A Thanksgiving meal for the homeless is a holiday tradition, and Dan Goldes is there to do his part.
A small item in a local paper catches my eye. Volunteers are needed for the Thanksgiving dinner at a local church, a dinner for the homeless people in the neighborhood. Almost on the spur of the moment, I call and commit to two shifts – prep work at 9 a.m., and serving, beginning at noon.
When I arrive, I see a dozen or more people already at work. “Put on this lovely disposable apron and these rubber gloves,” says Chuck, the volunteer in charge. “Then grab that turkey leg and start slicing.” Our small army quickly fills six large aluminum roasting pans with turkey, chatting about the work and ourselves.
Next come the vegetables. There are no subtleties here: “Cook ‘em til their mushy,” says Chuck. “Our guests don’t have teeth.”
In another room, two dozen pies are being sliced, while huge jars of applesauce and cans of cranberries are poured into Dixie cups, which are placed on trays and stacked.