“We don’t turn nobody away,” declares the Reverend Freddie Henderson. “I always tell people they shouldn’t be ashamed of being on aid. At least they have something. There have been times when I didn’t know where my next meal was coming from. I’ve been hungry myself. I don’t forget.”
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The people in the community are Polish, Lithuanian, Bohemian, Arab, Puerto Rican, and black. They enter, two or three at a time, sign their names, and move through the sanctuary into the back room of the church, where volunteers are loading up and handing out the bags. Each contains one bag of flour, one of cornmeal, two packages of dried egg mix, two slabs of butter, a can of pork, a can of pork and beans, one box of raisins, one can of peanut butter, and two bottles of honey.
If you didn’t know it was there, you might miss the Spirit of Faith Church. A one-story brick building painted white with red trim, it sits unassumingly amid the brick bungalows that line the streets. Originally a firehouse, the building was being used as a garage for stolen cars to be stripped when the church moved in three years ago. “There were auto parts all over the place,” Henderson remarks.
By 11 AM, the volunteers need more bags of flour and cornmeal, stacked on a nearby table. By 11:30, the butter and honey are running out; only one slab and one bottle are now placed in each bag. By the time the distribution is over, at noon, over 100 people have passed through the church to pick up food.
Art accompanying story in printed newspaper (not available in this archive): photos/Jon Randolph.
