Street Prophets is located at the intersection of religion and politics. And today’s photo diary is literally at that intersection.
We took the exit from I-70 into one of the more distressed areas of Kansas City. Just about a block later, we turned into an alley and found this hive of activity. Trucks would be ready to roll out in an hour, but it was taking a full crew to prep for the evening’s run.
I had been here a couple of times before to drop off food, but this would be my first time out on a route. My friends Barb and Mary have been doing this for more than five years, one Saturday evening each month. I tire easily, to the point where it can be unsafe for me to drive late in the day, so my contributions so far have been supplying food and clothes. But I had lunch with Mary last Saturday, and I felt well enough that I asked if I could accompany them this one time.
One van had to be unloaded before it could be filled for the evening route. Someone had donated a very large number of pairs of canvas shoes. I mean a seriously large number. They were all the same style, so it must have been the end-of-season overruns or irregulars.
There are special times designated for volunteers who want to help sort donations into the bins. Clothes are sorted by size. The biggest needs are for men’s jeans and shorts, sizes 32 and 34. There weren’t a lot of large people who are homeless and food insecure. The warehouse is almost always devoid of boxer shorts in those sizes, and of men’s white cotton socks, so that’s what I try to buy when I can.
So now we were an hour into the evening and just about ready to leave. Because Barb and Mary have been doing this for so many years, they are grandfathered in and have their time reserved. There are so many volunteers, at least in the summer, that most other people are rotated through. So there was a very brief meeting just before departing. The organizer stressed meeting people with care and compassion, not judgment. They may be drunk or high. They will still be served. They may have mental issues; be compassionate. Be respectful and affirming. Be friendly and cheerful.
There are usually five people on the truck; I made the sixth, but I was just taking pictures and not serving people. There was the driver, Tim; Mary was in the passenger seat and did paperwork; Barb was in the back and gave out food. A man was at the side door to handle the bags of requests, and to give out the other items from the bins. His high school-aged son went to the back and gave out the cups of lemonade to go with the dinners.
After the vans got back to the warehouse, the evening wasn’t over. Vans had to be unloaded, Serving equipment had to be cleaned. And the volunteers sorted out the requests they had received, and tagged and shelved them, ready to go out on Monday’s route.
The trucks go out Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Our route served 68 people this evening, which is less than usual. Often it’s closer to 80 on this route, and the bigger routes can serve maybe 120 or so in an evening.
It’s shameful that this is necessary in a country as rich as this one. It’s a blessing that people will step up to help.