My Sunday dinner at Salvation Army

By Louise Horton

As I walk into the Salvation Army gym at 386 Broad Street on a rainy Sunday for the 4:30pm supper, a man chases after me with a free ticket; “You need a ticket if you want to eat!”

As we wait for our food, a gentleman tells a story about a man who didn’t think he had any blessings-only complaints, but on reflection, he found out he had many blessings. Then, in a clear, deep voice, he sings: “Count your blessings and thank God for the food.” Many diners say “Amen.”

The meal is two hot dogs, baked beans, green beans, two slices of bread and four halves of canned pears. We sit at tables with blue or yellow tablecloths and are served with full plates and cold drinks.

Soon, trash cans are circulated. A man puts most of his meal in the can, then raises two fingers. He gets a second meal and asks to have it wrapped. When all have been served, a second plate is offered. Bread to take out is distributed from the rear.

An elderly man is ill, and a worker with a security badge calls a rescue vehicle. The truck arrives promptly and the fireman says he will be taken to the hospital, along with his companion.

I ask Robert, who manages the meal, how long he has worked here. Robert says he has worked here for eleven years and arrives at 9:00am on Sunday morning. He points his wife out to me. She has volunteered here for fifteen years. As we are talking, the tables are being folded, but another hungry man comes in and Robert calls out to the kitchen: “Match that man up with a meal!”

I leave the gym at 5:30pm. In an hour, Crossroads will open for the night.