Feast or Famine : Volunteers Make Turkey Day Special for Homeless

There was so much free-flowing turkey in the Valley on Thanksgiving that one homeless man from Hansen Dam Recreation Center in Lake View Terrace shrugged off a heaping plate because his stomach was so stuffed by noon.

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Thousands of hungry folks, some on fixed incomes that allow no space for a Thanksgiving binge, others with no families of their own, flocked to shelters, churches and even a self-help center to get a few free scoops of mashed potatoes or a slice of sweet potato pie.

And on a different note--but in the same helping mood--some students in Woodland Hills set up their own “Animal Farm” as a form of entertainment for a hotel banquet.

But for the most part, tradition reigned as the usual foods--turkey, dressing, cranberry sauce and piping hot rolls--were piled up on plates from Pacoima to San Fernando to Glendale.

In Pacoima, local residents and members of the Seventh-day Adventist Church opened the church doors to hundreds of food-seekers. Extra tables were placed in the church’s dining hall to accommodate the visitors.

The 1974 death of a heroin-addicted young son fresh from Vietnam prompted organizer Jane McGlory to lobby the Boys & Girls Club of the San Fernando Valley, in Pacoima, and others to start a Thanksgiving meal at her church 10 years ago. Last year alone, McGlory said, she served 1,200 people.

While McGlory greeted guests and floor general Pauline Williams shouted out orders to chefs in the kitchen and food servers behind the tables, 40-year-old Clement Holder was hopping in his van to find homeless people to take back to the church.

Holder said he slips his van through back alleys and parks on Thanksgiving because he knows many homeless people need meals, but are unwilling to leave their shopping cart-homes for fear someone will steal their possessions.

That’s why Holder packed up a few box lunches and headed back out when some refused to come. The extra drive was worth it.

“They [homeless people] wish every day was Thanksgiving,” he said, wheeling the van back onto the freeway. “They always say they wish people would do this more often.”

Karen (Stallion) Bridgers, the self-described mistress of Hansen Dam, said nowadays more homeless people like herself are looking forward to turkey day, which usually provides one of their best meals of the year. And when it comes to free food disguised by a holiday, Bridgers’ stomach is open for suggestions.

“Around here it’s either feast or famine.” she said, laughing. “We’re like squirrels when it comes to meals, we just take ‘em and run back up our trees.”

When he rolled slowly into a parking lot at Hansen Dam, Holder found 29-year-old Berta Mejia and her three children--boys 5 and 8, and a 5-month-old girl, Mary Elizabeth--stuffed into a van. The mention of a ride to free food was like music to son Mauricio’s ears. He quickly searched through the pile of clothes and empty food containers in the van to find a matching pair of shoes.

And like the integrated neighborhood that surrounds it, the Pacoima feeding attracted a variety of races. But they all had something in common Thursday: They were hungry.

Fred Flores, a field worker for Rep. Howard Berman (D-Panorama City), helped out in his native Pacoima by working early morning knife magic on 17 turkeys. Flores said he remembers when there weren’t so many people living on the streets in search of a free meal.

“We didn’t know the word ‘homeless’ when I was growing up,” Flores said. “It was not so common in my life as the word is in my kid’s vocabulary now.”

Once the last turkey had been carved and the ladles were shined and ready, the 100 or so people in Pacoima said a prayer and started eating.

Down the road in San Fernando, the men of the Elks Lodge, along with lots of help from their wives and friends, started flicking on ovens early Thursday morning. But although they prepared 96 tender turkeys, the group had fed only about 100 people by early afternoon.

Organizer Rick Drew said that since it was the group’s first year, not enough people knew about the free food. He expects a bigger attendance next year.

Vera Shepherd, the wife of the Elks Club’s exalted ruler, said she had been at the lodge since 6 a.m. She was busily dishing out vegetables and advising those moving through the line to come back for seconds.

Miles away from the lodge, Debra McColl created her own Thanksgiving meal at her self-help center in Glendale. Along with participants from substance abuse classes, a few volunteers laid out a meal on a table in front of the center’s bulletin board. McColl said she didn’t want to create a massive feeding program, but simply wanted to bring the specialness of family to some people who need it most.

“This is a chance for the people in the program to continue the family atmosphere,” McColl said.

In Woodland Hills, the Warner Center Marriott hotel farmed out the children’s entertainment for its Thanksgiving Day banquet to Pierce College and the Canoga Park High School agricultural magnet program.

The hotel provided the “petting farm” as a diversion for children whose parents chose to eat dinner there instead of cooking at home.

The schools made hay out of the event, setting up a table filled with promotional materials next to a small pen occupied by two Yorkshire piglets, two goats, two Holstein cows and a few lambs.

About 100 children, dressed up for the holiday dinner, quickly got their hands around the idea--picking up the piglets for parents’ cameras, chasing the goats and generally enjoying a few minutes away from the dinner table.

“Nice cow, nice cow--don’t hit him,” said Lynne Goldberg to her 22-month-old son, Simon. She was visiting from Springfield, Mass., with her husband, Bob Wool, for a family bar-mitzvah.

Brothers Ean and Spencer Phillips romped around the pen as if they’d been cooped up for hours. In fact, they had just flown into town with their parents, hotel executives newly transferred to the San Fernando Valley from Key West, Fla.

“At other hotels, you usually have a token rabbit at Easter, but never the whole farm,” the boys’ mother said, laughing. “My boys are having the best time they’ve had in 72 hours.”

Joseph A. Ortiz, a Canoga Park High School agriculture teacher, stood guard over the pen, making sure the goats didn’t dine on too much ficus. He instructs his students not to give the animals names, or grow fond of them.

“We don’t raise pets for food--these are all production animals,” he said.

Ortiz said he planned to dine later on store-bought meat instead of animals fresh from the farm.

“If my parents know who the animal is, they can’t eat it. My father’s real funny about things like that,” Ortiz said.

“Personally, I have no problem with it.”