Day after day, the homeless wait for Don McClendon.
When the temperature approaches 100 degrees, they wait, sweating through worn-out T-shirts. When the cold snaps blow through, they wait, shivering in tattered jackets. Even during a heavy downpour, like the one today, they wait. Without umbrellas.
And McClendon does not disappoint. Every Monday through Thursday, at 5 p.m. on the dot, he pulls his white van into Mirror Lake Park, opens the doors and hands out Styrofoam plates full of rice, bread, cookies and fried chicken. The latter has earned him the affectionate nickname "Chicken Man."
In less than 15 minutes, "Chicken Man" and his volunteers will hand out about 150 plates of food to as many homeless people, all lined up along the sidewalk. Then, almost as fast as he appears, McClendon will pack up and return to his Southside home. It's an act of charity he's performed for the last nine years. In that time, he's served over 400,000 meals to the needy.
But if some city officials have their way, McClendon and the other groups that distribute food to St. Pete's homeless in the city's parks and streets could be banned from feeding their fellow man.
"It's not a new issue, but every now and again it comes up again," says Rhonda Abbott, the city's social services director. "A lot of that I think has to do with complaints I get on my desk from people who live downtown or have businesses downtown. The public feeding interferes with their normal day-to-day life."
City Councilman Jeff Danner brought up the issue at an August City Council meeting after witnessing a Sarasota church group throwing sandwiches to the homeless from a moving van in the Grand Central District. He's directed the city's legal department to find ways to limit the practice.
"We're not against feeding," says Danner, who spent two years on Pinellas County's Homeless Leadership Network board. "We just want to feed the right way."
But homeless advocates charge this is another attempt by the city to push the homeless out of downtown St. Pete. Since last year, the City Council has passed ordinances preventing the homeless from sitting or sleeping on the streets, storing their belongings in parks and begging in the downtown area (see "Don't Sleep So Close to Me," Jan. 30, 2008).
"How far are is the city going to go?" exclaims Rev. Bruce Wright of Refuge Ministries, who feeds close to 200 homeless two nights a week. "If they want to start messing with church/state issues, they're treading on dangerous ground."
That's precisely why the city is moving carefully. Over the last few years, municipalities across the country have passed ordinances banning public feeding. Churches and homeless activists responded by filing lawsuits — with some success. Last year, a U.S. district court judge struck down a 2006 Las Vegas ordinance that banned feeding homeless in public areas. In 2004, Tampa withdrew its own ban on feeding the homeless after the mayor realized the ordinance could not withstand a court challenge. Other ordinances in Orlando and West Palm Beach continue to move through the court system.
"[Homeless feeding ordinances] have unintended consequences for other types of activities," city attorney John Wolfe says. "Reunions in the park, picnics in the park — [the law] has to be applied uniformly. You can't carve out a group that is homeless and apply it to them. That's unconstitutional."
That doesn't mean the city is backing down. City Council has tried to involve the county health department and the police department, but both agencies contend they don't have the legal authority to pursue individuals feeding the homeless. The council has asked city attorneys to monitor the court cases and have brainstormed other regulations, such as limiting feeding in certain parks, to avoid some of the legal issues.
"It's not healthy or sanitary," Councilman Danner insists. "We want people to be fed in a dignified manner."
It's no surprise that the homeless eating at Mirror Lake don't agree.
"An undignified way to eat would be walking up to that trashcan to find something to eat," snaps Wes Simmons, a bearded fellow munching on a piece of bread, "and believe me, I've done that, too."
Sitting on the grass nearby, Shane Turner and Jimmy Medcalf scarf down their free meal. It's the first time they've eaten today. Sure, they could have gone to one of the city's soup kitchens like St. Vincent de Paul (about a mile away) or the Salvation Army (nearly two miles away). But getting around is tough for Turner, who is nearly blind. Earlier in the week, the 39-year-old misjudged a curb, fell and gashed his knee. He was just released from the hospital yesterday. The two men, who used to own homes in St. Pete, have been living on the street for less than two months.
"They can't ban the Chicken Man," Turner says. "All he's doing is giving a picnic. He's making a giant picnic for all the people he cares about."
Within a half hour, after We Feed the Hungry Inc. has distributed 150 meals and just as many bottles of water, only a handful of homeless folks remain at Mirror Lake. There's not a Styrofoam tray or water bottle in sight.
As another band of rain clouds moves overhead, Turner and Medcalf finish a carton of strawberry milk, gather their trash and help each other up. They slowly walk east, looking for a place to sleep for the night. They'll be back tomorrow, though, rain or shine, for another meal.
For more on We Feed the Hungry Inc. and a description of St. Petersburg Central Kitchen, new program to combat hunger in St. Pete, visit Creative Loafing's blog The Daily Loaf here and here.
This article appears in Sep 17-23, 2008.