KENNEWICK — It’s hard to relax when someone is experiencing homelessness. The stress and stigma of being unhoused compound health issues and make it harder for people to address the challenges they’re facing.
That’s why one group of Tri-Cities volunteers works to create a place for people in the homeless community to share a meal and relax free of judgment for a few hours each week.
Every Wednesday for the past two years a group of women have come together to cook and serve meals to people who are either unhoused or struggling to remain afloat.
Typically they’ll start at Keewaydin Park in Kennewick and then head to a second location across town.
This service has led to an environment where people are comfortable enough to be themselves, relax and recuperate for just a short while.
They’re always happy, and ready, to direct someone to additional services if they get comfortable enough to ask for help, but that’s not why they do this. They just want to show the people they serve that someone cares about them.
Breathing room
That small act of compassion can make a huge difference for someone who is constantly being looked down on or run off.
Chance Senn told the Herald that while there are a lot of groups out there who try to help, not all of them do it unconditionally.
“Probably the biggest part is that while we’re here we have some kind of peace. We have fellowship, family, comradery. (We’re treated like) equals,” Senn said.
“I can finally sit down and take a breath. It makes a huge difference because most of the time people think the homeless, that that’s all we do is sit back and relax, we don’t do anything. ‘It’s easy.’ It’s not easy.”
Cindy Fish and Lana Franklin are part of the main group of volunteers. They have about 10 women who come out weekly, and many others helping behind the scenes. Most didn’t know each other before responding to a request for volunteers.
“I started helping out off and on, and that’s how I met Cindy. All of this was Facebook, we didn’t really know each other,” Franklin said. “We’re not part of any specific church. We’re just moms and grandmas who wanted to serve.”
They also have other volunteers who contribute with food or utensil donations, some who help with clothing and toiletries and others who bake goodies. In all, there are more than two dozen people coming together just to help.
“The biggest thing is, that these are people’s loved ones. They’re their kids, they’re their family members. They’re just down on their luck,” Franklin said. “I have friends and family that have friends and family that are out here, and I can’t just not do something.”
Senn said they always feel welcome and supported, that’s why he and others keep coming back.
“They don’t just bring food. They sit down and talk to you about who you are and why you’re out here,” he said. “I feel like they’re actually fully into becoming family rather than just doing it for a tax return or something like that.”
Growing need
Since the dinner became a regular, weekly effort two years ago, the number of people they help feed has grown from about a dozen to more than 80 each week.
It’s not just people experiencing homelessness, they also help feed low income seniors and people who are at risk of losing their housing.
“It’s like twofold sometimes, there’s a sadness with it, but then it’s a good thing because they trust us and more people are willing to come and speak with us,” Fish said. “Not only are we trying to feed them, we’re trying to build relationships and possibly help them take steps into treatment or housing. It’s just not so simple.”
Chris Klein told the Herald he’s been a regular at the weekly dinner, because the group makes him feel valued.
“They’ve been awesome, they do a lot for us,” Klein said. “It absolutely helps, it helps a lot. They’ve all got big hearts and do their best to take care of us.”
Fish said that most of the people they help are just trying to get by. Many have had bad luck or became homeless or addicted to drugs while trying to cope with trauma.
She doesn’t think that they’ll magically change lives, but knows they can work to help people feel loved and safe enough to eventually ask for help. For many of the women, they’re simply living their faith.
“We all serve the Lord and that’s our number one thing, and we’re trying to make a difference in these people’s lives,” Fish said.
“A good portion of them have had a lot of hard luck in their lives, a lot from an early age,” she said. “Some learned to cope with life with drugs and didn’t learn anything different. So I feel like maybe if they’re given tools, they’ll be able to make changes.”
Fish said that anyone interested in getting involved can just show up to the park for the meal, which is at 4 p.m. on Wednesdays.
Real impact
The reality is though that not everyone will get the help they need.
Senn said that while there is some help out there, resources for help with chronic mental illness can be hard to find, or isn’t always accessible for people struggling. It can be even harder to maintain care when your primary concern is finding a safe place to sleep at night.
“Mental health is definitely a killer. I’ve had my share of mental health problems,” Senn said. “I’m a very hard worker, but sometimes I can’t get myself to (ask for help) because I feel like I’ll be a burden. It’s hard.”
Fish said she hopes people will see a different side of those struggling with homelessness and addiction. She hopes they’ll see that these people need community and support, rather than being ostracized or feared.
The group has been discussing creating a memorial for the people who have died while homeless in the Tri-Cities area. Seeing that love and care reminds the people they work with that these women see them.
“In loving memory of our friend.”
In a recent weekly pamphlet with information about places to get dinner or services, they included a remembrance of a man they served who died recently, James “Jimbo” Hurd, with a photo of him one of the volunteers had taken.
In the photo Hurd is sitting in the grass at the park, smiling. Beside him is one of the paper bags of snacks the ladies pass out each week.
It’s a small moment of humanity for a man who was a member of a community often treated as less than, and a reminder for the women that the work they do matters.
