A homeless man I encounter at the south end of Franklin Street seems to think I”ve been taking pictures at the Fort Bragg Food Bank for years, not as part of the newspapers” Season of Sharing series but because I”m a sinister agent of some sort, perhaps for the FBI.
Although I had never pointed the camera at him, he sometimes makes a scene about me and covers his giant, bearded head with his stained hoodie, as if to make himself invisible.
On the day before Thanksgiving, I see him very busily moving about as I work on my story for this series, muttering to himself and clearly on a mission of some sort. I think to myself, orders from outer space? Food Bank statistics show 15 percent of the clients are homeless, but very, very few fit this kind of stereotype, I have found.
I”m looking to personalize a story on the client demographics at the Food Bank. He seems like a poor choice to feature, but then I think of the consistent gibberish on TV news and sometimes from the general public along the lines of, “These people should just get jobs.”
I smile at the picture of this guy arriving for his first day of work for some pundit.
But then, my somewhat ugly thoughts are jarred toward humility as I realize he”s making himself useful by finding parking places near the Food Bank for elderly and disabled people. He makes an incredibly imposing figure, waving away some people in a pickup who wanted a space right out front, then shuffling out of the way when a little lady barely able to see over the steering wheel arrives.
I”m not sure who put him onto this very useful mission, but I do know who contributed to the parking chaos.
Me.
You see, I”ve literally become much closer to the Fort Bragg Food Bank, after four years of “imbedded” reporting and eating.
I”m not referring to the genuine empathy I have developed or the great people I have come to know well. I”m talking about my office, at 900 N. Franklin, where I own and run an online business and a fledgling nonprofit, MendoPower Employment Services, devoted to employment and recycling. When we rented the office a few years ago, the familiar Food Bank became my next-door neighbor.
While it”s easy to report on the Food Bank”s needs and preach about other people”s prejudices, it”s harder being a next door neighbor and having my car blocked or even dinged by Food Bank clients. Prejudices I have condemned in my series sometimes find their way to my veins, and worse, my lips.
On the day before Thanksgiving, I had blocked off half of our parking lot, which the Food Bank uses. This allowed me to come and go during the day but also forced a lot of people to walk a long way and return to their cars with that precious turkey and heavy feast so many in the community had worked so hard to give.
Second Chance Rescue was offering its monthly free Frontline treatment that day, creating a true mob of families, dogs, busy people hurrying in and out and some bunches of homeless.
If 100 Food Bankers park on a given day, one or maybe two may send me over the edge. They are the folks who throw unwanted food out the window as they drive away. Or the ones who thread their car behind five other cars, blocking them all in, including me, all so that they don”t have to walk an extra 10 steps.
Last year, I confronted a clean-cut 20ish couple who parked in the most inconsiderate way imaginable. Blondie jumped out and ran into the Food Bank, ignoring me. Backwards ballcap sat in the passenger seat and told me he was not going to move, using language not approved by newspaper editors or the FCC. I did the same and eventually got him to leave, after a mutual bout of childishness.
What I felt bad about was my attack (in clean language, but still) on an unrelated woman who had just barely blocked us in. I”m sure I ruined her day and she would cringe if she saw me uptown.
The days before Christmas and Thanksgiving in PAST years, I had a simple choice, shut down my office or fight with irate double and triple parkers. I chose to block off half my lot.
This year a record 780 Thanksgiving turkeys with attached banquets were given away. But thanks to concerted efforts by the Food Bank to spread out the crowd over two days, I never faced parking madness and felt a little bad making everybody walk.
With the bearded, muttering man doing the thoughtful thing, I figured I should at least give words to the entirely peaceful and friendly human cacophony before me.
I felt better when I met 7-year-old Kayla Wendland in line inside. While adults experience feelings ranging from slight humiliation to paranoia, children find free toys and clothes in the waiting room and a treasure hunt for tasty food in the Food Bank line. Kayla loves turkey. Her 3-year-old brother, Isaac Davis, gives a big toothsome smile to the possibility of pumpkin pie.
Mom Breena Wendland said the Food Bank”s huge Thanksgiving dinner isn”t enough for a family of five, but it sure helps.
“What we get here makes it possible to get the rest of what we need for Thanksgiving,” Breena said.
Twenty-five percent of household members served by the Food Bank are children. It”s never hard to find the kids there or see that the program helps families eat healthier foods.
Behind the exuberant family in line was Shalah Love, who was picking up food for two disabled men she is a caregiver for. One is an 85-year-old retiree and 100 percent disabled veteran. He has a scooter he likes to ride to the Food Bank, but it was just too cold that day. The other man is suffering because of cutbacks to food stamps.
Love pointed out that more than the growing gap between rich and poor accounts for the growing Food Bank numbers.
“People are living a lot longer and a lot of us are going to need care and food,” Love said.
Twenty percent of Food Bank clients are over the age of 60. The ethnic mix is a little more white than the general community, with 75 percent of the users defining themselves as Caucasian, with 15 percent Hispanic. Latino people comprise 22 percent of the population in the most recent census. The remaining 10 percent show 8 percent Native American and 2 percent others, which does reflect the community.
I”ve met some travelers, delighted at the quality and friendliness of the local Food Bank, but most of the people I meet are quite familiar. Just ahead in the line was Terry Murphy, 54, a man who fits almost every Fort Bragg demographic, a former logger, expecting a small Georgia Pacific pension when he turns 55.
“This place is a great thing,” he says. “It works very well and is a big help for the community, especially now, with hard times all over, not just in the timber business.”
My business and nonprofit don”t do retail so we have nowhere near the people coming and going, but we have trucks coming and going as well as employees, volunteers and associates. So why do I get silly mad at some guy who parks behind me, even before he curses at me? Why does he feel the right to act this way?
Volunteer Nancy Milano and I were talking about this and how different it is in other countries we have visited. We agreed that Americans, regardless of their station in life, tend to feel entitled.
The giving environment at the Food Bank does change that. Homeless guys help elderly ladies park. And I”m working on being less imperial about our parking lot.
Season of Sharing
This series goes hand in glove with the Advocate-News” and The Mendocino Beacon”s annual Season of Sharing fund drive for the Food Bank. The goal is to give the Food Bank money it can use year-round, not just during the holidays.
Last year, $21,890.29 was donated, which brought the total raised since our first fund drive in 1995 to $185,890.
The nonprofit Community Foundation of Mendocino County administers the Season of Sharing free of charge as a courtesy to the newspapers. Every cent taken in by the newspapers goes to the Food Bank.
Checks should be made out to the Community Foundation of Mendocino County (CFMC), and mailed to the newspaper at P.O. Box 1188, Fort Bragg, 95437, or dropped off at 450 N. Franklin St. If you have any questions, call us at 964-5642.
The fundraiser runs through Dec. 31. Donors” names are printed each week, unless they ask to remain anonymous.
As of Tuesday, donations totaled $1,950. With the Food Bank, we thank Susan Hofberg, Dallas and Candace Gittins, and one anonymous donor.
