Fighting the Cold with Warm Hearts

I wrote this for the local paper. I think you should read it.

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NOVEMBER 6TH – Cold air rushes through my thin jeans jacket as I approach the Green. A Jersey Boy Bagel’s coffee scorches my lungs; making me burn from within but shiver from without. Then I see the lines. Roughly over two hundred people quiver in a clunky line that weaves its way through the park to a rectangle cautioned off by orange temporary fence. As I get closer I see the jackets, thousands of jackets sprawled on the floor of the park, organized into rough rows that I soon realize are for Children, Men and Women.

The 20th annual coat drive led by the Market Street Mission took place in early November this year. David Scott, a built white man of 5’8 and an eye patch, greets me with a smile and a firm handshake. He’s been the director of the event for 20 years – since it began. Homeless or low income families are allowed to take multiple free jackets regardless of income – and no registration required. “You don’t have to qualify” says Scott; who allows the Market Street Mission to benefit more individuals because often registration turns people off as they are ashamed or embarrassed of their condition. Scott tells me that there are two types of ministry the organization perform – basic needs and the Life Change program. Basic needs constitute food and water, and shelter, whereas the Life Change program offers emotional and mental support for those who are plagued by economic hardship. When asked how many coats they give away he responds “Well, we gave away over 5000 last year...”

I quickly learned that keeping my camera on my shoulder was a bad, bad move -It would have issued the same response if I was holding a flashlight in everyone’s eyes. One gentleman however was completely content with talking to me, even offered. I sat on edge of the fountain at the South entrance to the park, desolately scoping people to talk to when he beckoned me over, telling me I “could take his picture if I wanted to.” From there he delved into his life story, so fast it was hard to keep up with him. Since we were at the entrance to the sectioned off area for jackets, I told him to meet me after he’d gotten his coat.

He returned as I found him, in short shorts and a weathered black North Face sweater. Andy Beck, gentleman who neglected to give his age, received a master’s degree in Information Technology. He also claimed to be a paralegal which he obtained from Farleigh Dickinson. He drives, and lives, in a white Mazda 626. He currently camps in Somerville, New Jersey and comes to Morristown for it’s Soup Kitchen. Although he didn’t directly tell me, he seemed rather fond of Morristown, and the food they give. He drives a school bus during the day.

For about an hour, I sat on the edge of that fountain, politely asking people for interviews in multiple ways, and almost everyone politely told me no. I stood up and thought about just interviewing the volunteers, when I witnessed a truly unique and inspiring moment in time.

Around five or six young African Americans, no younger than three and no older than nine were whipping around the inside of the dry fountain, playing tag. After taking some candid photographs, I located the children’s mother – a sweet and lean African American lady in her early forties. “She’s a ray of sunshine” quotes the mother who neglected to provide her name. The girl’s name is Renee Phillips, and she is four and a half. Talkative young lady, most of what she told me I couldn’t understand, but it was adorable no less. She’s in Pre-K and resides in East Orange.

After the encounter with the children and their guardians, it went really slow. Everyone glared at me, like I was an awkward pimple on someone’s face that you wanted to tell them about, but just remained silent in disgust. One gentleman stopped me mid step by saying very calmly “Turn around young man, I have nothing to say to you”. As I was ready to leave, a red haired man who looked to be in his early 50s with cool blue eyes just began talking to me. It was odd, because he was talking to the person he was in line with, and then randomly began to address me. He had a deep face, and a contemplative attitude to what seemed like everything.

Charles Larussa lives with his parents in Succasunna, New Jersey. He at one point worked for the MCCA of Morris County. He seemed to be a popular man, talking to a few people around him including a young lady who looked to be in her early 30s. Rachel Greenburg told me she’s living on the streets of Madison, New Jersey. She is only 29 years old.

“We need to have the understanding. But we don't have the time or the compassion to see what [the homeless] are coming from. And they don't have the trust” – Yolanda Serrano (Executive Director of ADAPT Program in 1990)