FIRST STEPS

Greg Lynch, President – November 28^th, 2003

A few nights ago, a group from our Rotary Club served a pre-Thanksgiving dinner at the Veteran’s Home in East Harlem. Most of our guests were veterans of service in the United States military. Many bore the physical consequences of combat. Most of those veterans we had the privilege of serving are homeless. There’s a definition for homelessness. It means not having a fixed abode. A person who lives in a shelter, a hotel or a SRO (single room occupancy) may be living under a roof but, by definition, is still homeless. A homeless person who has served his country is not only a veteran but a person who really understands the consequences of service.

When I got to the Home about 5:30 pm, some of the Club members were already there, set up in the kitchen, cutting slices of pie: lemon, coconut, apple, pumpkin and more pumpkin. My own first task was to put out some juice. These were large cans of orange and apple that we set out in Styrofoam cups on battered metal trays. We poured a couple of hundred drinks. Somewhere along the way I got a plastic apron and a server’s white paper hat. The line of hungry diners began to form. The food got set out on the steam table, and in a flash I found myself greeting our guests, setting out a folding Styrofoam plate for each one and asking if the guest desired sweet potatoes. As the evening progressed, I got promoted to serving rice and corn and eventually to the turkey and cranberry. There was no real gravy and no stuffing, but not a single complaint.

Some guests took extra, heaped plates for those too infirmed to travel down to the dining room. Others came on crutches and in wheelchairs. At first they were quiet and differential to us. The members of our Rotary group were clearly not from the immediate neighborhood. Yet we are from the same community, and that was part of the point. The food was good. Many came back for extra helpings. After a while you got to figure who liked extra cranberry and who preferred the white meat. Then the casual chatter began along with glimpses of the humanity on both sides of the steam table. Pictures were taken and there were a lot of big Rotary smiles. The rules did not permit the photographing of our guests, but there were some broad smiles on that side too.

I’ve been a member of our Club for nine years, and used to be chair of our Community Service Division. We’ve done some good things before. I’ve gone on walks for AIDS awareness and against hunger. We’ve raised funds for computers and education for young people living in the same neighborhood as the Home, and we’ve toured our projects with visiting guests. Somehow, this dinner came the closest to feeling the heat of the kitchen and the warmth of the lives of those with whom we shared our own over-abundance. Oh don’t get me wrong, I’ve done hands-on volunteer work before, just not with the members of my Rotary Club. This was better. This made me want to go out again, soon. I want to share with neighbors I did not yet know and with members of my Club whom I’ve known for years but who I get to know, well differently, through the opportunity of service. There was a feeling that came over me from back in my Peace Corps days. Sure I gave of myself and maybe made a difference to the lives of others. But without doubt, the chance to serve made a real difference to me. A small dose of service had made a tangible difference in my own life. There is magic in Rotary. Service above Self.