HOMELESS ENJOY FEAST ON ONE DECENT EVENING
By Marc Fisher
Washington Post Staff Writer
Thursday, December 25, 1986
; Page B01
Sheets of rain swept across the concrete plaza as they straggled in,
Leonard Austin and Fletcher Jones and hundreds more men and women who heard on
the street that someone was going to make a Christmas for them.
From shelters and doorways, parks and tunnels, Washington's homeless
converged on the Hubert H. Humphrey Building, headquarters of the U.S.
Department of Health and Human Services. Last night's feast for the city's
homeless was no government program. Rather, it was an effort by hundreds of
volunteers, more than 60 local restaurants and the Community for Creative
Non-Violence to make what could be the most miserable time of year into one
decent evening.
Austin said he read about the free meal in the paper yesterday.
"It's surely a wonderful thing," said Austin, 23, who came to Washington
from Houston a month ago, looking for work, following a girlfriend who had
already moved on. Now he spends his time at Union Station. He calls it his
home.
"Every day I go to Travelers Aid there. They help me a whole lot. I think I
found work for starting Monday, stockboy. I hope. But I'm having a good time
while I can. I've been wanting to see the White House and the Capitol all my
life. They are real beautiful."
Austin sat down to a dinner of turkey, stuffing, sweet potatoes, rice,
bread, gravy and greens. And then another plate of same. And an even bigger
plate of cookies and cakes. But before he and his tablemates dove in, Austin
called over a volunteer.
"We can't start," he said. "This is Christmas, we should have someone say a
blessing." The volunteer suggested that Austin lead a blessing for the men at
his table. Austin bowed his head and mumbled something. This, he said between
the turkey and the cookies, is a fine Christmas.
It was the most ambitious Christmas yet for the Community for Creative
Non-Violence, which held its first Christmas Eve dinner for the homeless in a
church basement eight years ago. Last night, Mitch Snyder's group filled the
Great Hall of the Humphrey Building at the foot of the Capitol on Independence
Avenue SW with two lines of food for about 1,000 people. They ate 1,300 pounds
of turkey, 700 pounds of ham, 700 pounds of barbecued chicken and short ribs
and table after table of vegetables and side dishes.
There were some especially elegant items along the way. Maison Blanche, an
expense-account kind of place where dinners cost $40 per person, donated "ham
with raisin sauce, green beans, grapes and money," said restaurateur Tony
Greco. "And my chef and my family are here to serve."
Dominique D'Ermo, whose fancy restaurant bears his first name, gave 200
turkeys and money for a new Chevy pickup that local restaurants gave to
Snyder. The group will use the truck to collect food and clothing for the
homeless.
"This is the first year we have gotten together to do this, so that these
people can have a good meal," D'Ermo said. "I don't think in a country like
America this should have to happen. Our government is so busy giving money to
Iranians that sometimes we forget what's going on in our own country."
Budget Director James Miller III announced yesterday that the Reagan
administration will propose a $100 million program next year to assist the
homeless. To Snyder, it is still too little.
"The administration has finally acknowledged there is a federal
responsibility, but we are going to have to move far beyond $100 million," he
said.
Adrianne Potter, a 13-year-old from Dumfries, said it will take more than
money to help the homeless. Potter spends every Friday night, from 7 p.m. to 7
a.m., at the Capitol with Snyder, talking to the homeless who huddle around
steam grates.
"I've given up a lot of parties to do this," she said. "People look at the
homeless like they're different and they're not. I met a homeless person named
Bishop and he's really nice. People would be afraid of him if they just saw
him on the street, but he's really nice and it's really terrible that he has
to sleep on the grate. It just breaks my heart."
Fletcher Jones is a smiling 56-year-old man, with a well-kept
salt-and-pepper mustache and encyclopedic knowledge of the city's journalists
and politicians. He has lived in shelters and on the streets for 10 years and
spends much of his time at congressional hearings.
"My best Christmas was the year before last in Lafayette Park," he said.
"We had a lot of tourists, a good cross-section of people. It was the first
time a lot of us saw that people are interested in the homeless. I'm from a
working-class Christian family and I never knew until I was homeless how many
people there were who were in this situation, this standing still without
hope. I've known men so hopeless they killed themselves. So I'm blessed, so to
speak."
Finished with his meal, Jones collected his present from a room brimming
with gift-wrapped shirts, longjohns and other underwear. He ripped open the
red and green paper, stuffed the gift in his coat pocket, tucked his head down
and stepped out into the driving rain, on Christmas Eve.
Articles appear as they were originally printed in The Washington
Post and may not include subsequent corrections.
Return to Search Results