Uplift
During the season of Lent, we are all called to step back and evaluate where we are in our relationship with God, with our family, with our community, with our Church and within our world. This year, we will be highlighting some of the many outreach organizations that Nativity parishioners are involved with and support. The first organization is Uplift, a private, non-profit organization created to serve the homeless in Kansas City. They receive no government funding, existing solely on donation of goods and services. Three trucks run on three routes serving hot meals and providing necessities, as available.
My evening started in a bustle of activity. Each volunteer attending to our own duties – making hot cocoa, sorting donated perishables, replenishing toiletries, restocking trucks, placing filled orders on the correct route. Everyone is on a tight deadline; each truck needs to be en route at 6:00 pm. There are many stops to be made on this frigid February evening, doing the work of the Lord by feeding and clothing the hungry.
Every Monday, Wednesday and Saturday of the year, Uplift volunteers gather in a warehouse off of Truman Road to prepare in this manner.
From outside, a car horn honks, signaling someone is waiting for a garage door to open. Vivian Dennison, Outreach Support, hopes it is the volunteer cook arriving with the food, but it is more volunteers to ride on the trucks. Its crunch time, and the cook is obviously not coming, so they scramble to prepare a hot meal: beans and Vienna sausages for the central route which runs downtown, the eastern and western routes have a hearty chili mac, left over from Monday evening. Those two routes are more remote and have less access to missions and soup kitchens.
Parishioner Hugh McNamara drives the truck on the East route. He’s been involved with Uplift for four years. Now he gives his list a final check before starting up the old donated bread truck and pulling out into the narrow alley. Orders are on the top rack, they are specific items individuals have requested – shoes, jeans, sleeping bags, etc. – the second shelf has everything from toiletries and razors to socks, gloves and undergarments. The bottom shelf has first aid, matches, candles, books, coats, and more. Blankets sit in boxes on the floor. We all load up and head out. It’s just after 6:00 and the temperatures continue to drop, the wind chill is below zero.B
Brent Shriver, also a Nativity parishioner, rides along; he’s been volunteering for the last six months.
“It makes me feel good to help these people,” Brent says, “I am a messenger bringing food, clothing and hope.”
There are also two young women from a university in Minnesota riding along. They are staying a week at the Catholic Worker house on the Missouri side. Four other companions ride on another truck.
Out first stop is empty; in the bitter cold months the numbers drop from the average 60 to as little as 30, or less. According to Hugh, it’s always hit or miss, and very difficult to estimate who will come out. Every time you load the trucks you try your best to anticipate the needs of those you will encounter.
“You want to give them as much as you can,” Hugh says, “but if you give them too much, those at the end of the route will not have enough. It’s a judgment call.”
The second stop is under a bridge, actually a highway. A lone truck is pulled over on the icy road. They flash their headlights, and Hugh flashes his back. This is the signal that they want us to stop.
Four men await us patiently as we open the doors. They greet us with warm smiles and graciously take the food offered them. Stubby asks for an extra hot cocoa, “so both hands can be warm” as he sticks the bottles in his pocket. Jerry takes his food and sits off to the side, quietly eating. Kenny and Gary stay with us, exchanging pleasantries and answering questions. Gary’s poise gives evidence of a former life. He traveled – around the world exactly once – and has only been on the street a few years.
"[There’s] No one of us that wouldn’t work if we could,” Gary says, “but without transportation, and not being on the bus lines, it’s just hard to find a job.”
Gary gives us thanks and a hearty sendoff. We’re on our way again. The next several stops are deserted. They are down by the truck yards where the prostitutes usually are.
“When it’s this cold and there’s no one there, you just have to pray and hope they’re OK,” Brent says with great reverence. “They have to make a choice, either stay warm and go hungry, or risk the bitter cold in search of a full stomach.”
Most opt for warmth. They live hungry and know there will be another day, but the cold is much more harsh and unforgiving. We stop at a gas station to fuel up. Dog and Sherry work there on Wednesday nights. We trade out – a warm meal for them and a cappuccino for us. Dog is flighty and off to refill the cooler. Sherry chats with Hugh, exchanging updates on regulars. She treats us with motherly warmth and acceptance and tells us to stay warm and come back soon.
After warming up, we’re back out to meet up with Sunny and his dog (and faithful companion). We drive past his home and honk. We have to go down the road, turn around and honk again before he materializes out of the brush waving and smiling. Hugh and Sunny go way back. There is a genuine camaraderie there, and Sunny invites us up to his place to “really see how we live,” he explains.
It’s a steep, icy path up to his home; everything covered in snow and darkness, so it’s difficult to make out what the construction materials are used. He points out the wooden crates and tarps that block out the street lights and keep everything hidden from wandering eyes. Then we take a peek inside – there is little space between the opening and the top (keeps the warmth in), and a lone candle puts off soft flickering light. The steam from his plate of food rises; he’ll wait until we leave to eat.
Sunny lived up to his namesake, he is all grace, warmth and cheerfulness; but there is steel in his conviction and he doesn’t gloss over the reality of the position of the homeless. He explains that he would rather live here than down in the shelters. He and so many others echoed the same sentiments; it is safer to be out on the streets than in the shelters. He told us that even on these bitter cold nights he could not risk a fire, the smoke might get him evicted, and he would have to start all over.
Our last two stops are close to the river. Two brothers who love to read, Chief and Randy meet us at the stop. Randy tells us about his new warm lamb’s wool scarf – he’s masculine enough to wear it, even though it’s pink. It was given to him by a “nice lady in a Mercedes” earlier in the evening. They ask for very little, books mostly, to help them “escape and go wherever the book takes them.” And they place an order for some jeans and shoes. Randy is very chatty and upbeat, and Chief is more reserved. It’s Chief’s birthday on Monday. We wish them a happy Valentine’s Day and a happy birthday as we part.
The last stop is under another bridge; four men live in a camp there.Since it’s the last stop on the route, we stay a little while. Hugh and Scott catch up.
“They’re a neat group of guys,” Hugh says. “Very unique and they look out for each other.”
As we head back to the warehouse we all discuss the evening, agreeing it was an ideal way to spend Valentine’s day. Back at Uplift, we unload the trucks, do the dishes, fill to orders, sort the dry goods. Vivian determines what food will keep, and what needs to go. She thanks us first-timers for coming.
Operation Uplift is an outreach opportunity that offers individuals the opportunity to live out the Beatitudes on the streets of Kansas City. There are many ways to get involved whether you’re serving meals off the back of a truck, cooking the meals, sorting donations or getting involved with outreach support – visiting the sick and providing transportation. Visit www.uplift.org for all the details on how you can get involved. Many parishioners like Hugh and Brent are already involved. This Lenten season be open to what opportunities are calling to you.
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