Devoted donors for InterServ

When money gets tight or harder to find, it becomes much more important to plan how to continue to accomplish our mission. And that is exactly what the staff and board at InterServ have been discussing, in much more specific terms than we have in the past—“How will we continue to serve people in need in our community if available funds continue to decrease?”

As a nonprofit that has been particularly responsive to the needs of people as well as receptive to requests from other nonprofits, churches, government, etc., to “do something” about whatever problem has arisen at any given time, InterServ has made itself vulnerable to the “mood swings” of the economy. Fortunately, you and donors like you have made us strong enough to provide resources needed to address almost any emergency situation in the community. One way in which you have done that is to rise to the occasion—when InterServ puts out a call for volunteers, you come, in droves; when we need funding to help people displaced by flooding, you provide it; and when we ask for prayers to keep our staff and volunteers strong, you pray. But one way in which our donors and volunteers have kept us strong is something that we haven’t talked much about up to now.

Over the last year or so, a number of our very devoted donors and volunteers have passed away. In several instances, just as we became accustomed to not seeing or hearing from one of them, we received a letter, letting us know that this loyal servant had included us in his or her estate plan. It is an awe-inspiring and emotional occurrence, receiving that letter. It reminds us, every time, that we are here on earth for such a short while. When we are gone, the things about which we cared, so dearly, may still exist, but will be less without our support.

And so it goes with InterServ. We will continue to feed people. To care for children. To make sure that the youth of our community stay on the right path. To help families to help themselves. To assist the elderly and the infirmed in living where they want to live. And, thanks to the thoughtfulness and planning of the many people who remembered to name InterServ as beneficiaries in their wills, InterServ is stronger and more resilient to the financial highs and lows that so often damage nonprofits. The mission lives on.

Simply naming InterServ in your estate plan leaves behind not only a legacy of love and caring, but an answer to the question, “How will we continue to serve people in need?” Your legacy of love and caring for your neighbors is one of the most important gifts that you will ever give. InterServ promises, in return, to use your gift wisely, to help those most vulnerable among us to live their lives more fully and more capably.

We thank you for your partnership and support, but mostly we thank you for making life better for others.

A Full-Circle Connection

“…The service you provided to daddy during the recovery from his traumatic head injury brought full-circle the connection that we cherished with the “Wesley House” during our childhood and later years.  Daddy coached numerous teams of young boys and girls through baseball, softball, and basketball at Wesley House in league play.”

This excerpt is from a note we received recently from the family of one of our senior services clients.  We believe it demonstrates the interconnectedness that InterServ programming has had in the St. Joseph community for years.  Comprehensive services for seniors, families, children and youth help provide for the basic needs to people every day.   If you or a loved one is looking for ways to avoid nursing home placement, give InterServ Senior Services a call today at 232-8080 inside St. Joseph, or toll free 1-800-794-0007.

Volunteers with a vested interest

Dateline - June 30th, 2013
Place - Griffon Indoor Sports Complex
Scene - Closing of the 2013 National Youth Weightlifting Championships.

Not ten minutes after the final lift was performed at the 2013 National Youth Weightlifting Championships at MWSU did youth director Dennis Snethen get the joking question from a coach of a different team.

"When are you going to do this again?," he asked.

Dennis had been answering that question for most of the weekend due to the events success. Many parents of the lifters had been very impressed with the facility, set-up and logistics that had taken place that weekend with some of them finding Dennis and giving him good reviews.

But after getting the repeat question from that coach after the event, his answer was always the same and always started with the acknowledgment of a certain group of people.

"Let me tell you," Dennis said, "I couldn't have done this without our volunteers."

True that.

Through the years, Wesley Weightlifting parents and volunteers have had a vested interest in how the team performs and through those performances, how the young people who go through the program are shaped, molded and grow to become good citizens.

And to some of them it is more than a vested interest, it is something that they love to do and they love to do it for Dennis, his wife Becky, and all of the Wesley Weightlifters who have come and gone.

Sure, we could find their names and list them all here with their particular job descriptions they had over the weekend event - but some of them probably wouldn't care. Sure, I could tell you that they had volunteer meetings in each of the prior six months to the event to get organized - but that is just what they do. And, sure, I could tell you that I had personal interaction with at least five people (of over 30 volunteers) that had spent half the day Thursday and three 14-hour days on Friday, Saturday and Sunday at the event - but they probably didn't keep track.

And maybe one of these days Dennis will be approached by the USAW to host another of these national events that hosts over 350 lifters in a 3-day span.

And knowing Dennis, his first response will be "Sure, let me get my volunteers."

To all who have a vested interest in InterServ and helped with that event, InterServ thanks you!

Being Poor

I have to admit that I am addicted to blog-reading. One of my favorite things to do when I find myself with a few spare minutes is to open one of my regular blogs or search out a new one on a topic with which I am besotted at that particular time. There is something about reading another person's story that attracts me, as a member of the social service community, as a curious snooper, as a human being. Call it curiosity, call it prurience, call it eavesdropping, snooping, rubbernecking--I read blogs to assuage some curiosity I have about the lives of others--the human condition, as it were. And, every now and then, I come across a blogger whose writing or story--or both--touches that emotional part of me that, as one with very deep-running still waters, needs to be touched from time to time in order for me to feel human.

And so it was, as I typed the words "What does it mean to be poor?" into Google one day, in preparation for a presentation I was scheduled to do, that I came across a blog entry entitled "Being Poor," on a blog called "Whatever: They Were a Lifetime Together." Anticipating that it would be more of the same old research-based information that I had already come across, I almost passed it up. Then, something made me click the link. Soon, I was in tears, reading through a laundry list of things that just say "poor." I recognized myself in many of them and old friends and clients in others. In each, I saw a reality that many of us live or have lived each day. The shame of being poor; the reality of being poor; the tragedy of being poor in a country where so many have so much and so many have so little.

I share this with you in the hopes that you will find it as touching and thought-provoking as did I. I share this with you as an insight into why I do what I do for a living. I see a world where no one ever has to know what it feels like to be able to precisely and exactly define what it means to be poor.

Being poor is the problem and people like you--and I--are the answers. InterServ, and those like it, are simply the intermediaries. Only the passion and resources--time, money, talent--that you and I bring to the table will solve the problem. Thank you for ALL that YOU do to help end the tragedy of poverty.

from http://whatever.scalzi.com/2005/09/03/being-poor/

Being Poor

September 3, 2005 By John Scalzi

Being poor is knowing exactly how much everything costs.

Being poor is getting angry at your kids for asking for all the crap they see on TV.

Being poor is having to keep buying $800 cars because they’re what you can afford, and then having the cars break down on you, because there’s not an $800 car in America that’s worth a damn.

Being poor is hoping the toothache goes away.

Being poor is knowing your kid goes to friends’ houses but never has friends over to yours.

Being poor is going to the restroom before you get in the school lunch line so your friends will be ahead of you and won’t hear you say “I get free lunch” when you get to the cashier.

Being poor is living next to the freeway.

Being poor is coming back to the car with your children in the back seat, clutching that box of Raisin Bran you just bought and trying to think of a way to make the kids understand that the box has to last.

Being poor is wondering if your well-off sibling is lying when he says he doesn’t mind when you ask for help.

Being poor is off-brand toys.

Being poor is a heater in only one room of the house.

Being poor is knowing you can’t leave $5 on the coffee table when your friends are around.

Being poor is hoping your kids don’t have a growth spurt.

Being poor is stealing meat from the store, frying it up before your mom gets home and then telling her she doesn’t have make dinner tonight because you’re not hungry anyway.

Being poor is Goodwill underwear.

Being poor is not enough space for everyone who lives with you.

Being poor is feeling the glued soles tear off your supermarket shoes when you run around the playground.

Being poor is your kid’s school being the one with the 15-year-old textbooks and no air conditioning.

Being poor is thinking $8 an hour is a really good deal.

Being poor is relying on people who don’t give a damn about you.

Being poor is an overnight shift under florescent lights.

Being poor is finding the letter your mom wrote to your dad, begging him for the child support.

Being poor is a bathtub you have to empty into the toilet.

Being poor is stopping the car to take a lamp from a stranger’s trash.

Being poor is making lunch for your kid when a cockroach skitters over the bread, and you looking over to see if your kid saw.

Being poor is believing a GED actually makes a goddamned difference.

Being poor is people angry at you just for walking around in the mall.

Being poor is not taking the job because you can’t find someone you trust to watch your kids.

Being poor is the police busting into the apartment right next to yours.

Being poor is not talking to that girl because she’ll probably just laugh at your clothes.

Being poor is hoping you’ll be invited for dinner.

Being poor is a sidewalk with lots of brown glass on it.

Being poor is people thinking they know something about you by the way you talk.

Being poor is needing that 35-cent raise.

Being poor is your kid’s teacher assuming you don’t have any books in your home.

Being poor is six dollars short on the utility bill and no way to close the gap.

Being poor is crying when you drop the mac and cheese on the floor.

Being poor is knowing you work as hard as anyone, anywhere.

Being poor is people surprised to discover you’re not actually stupid.

Being poor is people surprised to discover you’re not actually lazy.

Being poor is a six-hour wait in an emergency room with a sick child asleep on your lap.

Being poor is never buying anything someone else hasn’t bought first.

Being poor is picking the 10 cent ramen instead of the 12 cent ramen because that’s two extra packages for every dollar.

Being poor is having to live with choices you didn’t know you made when you were 14 years old.

Being poor is getting tired of people wanting you to be grateful.

Being poor is knowing you’re being judged.

Being poor is a box of crayons and a $1 coloring book from a community center Santa.

Being poor is checking the coin return slot of every soda machine you go by.

Being poor is deciding that it’s all right to base a relationship on shelter.

Being poor is knowing you really shouldn’t spend that buck on a Lotto ticket.

Being poor is hoping the register lady will spot you the dime.

Being poor is feeling helpless when your child makes the same mistakes you did, and won’t listen to you beg them against doing so.

Being poor is a cough that doesn’t go away.

Being poor is making sure you don’t spill on the couch, just in case you have to give it back before the lease is up.

Being poor is a $200 paycheck advance from a company that takes $250 when the paycheck comes in.

Being poor is four years of night classes for an Associates of Art degree.

Being poor is a lumpy futon bed.

Being poor is knowing where the shelter is.

Being poor is people who have never been poor wondering why you choose to be so.

Being poor is knowing how hard it is to stop being poor.

Being poor is seeing how few options you have.

Being poor is running in place.

Being poor is people wondering why you didn’t leave.

 

What is it worth?

With much of the weekend soaked with cold and rain, the usual golf day (and probably season) was postponed, leaving the entertainment options scarce. Thus, I decided to head out with my girlfriend on one of her usual Saturday trips around the area to estate sale, garage sales and other sales in which people want to rid themselves of their personal belongings.

On this trip, we saw albums from the early 70’s and 80’s for sale, rusted tools, weed trimmers, books (tons of books), toys, dolls; you name it, it was probably for sale in the greater St. Joseph area on Saturday and Sunday.

At this particular estate sale it was fairly obvious that the person who owned the house was a senior citizen since most every item at the sale looked like it had been there quiet sometime. There were the above mentioned record albums from the 70’s, old-style silverware, tools that nobody uses anymore; you get the picture. And since I didn’t see any elderly people at the sale, I assumed that they had either passed away or were unable to live alone and were in a health facility for the elderly.

Going around the house I saw one item for sale that was questionable at best – in my opinion; it was a brand-new, right-out-of-the-box, state-of-the-art, never-been-used wheelchair. Price Tag? $100.

I stared at it quizzically, wondering a couple of different things - How much does a new one cost from a manufacturer?; Would someone actually purchase one at an estate sale? - Who came up with the price of $10? After going through these scenarios, the lasting question that I still have today is – How much was that wheelchair worth?

According to the person running the estate sale, it was worth $100 to them, but what about the lone senior struggling to get around in their own home or in public? What about those sons or daughters who have aging parents that need this piece of equipment to help their parents get around better but can’t afford it? What about the caregiver who sees seniors bedridden or unable to get around on a daily basis, knowing that if they could come up with this wheelchair that they could make more of a difference to one of their clients?

In leaving the sale, I had met with the folks running it, explained to them that I worked for InterServ and if they didn’t get the $100 they thought the wheelchair was worth at the time, and if they still had it, they could donate it to InterServ and we would find that senior, son or daughter, care-giver, who would think these pieces of aluminum, plastic and rubber were priceless at best.

Everyone Can Give

At first glance, the Western Reception, Diagnostic and Correctional Center, located between Frederick Avenue and Faraon Avenue in St. Joseph, looks like any other correctional facility of its kind - brick, barbed-wire fencing at many different levels, metal detectors, visitor’s pass – you get the idea.

Wednesday afternoon was the first time I had ever visited a facility of this type. Oh yeah, I had driven by the correctional facilities in Cameron and Jefferson City a few times, but I had never stepped foot inside of one. So when InterServ received a call last week from the recreational director at the WRDCC and she stated that the “Restorative Justice” group had raised some money and wanted to give it to InterServ, I didn’t think anything of it really. I thought it would be a bunch of administrators who had formed a group, got the “tenants” of this facility to do a fundraiser and give the money to a local group for the good of humanity and I was to have a little talk about InterServ, accept the check and head back to my desk.

That was before the door opened up that led us through the “common area” from one building to the other – through a small mass of inmates that were heading in the same direction. What before was an uneventful Wednesday, became much more interesting as my attention to detail became keener even though it was explained to me that I would be among a group who were “close to getting out” and that there wouldn’t be a problem. My anxiety, and possibly stereotypical response, towards this situation was all for not as I learned more about the people in the group and addressed them about InterServ. I explained what we do, and how the money that they generously donated to InterServ would help a number of people. Everyone in the group was fixed on what I was saying. They were hungry to know that the funds they raised were helping people, especially the elderly people that InterServ interacts on a daily basis. They had seen television stories and read about the need to help seniors during the summer months due to heat and hunger issues.

I sat through the rest of their meeting, taking an obligatory “check presentation” picture at the end, shook hands with everyone and left them with a sense of camaraderie that I hadn’t felt in a while. The folks who live in this facility are just that – folks. Sure the majority of them had done something that they probably have regretted at one time or another to get in there, but they are folks, just like you and me, who at some point in their life felt that giving to others was more important than receiving.

The State of Missouri calls this “restorative justice” and to some extent it is a successful program fit for this type of facility, but to me it just seemed like people caring for the well-being of others, even if some are behind a bunch of barbed-wire.

Check out the Missouri Restorative Justice Coalition at http://associations.missouristate.edu/morjc.

Olympic Fever at InterServ

Youth Director Dennis Snethen shares his views on the upcoming Olympic Games in London. http://suddenlinkfyi.com/2012/07/20/wwybw-st-joseph-mo/