This past Sunday I was happy to help provide a dinner for the homeless population in San Luis Obispo at one of several shelters in the area.
Sadly, the homeless population in our country seems to be growing. At the same time it is heartening to see the many services being provided by professionals as well as volunteers to help in some small way those who find themselves in this situation.
Through my synagogue I became aware of a local shelter here, The Maxine Lewis Memorial Shelter, which regularly enlists the aid of local churches and synagogues to organize volunteers to provide a delicious, nutritious dinner for homeless individuals and families.
Volunteers sign up to bring a portion of the meal be it salad, fresh fruit, cooked vegetables, dessert or entree or they can sign up to act as servers. Through their efforts 140 people are served a complete dinner.
I chose to contribute an array of colorful roasted fresh vegetables, including carrots, corn, onions and multi colored peppers which were tossed with extra virgin olive oil, and seasoned simply with kosher salt, pepper, and a small amount of fresh thyme. I steamed sugar snap peas and added those to the roasted vegetables.
Though I originally had planned on the Brussel Sprouts you see in the photo above I had a change of heart and decided steamed sugar snaps would be a lot more pleasing to the children. And much more colorful!
I steamed the fresh corn briefly, and when cool simply sliced the kernels off the cob, roasting them a bit with the other veggies.
Maxine Lewis, for whom the shelter is named was a remarkable woman with a remarkable and inspirational story…here is a tribute to her which appeared in the San Luis Tribune about a year ago…
The story of Maxine Lewis, who strived to feed her community
Posted by David Middlecamp on December 11, 2014
A car accident left her unable to work at her nursing job.
An attempt to help an elderly woman with housework ended with racial
slurs.
These setbacks could have stopped a less resilient person,
but Maxine Lewis overcame obstacles and made the community her family.
The homeless shelter on Orcutt Road in San Luis Obispo is named for her.
She worked for an assistance organization called Grass Roots in the mid-1960s, and she founded Grass Roots II in 1968.
She did not always get along with the bureaucratic system.
At one point in 1981 the San Luis Obispo City Council cut off funding, and in 1983 the agency had to close its doors.
Lewis re-opened a few months later.
Said
San Luis Obispo Mayor Ron Dunin in a May 16, 1988, Telegram-Tribune
article: “Very many times, she was a misunderstood person. She had a
heart of gold but did not have a bureaucratic understanding. … She liked
to do things without pressure from paperwork. She hated paperwork. But
she was the biggest champion that the underprivileged people of this
city ever had.”
In a Dec. 29, 1989, story, the Rev. Ervin Lewis,
Maxine’s brother-in-law and pastor of St. Luke Missionary Baptist
Church, said: “She stuck her head out for others and gave everything she
had away. She always wanted to help others.”
Standing still was not in her nature.
She
was born Sept. 30, 1926, in Longview, Texas, daughter of a
sharecropper. She grew up seeing the poverty near Indian reservations in
California and Oklahoma.
She moved to San Luis Obispo in 1959 with her family, husband Jewel, five daughters and three sons.
In
a Nov. 25, 1971, story, Lewis said: “As far back as I remember, I
always wanted to work with people, to help people — especially children
and old people.”
Lewis wanted to help elderly stay at home for as long as possible.
“Convalescent
homes and geriatrics wards are places to die, not to live,” said Lewis.
“I try to help people to stay at home as long as they are able.
Sometimes all they need is a daily phone call to make sure they are all
right.”
Her feeling was summed up with “give them a flower while they live — not when they are dead.”
Maxine
Lewis died in May 1988 at the age of 61, one month after being
diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, having spent more than two decades
directing help to the homeless and infirm.
On Nov. 19, 1980,
Telegram-Tribune community editor Dorie Bentley wrote about how Maxine
Lewis made the community her extended family after an ugly incident that
would have stopped a lesser spirit.
Maxine Lewis will be doing what she usually does for Thanksgiving — putting on a feast for the multitude.
“We’re just trying to bring a little sunshine into someone’s life. Or just to let them know we care,” she said.
Maxine
Lewis has been showering her particular brand of sunshine on San Luis
Obispo County residents since she moved from Texas with her eight
children in 1959.
“I have always been a person wanting to help. My theory is helping. If I can help someone today … ”
Her
work as Grass Roots director has won praise from all quarters. She
could decorate a wall of her Baywood Park home with the 15 or so plaques
she has received for her community service.
The Thanksgiving dinners that had their beginning in her San Luis Obispo home now feed hundreds each year.
Munching
on bits of raw yam, Lewis told how it started. She’s always been used
to doing a lot of meals, “but I don’t measure anything. I don’t go by
recipes, but I know the ingredients.”
She talked about one of her favorites, sweet potato pie.
“I
take a slice of yam to taste the sweetness. It let’s me know how much
sugar to add to the pie. All fruits and vegetables have their own
sugars. The key is to keep them at their most nutritious. All vegetables
have enough juices to cook themselves. I use very little water in
preparing vegetables. It takes longer, but tastes better.”
She
became involved with Grass Roots through the 1964 War on Poverty Act.
Six centers, called Grass Roots, were set up in poverty areas. In the
reshuffling in years 1966-67, which saw most poverty centers replaced by
manpower centers, Grass Roots survived. It started out in San Luis
Obispo on $600 a month from the city coffers, and became a nonprofit
organization in 1972.
“I started out as a volunteer. We held
community meetings monthly. I was elected by a majority of the community
to do the job. I didn’t make an application, I was elected,” she said.
She credits “the help of the good Samaritans of San Luis Obispo County” for the many accomplishments of Grass Roots.
She’s proud of her part, “I let people know what their rights are.”
Housing
for the poor, better housing for lower-income people, child care
centers, adult literacy classes and educational programs followed.
Under
one program, low-income people could get loans to build a house. “I
built this house here. My income was so low — with eight children.”
Now
54, Lewis’ oldest daughter is 38, her youngest child, 21. She’s been
named Citizen of the Year by Phi Delta Kappa for her outstanding service
to schools; citizen of the month by the San Luis Obispo Chamber of
Commerce for “humanistic and dynamic services to people in need.”
There is another story Lewis doesn’t tell easily. “I hate to get into this,” she said.
She had a serious accident and was disabled, “but I have always helped — been concerned about other people. It’s my nature.”
She
saw an advertisement; an older woman needed someone to do house
cleaning. “I knocked on the door, and an older woman answered. I told
her I was disabled, but felt I could be useful, and felt I had a lot of
useful years left to help someone. I told her I was not asking for
money; I wanted to give my time to her…”
The tall, black woman
continued, “She looked at me and said, ‘You … a nigger. Coming to my
door thinking you can help me. You — get away from my door. I don’t want
help from no nigger.’”
Lewis said, “… That was a hurt. But I was still determined that there were people I would be able to help.
“Then
I found this organization — Grass Roots — and this was a place I could
spend as much time volunteering as I wanted to. I enjoy everything Grass
Roots stands for, because I too have concerns.”
The first
Thanksgiving dinner, “started in my home, shortly after I came to San
Luis Obispo, around 1961 or ’62. I lived on Broad Street where there
were many transient-type people.
They stopped in; seniors, too.
The dinner was solely prepared and donated by myself. It was open all
day. About 30 to 40 people came in, another 10 to 20 meals went out. I
tried to get people to a home-like setting.”
Not only did she like
the crowd, she felt her children benefited from the
grandfather-grandmother image of the elderly, she added.
She’s been Grass Roots director nine years, and “each year the dinner grew and grew and grew.”
Some 800 to 900 people dine every year; another 300 to 400 meals are taken to the homebound.