Good Samaritan’s Dream Will Provide Free Food : ‘Blind Faith’ Builds Cannery for Needy

FRESNO —  A “blind faith,” $3-million cannery for the needy--under construction in the capital of the nation’s richest farming region--is being built with salvaged materials, volunteer labor and the stubborn determination of a “hard-headed Swede” who hates to see anything wasted.

The 20,000-square-foot cannery could be completed as early as next year and will be capable of producing up to 50,000 cans of food a day, all destined for free distribution to the homeless and needy of America.

The “miracle” cannery is the dream of James Johnson, 42, who says he suffered a heart attack 15 years ago and didn’t think he would live much longer. A devout Catholic, he decided to devote his life to helping the poor and adopted St. Anthony--who dreamed of feeding all the world--as his patron saint.

Noting that tons of good produce and crops are thrown away each year by local canneries and packing sheds simply because they are undersize or blemished, Johnson began his lonely campaign for a cannery for the poor more than a decade ago.

“All of the waste, it’s just incredible,” Johnson said, referring to the amount of food thrown away by fresh produce packing houses or rotting in government surplus storage buildings.

His first break came in 1980, when a small plot of land was donated in Fresno’s southwest industrial section. In 1984, construction got under way when 3,000 cubic yards of dirt were trucked into the site and a foundation laid with the help of Seabees from nearbly Lemoore Naval Air Station.

Local businesses began responding with equipment, materials and labor. A major California cannery donated canning equipment and supplies and offered technical assistance. A railroad even donated seven refrigerator boxcars.

Johnson incorporated a nonprofit foundation, St. Anthony’s Bread Basket, which has 20 board members. He estimates that more than 800 people have participated in supplying materials or labor.

Where did all the material for his cannery come from?

“We scrounge,” Johnson admitted.

If a train derails, or a truck overturns, Johnson is on the phone wanting to know if he can salvage any of the materials. Any time he passes a construction site, he stops to know if there are any materials the builder plans to throw away. With his quiet sense of humor, he pesters local businesses constantly.

Carpenters temporarily out of work spend a few days on the cannery construction job.

Not content with just a cannery, Johnson also has launched a second project to convert old cargo containers from ships into temporary housing modules for the homeless.

A bachelor, he scrapes a meager living by creating stained-glass artwork but spends seven days a week watching his cannery rise, working on the housing modules or scavenging for materials.

He is proud that not a dime of government money or funding from Establishment charitable organizations has gone into the project.

“I hope that I’ve planted a seed to show what other communities can do if they just put their minds to it,” he said.

He frets that he needs a nearby warehouse for storage and is fearful he may not get it. There’s one thing he’s not good at, he admits. He can raise a building, but he doesn’t know how to raise money.