By Douglas Graves C 2009
First printed in the Catasauqua [PA] Press March 5, © 2009
It looked like a sleep-over for adults in the basement efficiency apartment of a nice home. Sleeping bags, some on cots, most spread on the tile floor. The hosts were serving a hot meal; cookies waited at the end of the serving line.
The 14 guests, the homeless people who were spending the night, for the most part had already had dinner.
But a party atmosphere was absent from the basement of St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church on Pennsylvania Avenue in Hanover Township on Friday, Feb. 20. While a small group at a table shared some laughs, the overall mood was somber. Several resigned women sat at one of the tables. No trace of makeup softened their faces, no high-lights livened their salt and pepper hair.
A thin young man in his twenties seemed out of place as he stood at the serving line for a second serving. As for the older men, the main difference between them and any other was a fresh haircut.
This was an emergency rescue operation to take ordinary but homeless men and women off the streets during a bitterly cold winter in the Lehigh Valley.
The Reverend T. Scott Allen and his volunteers were “sharing [their] faith, welcoming and serving others”—the motto on the reverend’s calling card.
Bob and Rita Sorenson of Hanover Township cleaned up in the kitchen after cooking the night’s supper of chicken noodle soup, beef stew and baked ziti.
“The church has been doing this for weeks,” said Rita Sorenson. “We wanted to volunteer. Our sons also helped by baking cookies and rolls.”
It was Reverend Allen who first responded to the request for help sent out by the Trinity Episcopal Church on East Market Street in Bethlehem. Six other area churches agreed to help said Reverend Elizabeth Miller, director of the soup kitchen at Trinity Episcopal Church. Asked if the township authorities have contributed to or tried to interfere with his activities, Allen said, “No.”
In Brookville, Pennsylvania last year, a district judge fined the pastor of the First Apostles Doctrine Church $500 for allowing three homeless men to stay in the church parsonage. Brookville’s solicitor reportedly said, “We’re not going let someone violate the zoning laws because they do it in the name of Jesus Christ.”
Each night a different church takes in a group, feeds them supper, beds them down, and fixes them a breakfast the following morning before they have to go back to the street. Volunteers bring and prepare the food; two of them spend the night with their charges as the homeless get a warm and dry sleep. A second shift of volunteers will come in around 6 a. m. to prepare breakfast.
And what’s for breakfast? “Oatmeal, Hot Pockets, waffles, cereal, coffee and juices,” said Rita Sorenson.
“We could use some more cots,” said Reverend Allen when asked what else he needs. “We haven’t needed money. People have donated their time.” To help or donate money, cots or blankets call (610) 865-3603 or go to St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church at 1900 Pennsylvania Avenue between Catasauqua Road and Union Boulevard.
Asked if this is a year-round program, he said “No. Only when it’s cold—when the temperature falls below 32 degrees or the wind-chill factor is below 32 degrees.”
Cindy Bowlby from Slatington said, “It was something very important. We were worried about the people.”
Does it worry her to work with and spend the night with strangers? “Everything is fine. It’s very enjoyable.” She has volunteered to spend the night twice. Bowlby grew up as a member of St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church but now drives down from Slatington to fellowship with her congregation.
These people were homeless for a variety of reasons. One had sold his house when he got cancer but had no insurance or money to pay for the treatments. The thin young man had been kicked out of his house by his father.
One man told his story but was fearful that any detail in the newspaper would attract the attention of an abusive family member whom he wants to avoid.
Only Julio Millan agreed to be interviewed by the Press, the others being too private or too proud.
Millan, originally from Puerto Rico but most recently from Florida, said he came to the area in June of 2008 looking for work as a truck driver. He said he has a commercial driver’s license but the depression has dried up jobs. “I’ve had to sleep in the woods,” he said. “I’ve even slept under the Minsi Trail Bridge.”
“They let me shower at New Bethany Ministries,” he said. “I can do my laundry there.”
Another’s story was a cautionary tale; how a skilled, self-employed tradesperson, injured on the job and without medical insurance can, in short order, be on the streets. No longer able to ply a trade due to a crippling injury, this person is hoping to qualify for some kind of disability payment. The homeless person’s spouse works part-time for minimum wages and with no benefits to barely survive. “We’ll be OK,” said the homeless person.
The Reverend Joel Atkinson, Canon Missioner from the Cathedral Church of the Nativity was there. He had just brought a group from his church where they had spent Thursday night.
“We have warm, empty buildings,” said Reverend Allen. “Why not share them?”
Other churches participating: Church of the Manger at1401 Greenview Dr
Bethlehem, the Unitarian Universalist Church of the Lehigh Valley at 424 Center St. Bethlehem, the Holy Trinity Lutheran Church at 514 Third Ave. in Bethlehem and the New Covenant Church at 23 E Broad St. Bethlehem, the El Shaddai Ministries’ Christian Training Center 529 East Broad St. in Bethlehem and the Cathedral Church of the Nativity at 321 Wyandotte St. in Bethlehem.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
“People Need to Go Where the Silence Is."
Douglas Graves © 2009
Published in the Bethlehem [PA] Press March 4, 2009
“They raped 40 girls and their teachers,” said the Darfuri woman in the film shown at Bethlehem’s Congregation Brith Shalom Feb. 11. “They were bleeding. I saw them.”
About 40 area residents, mostly middle aged to elderly — and several teenagers, gathered to watch “One Night, One Voice,” a film that posits Sudan is using rape as a weapon of war.
The meeting was sponsored by the local chapter of the Save Darfur Coalition.
Liberty High School student Sam Newman was there with his mother, Tova Goldstein.
“I read ‘The Translator’ and it opened my eyes about Darfur,” Newman said.
The group was encouraged by the report of an arrest warrant issued that day for Sudan President Omar Hassan al-Bashir. No arrest seems imminent.
Hosted by Rabbi Allen Juda, the local premier of the film was one of 200 simultaneously seen across the United States.
Monsignor John Mraz of Emmaus’ St. Ann Parish read passages urging mercy and forbearance from the teachings of the great religions rooted in the Holy Land.
Patti Price of Moravian College said the 7,500-member African Union force is on the verge of collapse.
The 22,500 UN peacekeepers were not allowed by Khartoum to be stationed in Darfur. “Without this force, there is little or no security on the ground,” said Price. Darfur is about the size of France.
She said that while estimates vary, 400,000 people have died. Besides the violence, illness, malnutrition, and neglect, rape is widely used as a weapon of war.
The camera fixed on the burned bodies of two children, their torsos sprawled in the desolate brown dust; their youth confirmed by a delicate hand sticking out of a torn sleeve that carbonized close to the blackened torso. The child’s face was burned away. The other’s head, also black in the dirt, was charred and laying some inches away from its sunken, sooty torso.
“The Janjaweed came and burned them alive,” testified another woman. “[They were] throwing the children to the fire.”
“The children are being abused with something as dirty as this,” said Rose Laxar from Tamaqua, as she signed a “Save Darfur” petition.
Projected on the screen were eight dead infants, their heads just visible under a straw mat covered with light green brush held down by stones.
“When someone rapes a woman,” said Adrianne Fricke, an international human rights attorney speaking in the film, “they rape her entire tribe. It’s considered, in the traditional sense, the deepest affront. By raping a woman in front of her male relatives it ensures the destruction of the fabric of that family.”
“There is no justice for the women of Darfur,” said the narrator.
“There has been just one rape conviction in Sudan and that was because of a confession,” said Dr. Kelly Askin, a moderator on the telecast.
“The stigma on women gives power to the rapists,” said Dr. Askin. “We need to be taking the stigma and putting it on the rapists.”
“Help Darfur” petitions to the new president were being circulated by earnest young women.
Charlie Vaccaro and Miranda Johnson displayed a tinfoil cardboard-backed solar cooker as an example of a simple gift that will give employment to Darfuri women while reducing their need to risk attack and rape while foraging for firewood.
Jim Powers of Allentown, a retired airline pilot, spoke quietly with several people after the film. “I work for Air Serv International,” he said, “We fly aid workers all over Darfur. The roads are dangerous.”
“People need to go where the silence is,” said Maria Bella, an actor from Pennsylvania and member of the televised discussion panel. Another panelist quoted Ellie Wiesel: “What hurts the victim the most is not the cruelty of the oppressor but the silence of the bystander.”
April is Genocide Prevention Month. Go to www.savedarfur.org. Call 1-800-GENOCIDE to leave a message for Secretary of State Hillary Clinton. Call 888-473-7885, Extension 1 to record a message that will be broadcast to the women in Darfur. Contact Rabbi Juda at 610-866-8990 for more information.
Published in the Bethlehem [PA] Press March 4, 2009
“They raped 40 girls and their teachers,” said the Darfuri woman in the film shown at Bethlehem’s Congregation Brith Shalom Feb. 11. “They were bleeding. I saw them.”
About 40 area residents, mostly middle aged to elderly — and several teenagers, gathered to watch “One Night, One Voice,” a film that posits Sudan is using rape as a weapon of war.
The meeting was sponsored by the local chapter of the Save Darfur Coalition.
Liberty High School student Sam Newman was there with his mother, Tova Goldstein.
“I read ‘The Translator’ and it opened my eyes about Darfur,” Newman said.
The group was encouraged by the report of an arrest warrant issued that day for Sudan President Omar Hassan al-Bashir. No arrest seems imminent.
Hosted by Rabbi Allen Juda, the local premier of the film was one of 200 simultaneously seen across the United States.
Monsignor John Mraz of Emmaus’ St. Ann Parish read passages urging mercy and forbearance from the teachings of the great religions rooted in the Holy Land.
Patti Price of Moravian College said the 7,500-member African Union force is on the verge of collapse.
The 22,500 UN peacekeepers were not allowed by Khartoum to be stationed in Darfur. “Without this force, there is little or no security on the ground,” said Price. Darfur is about the size of France.
She said that while estimates vary, 400,000 people have died. Besides the violence, illness, malnutrition, and neglect, rape is widely used as a weapon of war.
The camera fixed on the burned bodies of two children, their torsos sprawled in the desolate brown dust; their youth confirmed by a delicate hand sticking out of a torn sleeve that carbonized close to the blackened torso. The child’s face was burned away. The other’s head, also black in the dirt, was charred and laying some inches away from its sunken, sooty torso.
“The Janjaweed came and burned them alive,” testified another woman. “[They were] throwing the children to the fire.”
“The children are being abused with something as dirty as this,” said Rose Laxar from Tamaqua, as she signed a “Save Darfur” petition.
Projected on the screen were eight dead infants, their heads just visible under a straw mat covered with light green brush held down by stones.
“When someone rapes a woman,” said Adrianne Fricke, an international human rights attorney speaking in the film, “they rape her entire tribe. It’s considered, in the traditional sense, the deepest affront. By raping a woman in front of her male relatives it ensures the destruction of the fabric of that family.”
“There is no justice for the women of Darfur,” said the narrator.
“There has been just one rape conviction in Sudan and that was because of a confession,” said Dr. Kelly Askin, a moderator on the telecast.
“The stigma on women gives power to the rapists,” said Dr. Askin. “We need to be taking the stigma and putting it on the rapists.”
“Help Darfur” petitions to the new president were being circulated by earnest young women.
Charlie Vaccaro and Miranda Johnson displayed a tinfoil cardboard-backed solar cooker as an example of a simple gift that will give employment to Darfuri women while reducing their need to risk attack and rape while foraging for firewood.
Jim Powers of Allentown, a retired airline pilot, spoke quietly with several people after the film. “I work for Air Serv International,” he said, “We fly aid workers all over Darfur. The roads are dangerous.”
“People need to go where the silence is,” said Maria Bella, an actor from Pennsylvania and member of the televised discussion panel. Another panelist quoted Ellie Wiesel: “What hurts the victim the most is not the cruelty of the oppressor but the silence of the bystander.”
April is Genocide Prevention Month. Go to www.savedarfur.org. Call 1-800-GENOCIDE to leave a message for Secretary of State Hillary Clinton. Call 888-473-7885, Extension 1 to record a message that will be broadcast to the women in Darfur. Contact Rabbi Juda at 610-866-8990 for more information.
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