Last year, hundreds of people with no place of their own received a hot meal on Thanksgiving Day at OurCalling, a homeless ministry south of downtown.
This year, the faith-based, daytime outreach program is closed on Thanksgiving.
The reason? Since the coronavirus pandemic started, there’s been a dramatic drop in the number of volunteers available to work at the ministry. That means, employees are handling most of the duties that used to be done by volunteers.
So OurCalling’s employees are getting the day off on Thanksgiving. The plan was to serve turkey and fixings the three days before the holiday.
“Thanksgiving Day for the first time in our history will be a day that we will give our employees off to spend with their own families,” said Pastor Wayne Walker, OurCalling’s executive director.
Since the COVID-19 pandemic started, charities that help the poor and homeless have seen a sharp drop in volunteers even as they face greater demand for their services than ever. That’s to be expected when most volunteers come from an older demographic more at risk of severe illness from the virus.
That includes folks like Jimmy Weaver, who for six years has helped serve breakfast at The Bridge, a homeless recovery center near downtown where The Stewpot has served meals since 2008. The Stewpot, a ministry of First Presbyterian Church of Dallas, decided not to risk having volunteers after the pandemic started in March. The agency now mainly relies on paid staff to serve all the meals at The Bridge.
Weaver, 72, who’s retired and lives in Crandall, said he liked giving back to the community, but he also got something out of volunteering.
“Over the years, I’d made friends with quite a few of the homeless individuals. I just enjoy it,” Weaver said. “When it first happened, and we couldn’t go down there, I got a little depressed about it,” he said.
Thursday was always his day to volunteer, and he’ll miss going to The Bridge this Thanksgiving. “It was always a special meal. There’d be stuff that you didn’t normally have, like pancakes and bacon instead of some regular stuff they got.”
The Salvation Army’s traditional Thanksgiving Day meal will be limited to only its residential clients, according to a spokesman.
“The biggest change is that we will not be open to the community for lunch like we normally are for Thanksgiving,” said Kurt Watkins, the spokesman.
The meals to residents will be served in to-go containers “to avoid any risks with hosting meal service in the cafeteria,” Watkins said.
Nationwide problem
The absence of volunteers is a nationwide problem for programs that feed the needy.
Before COVID-19, Feeding America relied on two million volunteers at its 200 nationwide network of 200 food banks and 60,000 food pantries, including the North Texas Food Bank and the Tarrant Area Food Bank.
“We’ve seen an incredible, sustained, average increase in people showing up for food -- an average of 60 percent across the country,” said Katie Fitzgerald, chief operating officer of Feeding America. “On the other hand, we have experienced a sharp decline in the number of volunteers,” she said.
“People have made probably smart decisions about their own safety to not do that,” she said.
In a recent survey, Feeding America found that two-thirds of its 200 food banks reported they were not getting enough volunteers to keep pace with the increased work, Fitzgerald said.
In a typical year, the North Texas Food Bank relied on more than 40,000 volunteers to do most of its work. “Volunteers are the hearts and hands of our organization,” said Erica Yaeger, chief external affairs officer of the North Texas Food Bank.
Everything changed
But COVID-19 changed everything, and the food bank was left with only a few thousand volunteers -- not anywhere near the number needed. “We had to adapt quickly at the onset of COVID-19,” Yaeger said.
The old model was one where families in need shopped at one of 200 pantries all over North Texas. In March, the organization shifted to an assembly line model, where workers boxed up food that was then distributed to its pantries. The boxes are then put directly into the vehicles of folks who need the food to ensure more safety and social-distancing.
The North Texas Food Bank couldn’t have done all the work of boxing up food without the help of the Texas National Guard, dozens of whom have been staffing the assembly lines since April.
The food bank has also employed displaced hospitality workers to create the boxed meals. The workers are hired through a partnership between the flex-work firm Shiftsmart and the Communities Foundation of Texas.
“At a time when we didn’t have volunteers, we had extra muscle to ensure we could meet the elevated need,” Yaeger said. “Otherwise it would be a huge expense for the food bank to have to pay for the labor we’d ordinarily receive from our generous volunteers.”
As anyone who’s seen the miles-long line of cars waiting for food distributions at Fair Park knows, the need right now is huge: The North Texas Food Bank is giving out 10 million to 11 million meals monthly compared to 6 million meals a month this time last year.
That demand is likely to remain high for years.
“What we know from the 2008 recession is hunger and food insecurity tends to continue even after the economy recovers fully,” Feeding America’s Fitzgerald said.
We know for many people, it will take almost ten years to get to pre-pandemic levels of food security,” she said
National Guard leaving
The North Texas Food Bank, which services a 13-county area and nearly 100,000 households, is bracing for what happens at the end of the year, when the National Guard support is scheduled to finish up with the nonprofit.
“We’re experimenting everyday, including how we can bring volunteers back in a safe way at lower levels and still meet the increased needs in our community,” Yaeger said.
A few volunteers decided to stick it out and even, in some cases, put in more hours.
Jill Mendenhall and her husband Max Chesser started volunteering at the North Texas Food bank after the Frisco residents retired from Frito-Lay almost three years ago.
Before COVID, they worked two-and-half days every week -- about 18 hours. They now work Monday through Friday, 8 a.m to 4:30 p.m. -- except Tuesday afternoon when Mendenhall has bible study at her church.
Their reasoning, Mendenhall said, was simple.
“When the COVID hit, we wanted to do something. We wanted to help our brothers and sisters in some way,” she said.
“I’m not a nurse or a doctor. I’m not a first-responder. This is what we can do,” she said.
As for the risk, she prayed about it, she said. “I said, ‘Lord, if you keep us healthy, we’ll serve.’ "
Of course, she doesn’t rely on faith alone when she heads to the Plano packing facility.
“We follow every precaution. Everyone is in a mask. We try to keep in mind social distancing. Everybody has their temperature check when they come in.”
On Thanksgiving, they plan to take the day off. Eat turkey. Go for a long walk. And knowing a lot of folks are hurting right now, they’ll count their blessings.
Then it’s back to the food bank to box up meals for those in need.
