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YourHub.com \\ Burbank \\ Stories \\ Faith \\ General Faith

Community of faith feed homeless at Burbank Armory

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Contributed by: Connie Trimble on 3/5/2008

Anyone raised near the Burbank Airport knows where the Burbank Armory is.
Nestled between the solitary baseball field at Pacific Park and Fry's Electronics.

It's fitting that the home of the local National Guard sits next to the monument built after World War I, the Portal of the Folded Wings. At any given spring baseball game, people will point out the military vehicles which seem to sit in the far outfield, commenting that they are probably studio props.

But long before 9-11, the armory was the local base for what today is called Homeland Security and the Guard training.

Glendale's armory became a base for homeless housing and when it needed to close for much-needed repairs, Burbank's armory was called upon to pinch hit for Glendale.

This is not about the struggle between the twocities to work out the arrangements, which left a shortage of funds for services. It's about the answer to a call for help from the city, answered by the local community of faith.

Ministers were asked if their congregations would be willing to provide at least one meal a month. St. Francis Xavier, St. Finbar's, Temple Beth Emet, Church of the Latter Day Saints, Media City Foursquare, Immanuel and my own Burbank First United Methodist were among the churches that agreed to provide meals.

These families of faith are part of what makes Burbank such a great place to live. This didn't just happen at my church, but all through the city.

I'm sure that the procedure was similar at each of these congregations as it was at mine. The pastor makes a request for volunteers during the service and knows that members will step forward.

Looking at the list, the pastor will select someone with experience, hopefully, in feeding groups, and ask them to spearhead the project. Guess that was me.
Raised in a small family restaurant, I'd done more than my share of dining events.

Feeding 100 people was something I could do with two people at most. My list had more than 30 people asking to help. The hardest part was finding something for everybody to do.

My volunteers were senior citizens, parents with young children, high school students (not getting "service hours"), friends and neighbors.There was such spirit and caring that even when given the simplest of jobs, like putting a dollop of butter on someone's plate as they passed through the line, I was amazed at the joy filling the armory.

In order to get everyone involved, some people didn't even go to the armory.
They came the night before to help prepare the casseroles or they came the afternoon of the dinner to finish cooking things in the church kitchen and then went home to make dinners for their own families.

Some came with pick-up trucks and SUV's to help transport. Some couldn't come at all, but brought donations from their jobs. Others just met us there to help serve.

When the serving line was full, they waited their turn to step in when a second pan was brought forth. Looking for ways to serve, men were sweeping and cleaning in the armory kitchen.

The armory is strictly bare bones. Cots with bedding, a large TV, homeless people being checked in by volunteers with laptops, men, women, couples. Organization keeps things running smoothly. Showers are taken in turns and hungry faces start to line up. There are no averted eyes by my loving church family; smiles and warmth greet each person.

Some want to chat and visit, some quietly just move through the line. There is lots of talk of food, and smiles. I have made my mother's comfort food and though she passed away last summer, I feel her presence there. I smile. After the meal in January, our volunteers were asking what else was needed.

Following dinner in February, we distributed socks, sundries, clothing and such items that the congregation had brought in. This Sunday, Pastor Greg Batson will remind them to find me between services to sign up for our March dinner. I will find spaces for everyone.

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