with chocolate eyes and smiling mouths, boxes of brownies, rows of oatmeal cookies and butter cookies — frosted with pumpkin designs, homemade kolacky, and little pieces of frosted cake. I was trying to decide which one I would choose when a senior gentleman spread out 50 small plates. Within minutes one of each dessert was put on all the plates. Every guest would have all five desserts.
Soon the chairs were filled by 50 eager guests — mostly men — but there were also five women and two children in the group.
The night coordinator, Alan Arbuckle, greeted everyone, made a few announcements and introduced me. When he mentioned I’d be visiting Street Wise later next week, there were smiles and nods that made me feel welcome. I said a few words about Street Roots and advised the group that I’d be taking pictures, but only with their permission. I’ve learned that some folks don’t want to be photographed and I always respect that. But more than half were anxious to talk to me, on or off camera.
After visiting the first four tables and saying “hello” while a few guests smiled or waved at the camera, I thought I’d soon be leaving. But at the fifth table, two gentlemen motioned for me to sit down for a visit.
“Okay lady. First turn off that camera.”
“No problem. That’s why I announce my plans.”
“We want to know what you’re getting out of this,” one of them said.
“I’m gathering information and stories for my project. I’m hoping to write a report that I’ll share with other street newspapers.”
“Are there many other papers?” asked the other fellow.
“Oh yes. Not just here in the U.S., but all over the world. I intend to visit at least 10 cities by June. After Chicago, I plan to visit New York, Washington, DC, Los Angeles, Sacramento, San Francisco, Oakland, Seattle and Spokane.”
There is a lot of stuff out there on the Web, in grant proposals, in newspaper reports, magazines, journals and text books that show numbers, charts and graphs. I’d like to humanize those numbers by telling the stories about Charlie and Bob in Chicago.
Charlie is a Viet Nam veteran who returned home to a series of disappointments. He was soon unemployed, drinking too much and eventually homeless. Bob had a good education and a good job, but health problems kept him from working and wiped out his savings.
The three of us agreed that the health, welfare and education agencies might have helped them recover, but recent cuts sent so much money to the “war on terror” that it seemed impossible to get back on their feet.
I asked quite a few of the guests, “Did you enjoy your dinner? Are you glad to have a place to sleep tonight? And do the PADS folks treat you with respect?” The answer was always “Yes.” The volunteers greeted many guests by name. There was some hugging, and a lot of smiling, when familiar folks met. It was obvious that the guests seemed to know each other and combined to make a community. I left the church feeling privileged that I had been included in a family gathering.