On Friday, 12-17-04, I had the great privilege of accompanying a group from the Zion Revival Center on a mission to distribute clothing and food to the homeless in Chicago.
Our journey started at the Center in Zion, IL. One group sorted donated clothing. I helped boil water and make sandwiches. And another group loaded the bus.
Like the water I had just boiled, the bus ride to Chicago was bubbling with the laughter and chatter of young people, singing, and the linked conversations of people with a common goal.
Our first stop was lower Wacker Drive. Veterans of this trip commented that there were usually many more homeless in this area. They also noticed the new, wrought iron fences which now blocked many of the warmer areas where the homeless liked to live.
From a Chicago Tribune article, I later learned that the city of Chicago spent between $300,000 to $400,000 of Homeland Security money building these fences on lower Wacker Drive. It was obvious that night that, number one, these fences would never keep terrorists out, and, number two, that many of the homeless quickly found ways to get through the fences. This article also talked about frequent police sweeps. While driving down Wacker, I was told that the homeless formed groups to protect their belongings and at least one homeless person had to stay with their blankets at all times or city employees would collect them and throw them away.
In about the middle of lower Wacker Drive, we spotted piles of blankets and belongings. At first, we had to approach them. And then when the word got out that a church group had arrived, others came out and approached us.
Yes, I could smell alcohol on a few them. But the majority were clear of speech and vision. If anything affected their speech, it had to be the cold and hunger they felt. Most of them were men, but there some women among them. Thankfully, I saw no children.
We handed out gloves, hats, blankets, coats, and food. Their eyes widened and their voices rose when they discovered we had "hot" soup. And frequently, when I told them we had hot soup, they repeated it back to me, "you have hot soup?"
Besides food, the most frequently requested item was an extra large winter coat. The irony of this was that when they came near us we could see that they were already wearing a couple of coats. But it quickly dawned on me that for them to get any warmer, they needed an even larger winter coat to wear over the coats they were already wearing.
There was only one man who waved me away when I came near. His speech was clear and his eyes steady. His friend sat only a few feet away and gladly accepted our food. Making sure I hadn't misunderstood, I again asked the man if he would like some food or clothing. He politely said, "no thanks." I'm guessing his pride wouldn't allow him to accept charity. And knowing that he deserved my respect, I had to accept his answer, and in case he changed his mind, I slowly walked away.
Another man appeared to be too ill to get up. Several people went to him instead. What must it be like to be ill, cold, and sleeping on concrete?
After taking a sip of hot soup, one homeless man asked me, "how often are you going to bring food down here?" I sadly admitted that it was just a once a year trip.
Our journey started at the Center in Zion, IL. One group sorted donated clothing. I helped boil water and make sandwiches. And another group loaded the bus.
Like the water I had just boiled, the bus ride to Chicago was bubbling with the laughter and chatter of young people, singing, and the linked conversations of people with a common goal.
Our first stop was lower Wacker Drive. Veterans of this trip commented that there were usually many more homeless in this area. They also noticed the new, wrought iron fences which now blocked many of the warmer areas where the homeless liked to live.
From a Chicago Tribune article, I later learned that the city of Chicago spent between $300,000 to $400,000 of Homeland Security money building these fences on lower Wacker Drive. It was obvious that night that, number one, these fences would never keep terrorists out, and, number two, that many of the homeless quickly found ways to get through the fences. This article also talked about frequent police sweeps. While driving down Wacker, I was told that the homeless formed groups to protect their belongings and at least one homeless person had to stay with their blankets at all times or city employees would collect them and throw them away.
In about the middle of lower Wacker Drive, we spotted piles of blankets and belongings. At first, we had to approach them. And then when the word got out that a church group had arrived, others came out and approached us.
Yes, I could smell alcohol on a few them. But the majority were clear of speech and vision. If anything affected their speech, it had to be the cold and hunger they felt. Most of them were men, but there some women among them. Thankfully, I saw no children.
We handed out gloves, hats, blankets, coats, and food. Their eyes widened and their voices rose when they discovered we had "hot" soup. And frequently, when I told them we had hot soup, they repeated it back to me, "you have hot soup?"
Besides food, the most frequently requested item was an extra large winter coat. The irony of this was that when they came near us we could see that they were already wearing a couple of coats. But it quickly dawned on me that for them to get any warmer, they needed an even larger winter coat to wear over the coats they were already wearing.
There was only one man who waved me away when I came near. His speech was clear and his eyes steady. His friend sat only a few feet away and gladly accepted our food. Making sure I hadn't misunderstood, I again asked the man if he would like some food or clothing. He politely said, "no thanks." I'm guessing his pride wouldn't allow him to accept charity. And knowing that he deserved my respect, I had to accept his answer, and in case he changed his mind, I slowly walked away.
Another man appeared to be too ill to get up. Several people went to him instead. What must it be like to be ill, cold, and sleeping on concrete?
After taking a sip of hot soup, one homeless man asked me, "how often are you going to bring food down here?" I sadly admitted that it was just a once a year trip.
As the bus took off, we spotted a man we had already helped lying on the sidewalk. His blanket shook as he shivered underneath it.
We traveled up to the street level and stopped at a corner. At my age, I realize the world isn't fair, but it still struck me as ironic that there was a Mercedes-Benz car dealership less than a block away and a BMW car dealership just a couple of blocks away.
As I stepped off the bus I realized it was much colder at the street level. I suddenly understood why the homeless migrated to the underground where it is warmer.
A woman, probably in her early 60s, wearing a thin T-shirt, pants, and shoes came up to the back of the bus looking for a winter coat. I felt colder just looking at her. As warmly as I was dressed, I could tolerate maybe 15 or 20 minutes out in the cold and wind before I had to retreat into the warmth of the bus. We took turns like that until late that night.
The members of the Zion Revival Center had come prepared. They gave out a lot of clothing and a lot of food. But I found myself wishing that we had a semi-truck full of food and clothing, or even 10 semi-trucks.
The bus ride back to Zion was quiet. Everyone was happy but tired. Some quickly fell asleep.
We traveled up to the street level and stopped at a corner. At my age, I realize the world isn't fair, but it still struck me as ironic that there was a Mercedes-Benz car dealership less than a block away and a BMW car dealership just a couple of blocks away.
As I stepped off the bus I realized it was much colder at the street level. I suddenly understood why the homeless migrated to the underground where it is warmer.
A woman, probably in her early 60s, wearing a thin T-shirt, pants, and shoes came up to the back of the bus looking for a winter coat. I felt colder just looking at her. As warmly as I was dressed, I could tolerate maybe 15 or 20 minutes out in the cold and wind before I had to retreat into the warmth of the bus. We took turns like that until late that night.
The members of the Zion Revival Center had come prepared. They gave out a lot of clothing and a lot of food. But I found myself wishing that we had a semi-truck full of food and clothing, or even 10 semi-trucks.
The bus ride back to Zion was quiet. Everyone was happy but tired. Some quickly fell asleep.
We arrived back at the Center, unloaded the bus, and then went our separate ways.
I spent the night at Sue and Ken's house in a warm bed. In the morning, thanks to Ken, there was hot coffee ready for me when I got up. I ran outside, started my car, and ran back inside so that the car would be warm when I drove home.
When I arrived home, the dogs seemed friendlier, the house seemed warmer, the Christmas tree lights brighter, and my vision more focused.
When I arrived home, the dogs seemed friendlier, the house seemed warmer, the Christmas tree lights brighter, and my vision more focused.
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