In fighting hunger, hardship meets joy

Every Monday through Thursday, at about 11:30 a.m., the downtown parking lot of the Food for Lane County Dining Room teems with diners. Volunteer Vitto Flores invites people in with a familial kindness.

Inside, people put jackets on the backs of seats and music from volunteer musician Art Willey’s guitar carries through space.

Back in the kitchen, Anthony Doheny and Cat Amber share a dance as they plate dishes. 

Guy Maynard, one of the volunteer servers, brings hot coffee to Jeff. He’s thankful.

Joseph Garcia sits across from Charlie Johnson, both from Los Angeles. They are meeting for the first time.

The Dining Room exudes warmth.

“In other places, you don’t know what you are going to get, and it might not be food,” Garcia said. “The folks right here, we eat here.”

Six miles east, on Halloween afternoon, kids run around in the parking lot of the Bob Keefer Center in Springfield. It’s the mobile pantry, set up like a farmers market. They play tag as parents, grandparents and friends wait in line for food. Spanish is the dominant language. 

Pablo Duarte is with his wife and granddaughter. He smiles as he walks down the line of tents, selecting vegetables from wicker baskets.

It’s the end of the month, and like most, Duarte is there to get food.

“Me ayuda,” he says. “It helps.” As he walks through the line, his excitement grows. He picks up chilis, queso fresco and chorizo.

The pantry caters to its community. Culturally significant foods are spread across the red and white checkered picnic table cloth.

“Que bueno,” Duarte said. “Excellent.” 

In the foothills of the Cascade Mountains, on a foggy morning, cars line up at Westridge Middle School in Westfir, which houses a twice a week food pantry in an empty classroom and the adjoining softball batting cages. Dew obscures everyone’s windows. A white car has barely shifted into park before volunteer Deb Borton meets a mother of four at her passenger-side door.

Moments later Borton runs inside to get more food. “They get an extra meat,”  she said, loading the rest of the food into the trunk. 

“Seeing that gratitude on people’s faces definitely makes it worthwhile,” said pantry manager Brandee Bell. The gratitude doesn’t stay on the curb. Back inside, paper plates are strewn across the corner of a desk. Some have lengthy messages on them, talking about how their needs were met.

Others cut right to the chase. One has five stars drawn across it. Below them it reads, “Thank you.”

Read the entire series:

Introducing our three-part series examining food insecurity in Lane County

Living in the shadow of hunger

Delivering food, giving hope

What it takes to feed the hungry

Burrito Brigade: Helping the hungry, one wrap at at time

Mobile pantry volunteer was once the one needing help

There is such a thing as a free lunch — at school

One of the area’s largest food donors, on helping: ‘We have an obligation’

Our View: Volunteers are frontline fighters against hunger. Lawmakers must catch up.

Lookout’s series on food insecurity is an eye-opener — and a call to action