This past outreach event was the most successful yet but presented new challenges, especially at Tent City. When we arrived at the Cadillac Motel, a long line of people extended well into Frayser Avenue, blocking traffic. Additionally, so many cars were parked on the corner of Frayser Avenue and Second Street that there was no room for Ole’ Blue (our truck pulling a trailer), containing about half of the provisioning God had put in our path to distribute. I did not realize it then, but most of these parked vehicles were volunteers. “Where on Earth did these people come from?” I said to myself.

Well, I knew the answer to that question. First of all, we had an unprecedented amount of food already loaded up. Specifically, we had spent the previous day loading up Tom’s cargo van with at least (I did not count) twenty boxes of canned food and several cases of cereal and chips. (We’ll discuss why we had so many cans toward the end.) It was forecasted to rain that next day, Saturday, August 31^st, and because of that, I was concerned that not many people would show up and we would be stuck with unloading the full van and the forty totes of food bags, shoes, socks, and hygiene items on the trailer. So, that Friday, I went way overboard on social media, alerting everyone I could to the times and places we would be distributing the goods. It was so overboard that some found it annoying. But it worked. We had carloads of people pull up on the street and disembark like clowns falling out of a clown car. You probably won’t get that metaphor unless you were born in the sixties or before. But it was a lot of people. There were so many that we gave away about 300 food bags at just the Cadillac Motel alone. We only had about 375 to start with. This had never happened before. Well, that’s not right; we ran out all of the time when we started in 2021.

Something else unexpected happened. Suitcases. Yeah, I know, that seems out of place. One person donated an empty purple suitcase at our last outreach in July. At that time, I thought to myself, “Who is going to want that?” But I threw it on the trailer, and a Tent City resident quickly commandeered it and filled it up with provisioning for safe transport back to camp. I wrote about it in this online journal, and, to my surprise, someone actually read what I wrote. Do people read this? And in August, someone brought in about ten empty suitcases. Believe it or not, they all instantly disappeared at this day’s first stop. People like suitcases. Who knew?

Thankfully, Tom volunteered to take charge of food distribution, and along with the record-breaking number of volunteers, things went smoother than ever. I am so thankful for Tom and Karen Bristow. They’re as constant as the northern star. They’re always there, rain or shine. Many people who worship with them at Ridgewood Baptist Church also show up consistently. How Kim (my wife) and I did this before is beyond me.

We packed up what we had left and headed to Tent City. The last time we were there, we noticed that a long-term resident (we’ve nicknamed him “Doppler,” if you know, you know) had moved away. I now suspect that he was the glue that held this community together. I feel certain that previously, he was the mediator, ensuring everyone shared the provisioning we delivered. Now that I look back on it, I remember watching him arbitrate arguments and even de-escalate a hostile encounter between two residents. In the past, before we departed, he encouraged the residents to pray together with us. He was kind and compassionate. But he’s gone, and the effects are beginning to rear its ugly head in their social pyramid. For the first time since we started our outreach at Tent City, we now see descension and strife. It will be interesting to see how that turns out.  But it will not be engaging in a good way, I fear.

I usually write about finding about four new residents who will join the consistent ten or so who live there. Then, the next month, there will be four or so different people and the same constant residents. On this visit, that flip-flopped. There were about fifteen people there, and only four or so were people that we consistently see there. Were the missing residents a result of the lack of leadership? Were all the extra people there because of my overzealous social media promotion? Yes, people experiencing homelessness have access to social media.

Unlike before, we had to ration the food bags because of the unexpected turnout at the Cadillac. Looking back on it, we could have rationed the food we gave away at the Cadillac Motel. But in defense of that, there were a lot of people there. Although well organized, it was crazy. It’s hard to tell someone they can’t have food. As a result, some Tent City residents voiced disappointment since we had given them liberally in the past. But we did have several other items for them, including some lumber, screws, nails, duct tape, and citronella torches to help keep the bugs away.

To see these malnourished bodies covered with bug bites breaks my heart. Sometimes, it’s difficult not to break down and cry. But I guess after a while, you get numb to it.  Most of us can open our refrigerator, take out some leftovers, and toss it into our microwave without thinking about it. I have someone close to me who would say, “It’s their fault; there are plenty of jobs out there. They’re just lazy.” I better stop there. Show some grace, people. The same grace that has been extended upon you.

Each food bag contains a protein, such as a tuna pack, Vienna sausages, or a can of Beanee Weenee, a cup of peanut butter, a cereal bar, peanut butter and crackers, oatmeal, a fruit cup or apple sauce, and a treat of some sort, typically a Little Debbie snack. We also give out feminine hygiene products, toilet paper and body wipes, toothpaste and toothbrushes, soap, shampoo, deodorant, and lotions if we’re lucky to get them. We also give out gently worn shoes and socks. We always run out of socks.

We departed for the Colonel House Motel on Triplett Street. Upon arrival, we found someone’s belongings had been stacked alongside the wall of the building belonging to Diamond Lanes across the street. In the past, we have been told that this is the result of someone being evicted who had nowhere else to store their belongings. Ironically, on the second-floor breezeway, a sleeping bag sprawled out on the concrete walkway tells a story. But the inhabitant was not there to tell it, as I was told they were “out for the day.” It was set up like a makeshift room with a table beside the sleeping bag. It makes one wonder if, while this individual could not pay to stay inside, they were allowed to sleep outside the room. I placed food bags under his pillow and other items I thought they might need, such as bottles of fresh water.

This location continues to decline.  Many doors remain permanently sealed; you see why when you peer through the unobstructed window. The rooms are destroyed and in disrepair, with no sign of any intention to make them halfway inhabitable like the few remaining rented rooms.  There might be fifteen people living there. We gave away the last of the food bags here.

The people who manage Lincolnshire Apartments on Peenbrooke Avenue contacted us to ask if we would include their 208 apartments on our route. This might be a good substitute for the declining Colonel House Motel. However, while several volunteers are willing to attend the Cadillac, for which we are incredibly grateful, few are eager to accompany us throughout the day. And because of that, I don’t see we have the people or the resources to add 400 mouths to feed. I’m just guessing an average of two people per apartment when, in reality, it’s probably way more than that. I’ve always said that God will provide the resources if you do God’s will. We’ll see. I do not doubt that with God, anything is possible.

We continued to our last scheduled stop, Dixiana Court. With our now depleted food supply, we offered what we had left over. One of the adult residents presented themselves without shoes. Given the shape of their feet, it was evident that they had not worn shoes for a while. Thankfully, we had a pair that fit. We handed out many hygiene products, as we still had a tote full of toothbrushes thanks to Friends of Sinners, a Christ-centered residential substance recovery program. We returned with about three totes and no food when it was all said and done. Not even a single can.

Is anyone wondering why we had so many cases of canned food? We held a magic show in exchange for nonperishables. James Barnette, a local escape artist, mentalist, and comedian, donated his time and resources to entertain guests at Encounter Community Church. On Saturday, August 3^rd, he entertained a crowd of about forty children and adults. Kevin Bruner from Bruner Collectables presented the kids with a bag full of foreign coins. Everyone seemed to have a great time, and we collected canned food—special thanks to James, his wife Season, and daughter Molly. Also, a big shout out to the church for quenching the stigma of “magic” and allowing us to use their space.

At this time of year, we collect anything that will keep humans warm—coats, jackets, hats, gloves, scarves, and, of course, shoes and socks. Gently used is just fine, if not preferred. Please so through your drawers and closets and bring in anything you can. It may be a long winter.

Would you like to volunteer? You could help put together food bags here in the shop, and you are welcome to join us out in the field on the last Saturday of any month. Call me (David) at (270) 314-5681.

All of the real names used here were with permission. Otherwise, the names have been changed. To protect the identity of those photographed, they have been blurred intentionally unless consent was given before publishing.