It was a hot Houston August summer afternoon in 1994. I was the Assistant Executive Director of the Houston JCC and part of my job was supervising the Senior Adult Department. We had the contract for the Area Agency on Aging meal service and were responsible for feeding a majority of the elderly living in the Southwest part of Houston. As is typical in Houston in August we were in the middle of a thunder storm which had already dumped about half an inch of rain. The roads and the bayous were flooding and many of our volunteers could not get to the JCC to collect their delivery meals.
My Senior Adult staff had picked up many of the routes of the volunteers who could not get out of their houses, and with many more routes to be serviced I then collect my two dozen packaged meals and started my delivery journey. Already the roads were scary, water every where some branches down and quite a few accidents. It was my first three deliveries and the street upon which I needed to travel was closed. Two policemen had their car parked blocking the street. Turn back they said the street is flooded. I, dressed in my suit and fancy shoes, got out of the car carrying the the three bags of lunches for the seniors. It was Friday and on that day we provided a meal for Saturday also. Go back the police demanded this road is closed. I was standing outside my car, my feet covered in a huge puddle of water, my suit drenched but I stood there pleading with the police to let me at least walk down the street to deliver my meals. I am delivering meals I said, if these three people don’t get them, I am not sure they will have anything to eat until next Monday. The police looked at me then the white plastic bags and both said in unison, good man, but go at your own risk. I did.
Sitting in the dark in their living/dining room were the individuals waiting patiently for someone to deliver them some food. The first lady reluctantly opened the door not recognizing me but noticing the white bags. She let me in slowly grabbing the bag and thanked me, thanked me, thanked me. I was ready to just to be hungry she said. The second lady, let me in asked me to place the bags on her counter. She then said she was unable to open the lids of the meals would I please do so for her. She pointed to a room, her kitchen and said there is a knife would I please cut both meals in half give her one quarter and place the three other halves in the refrigerator. I opened the fridge and all I saw was the left over of yesterdays meal, which had also been cut in quarters. The third lady was quite excited to see me. She asked if I would sit and just talk to her for about 10 minutes. She told me that she waits with eagerness for the volunteer to come by as that is the only time she has company. The food was substinance for her physical need, the conversation was food for her brain.
The storm got worse and I found myself climbing out of my car, standing in ankle deep water, delivering meals to people who prayed that even in this horrible weather they would receive their meal. Some people were humble, some angry because I was late, some said very little, some didn’t want me to leave. I started the delivery at 11:00 and did not return to work until 5:30. During the drive I was wound up, worried more about getting there safely and anxious to deliver all the meals. During the delivery I put aside any emotion or actual event of meeting the seniors and concentrated on getting the deed done.
When I got home, I realized how wet my shoes were and how ruined my fancy schmancy suit was. My body felt cold and I was sure it was the damp rain against the wool of my suit. I undressed, took a warm shower knowing that once dried and out of those clothes I would warm up. I stood under the water of the shower for half an hour, it seemed the water just didn’t warm me up. I stepped out of the shower, dried my body, but the towel didn’t seem to warm me either. I changed into jeans and a fresh new T-shirt, but somehow was still uncomfortable. My stomach growled, I realized i hadn’t eaten anything since I started my meal delivery. I found some left overs but when the plate was in front of me I was not hungry. I thought I had a headache, but after taking aspirin I still hurt. I realized my head didn’t hurt, but rather it was something deeper in my body.
I was no hero, but had I not delivered those meals at least 24 human beings might not have had a meal for two days. I was no hero but had I not made contact with at least 12 human beings they would have spent the next three days in total isolation. I was no hero but had I not delivered those meals I would have never known what hunger, poverty, loneliness, look like and feels like. I was no hero all I was, was one person impacted by and impacting another human beings life.
We are told mainly by the Republican/Tea Party politicians that Entitlement Programs are evil. We are told that lazy, useless, UnAmerican like shysters are profiting from Entitlement programs. We are told that austerity will bring a brighter future to fruition and that all that the Entitlement Programs do is diminish the promise of America. We are told by men and women who have never delivered a meal to a hungry person, who have never watched a an ill person struggle to thrive, who preach a Gospel but have never read the Bible that helping, assisting, sharing is a bad thing.
In 1994 I experienced how some human beings needed a village to survive. In 1994 I experienced how having even a bit of something is so much better then living with nothing. It is 2013 and all I see from the men and women calling themselves Republican/Tea Party Christian patriots are only empty, self serving selfish creeps who have never ever witnessed real life. I hear talk of the Sequester all the cut backs and my mind races to the human beings I met on that rainy awful Houston August day. I can’t imagine how they survived or do survive!
