Greg Wilson/Anderson Observer
At the Anderson Emergency Kitchen, you only need to show up hungry.
There are no names to give, no numbers to supply, nothing to fill out, no preliminary accounting of the circumstances that have made lunch a problem.
Ivy Davis, the operations manager and cook, describes the admission procedure in three words:
“Come on in.”
Lately, more people have been accepting the invitation.
The kitchen, at 1527 South Main Street in a renovated building that once housed Roy’s Diner, serves about 150 people on an average day, Davis said, with the number sometimes reaching 200. A slow day now brings 125.
But as attendance has grown and food prices have risen, the pantry has begun to fall behind. The kitchen needs food, money and volunteers—the three ingredients that make all the others possible.
Its guests include senior citizens, families, people without homes and people whose bills have left too little for groceries. Davis does not consider it her business to sort them into deserving and undeserving varieties.
“If you’re hungry, we’ll feed you,” she said.
The food is cooked fresh each day, and the meal is eaten at the kitchen. Davis tries to make the visit pleasant, but her concern extends beyond the time a guest spends at the table.
“This might be the only meal that these people get today,” she said.
That possibility governs her approach to the plate. There should be enough food, something for dessert and, when needed, a second helping. The second helping need not resemble the first. On the day of the interview, the menu was turkey, but pork from the previous day could furnish another plate. Variety, in this instance, was a useful consequence of thrift.
“We don’t waste,” Davis said.
The kitchen’s supporters include some churches, individuals and businesses, a few of which organize food drives. When word went out recently that supplies were running low, people began bringing donations. Davis calls these arrivals blessings, including those whose immediate culinary application is not entirely apparent.
But a generous response to one appeal does not settle the next day’s needs. There will be another lunch, and another group of people for whom it may be the day’s principal meal.
Money is needed for the less visible provisions: electricity, gas and the other expenses of keeping a kitchen open. It also allows Davis to buy seasonings and ingredients needed to complete a meal. No guest is charged.
Food donations, including canned goods and meat, are welcome. Davis and the volunteers inspect what comes in, checking its condition and suitability for service. The kitchen’s obligation to feed people includes an obligation to feed them safely.
Asked which supplies were most needed, Davis offered a purchasing guide broad enough to cover nearly any grocery aisle.
“Anything that you need in your kitchen, I need in mine,” she said.
Donors can bring food to the South Main Street location. Davis said financial contributions can also be made through the kitchen’s online PayPal donation option.
There is a comparable need for people willing to do the work between the arrival of a donation and the departure of a clean plate. Volunteers help prepare food, serve meals and clean up. They generally arrive around 9:30-10 a.m. and stay until about 12:30 p.m., Davis said. Two other women help her with preparation, but there is plenty left to do.
“We couldn’t run this place without our great volunteers,” she said.
Her recruitment requirements are uncomplicated.
“I don’t ask for a resume,” she said, laughing. “And I’m not going to pay you, so what can I say?”
Davis came to the work through a family connection and a negotiation she appears to have lost. Her uncle, the late McLester “Mac” McDowell, helped start the kitchen at Grace Episcopal Church. Davis said he found her at home, minding her own business, and suggested that she come help.
“And I said, no. And he said yes.”
She began serving. Later, when Bobby Hardman, then the cook and now the board chairman, became ill and needed hospital care, Davis was asked to take over the cooking.
Having raised five boys, with grandchildren and great-grandchildren subsequently enlarging the family, she had already acquired considerable experience in feeding a crowd.
The temporary assignment became permanent.
“He tricked me into doing that full time,” she said with a grin.
The kitchen has operated for more than 40 years. It spent more than three decades on West Franklin Street before the deteriorating condition of that building forced a move. It is now in its fourth year at the South Main Street location.
For Davis, the work is a daily reminder of what she has, rather than what she lacks. She does not describe herself as prosperous. She describes herself as able to help.
“I am bountifully blessed to be able to give my time to the community,” she said.
For those considering whether to contribute a few groceries, a little money or a morning’s work, she has a shorter formulation.
“We’re all in this together.”
