Letter on lessons learned at a bedside in Wilmington

Last month photos appeared in the news of families here carrying food supplies donated by Feed The Children. You and I know there are stories behind those photos that must be heard. I came to Wilmington to hear them.

That wasn’t easy at first. Most folks here are in a bit of a state of shock, and naturally reticent with outsiders. Conversation does not flow smoothly or freely but is more like a river choked with debris that takes sudden awkward lurches to keep going.

Allen Willoughby gradually opened up with us. He is the founder of Sugartree Ministries, which has gone from feeding lunch to 100 people three times a week, to now providing lunch and dinner for more than 200 folks six days a week—on a budget of $130,000 a year and with meal donations by 26 churches.

Sugartree’s office is a former silicon chip factory purchased by the Buckley Bros Feed Grain company and leased to Sugartree, which converted most of it into coffee house, food pantry, twelve-step program for addicts, and music studio. In the back they share a warehouse with Buckley Bros. Large bags marked “Swine Feed” and “Race Horse Oats” sit alongside pallets of crackers and Bisquick donated to help families with kids. Birds flit by inside as we talk and Allen shrugs, saying “Can’t be avoided with all of the animal food in here.”

Allen personifies “gentle giant,” a large man in blue jeans and untucked shirt, with buzz-cut blond hair growing out. He punctuates every sentence with an ear-to-ear smile. He was a regional sales rep for McGraw Hill, selling textbooks to schools until opening Sugartree 10 years ago, to ” help young guys who have problems, addictions, whatever.” He was sweeping the floor when we walked in.

“A high percentage of the people we originally served are disabled or have mental health problems. Many had drug problems 15 years ago and have felony records that make it impossible to get a job. Now all of these other people who have worked all of their lives are coming here. Some of the new ones are shy; they call and ask what we’re serving for dinner before deciding whether to come. Some call the public schools to ask for help. You know they are novices if they’re calling the schools.

“We haven’t seen the worst yet, but I don’t think people realize that,” Allen continues. They still have severance pay until June, so they are not really dealing with it yet. I don’t think they have any idea how hard it is going to get,” says Allen.

The county is 70 percent Republican. Despite desperate need, we don’t meet many fans of the Obama Administration, or of government help. Even the end aisle display at the bookstore on Main street is a testament to self-reliance, line with volumes of “How to Build Small Barns and Outhouses,” “The Ultimate Guide to Barns and Sheds,” and “Timber Frame Construction.”

“60 Minutes did a story and told us to prepare for a lot of support coming in. It brought about $8000 to $9000,” Allen explained. We asked if any major corporation or foundation had stepped in. “No, nothing like that. No wait, Kroger gave us a truckload of food, and SYSCO plans to help. The city gave $35,000 to Sugartree to renovate. $35,000 is like a billion to us,” Allen says, wide-eyed.

We also visited the shelter run by the Clinton County Service for the Homeless. 34 beds and filled to capacity, well kept, in a quiet residential neighborhood. A lot of Americans might be surprised to find a homeless shelter here in the middle of farmland settled originally by Quakers who maintain a heavy presence in town.

Our brief time in Wilmington helped me see three things more clearly.

First, the population of those in need of assistance is not only growing rapidly, but changing dramatically. Record numbers of Americans who always worked hard enough to get by are finding themselves with nowhere to turn for the first time in their lives. Most have no experience navigating the system. Not just in Wilmington. Every day there are newspaper articles from around the country about lines forming for assistance. And not just about hunger, but also for health care, housing, employment and numerous other services.

Second, philanthropy needs to be bolder in response to this economic catastrophe. The distinctive nature of the current crisis is that most foundations, nonprofits, and institutions that usually step up when economic and political markets fail, now have financial troubles of their own. Their assets have shrunk, and their donations are down. Like everyone else they are paralyzed not knowing when or where the economy will bottom out and begin to turn.

But a crucial role for philanthropy is to take risks that other sectors like government and business are not in a position to take. Foundations and philanthropists may need to put previously well thought-out strategies and priorities on hold for awhile in order to help alleviate the unprecedented pain gripping our nation. A few large foundations have admirably announced that despite their losses they will pay out in grants the same amount or more than they did last year. But it is only a few.

Doctors don’t wait and watch their patients get sicker before deciding whether and when to treat them. If those of us in the civic sector become so pre-occupied with protecting our own organizations that we can’t take risks on behalf of others who are much worse off, and who we were created to assist, then economic issues will be the least of our nation’s problems. Business as usual is not an option.

Third, while I wish we could do much more than simply bear witness — and we will find a way to do more—I know that we must continue to do at least that. While exchanging e-mails from Wilmington with my friend Parker Palmer, a wonderful educator and writer, he told me “your mission there —to listen and learn so you can respond — reminds me of sitting at the bedside of a dying person, listening rather than fixing, and saying with your presence, ‘I am not afraid of being present to you on this journey’. A listening presence of the sort you exercised there is the only way to get that debris-clogged river of conversation and community moving again, moving toward healing.”

Wilmington, Ohio is hurting but not dying. For every need we saw, we also found strength and resilience. The gratitude expressed for our visit was reminiscent of the way we were received in New Orleans in the weeks and months after Katrina, and underscores Parker Palmer’s wisdom. If nothing else let’s not be afraid of being present, now, to those who need us.