Do you know about the Point Reyes Station food pantry? It’s right in town, on Mesa Road, just off Highway 1. It’s open every weekday: on Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings and Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. You may have noticed the action on the sidewalk: people gather outside or line up at the front door. Thursday draws the biggest crowd, as delivery trucks arrive and tables are set up under awnings.
Lots of people come. It’s surprising how many of us are struggling financially. But proof of income is not required; it’s an honor system, and most regular visitors are honorable. A few people try to show up on lucky days when Brickmaiden makes a donation; sometimes those loaves are still warm.
Each week, around 140 or more households are offered a box of produce or invited to fill their own bags containing whatever they can use of whatever is available: celery, carrots, lettuce, cabbage, apples, chard, onions, potatoes. Sometimes there is cheese, eggs, sliced turkey. Cans of soup or beans, bags of rice. Walnuts—maybe? Frozen meat. Sometimes watermelon or cantaloupe. A box of cereal, a package of cookies occasionally.
The food is distributed based largely on what people can use. Experienced pantry staff know the situations of the regular customers. The Light recently reported that one in five families, and one in three seniors, has difficulty affording food to put on the table. Quite a few pantry visitors don’t actually have a table!
Here comes someone I recognize: an older woman I’ve seen walking around town. She has no car; she can’t carry much. In line behind her is a neighbor of mine. I wouldn’t have known she was hurting for food money. An older man appears, he’s been here before. He teaches at a community college, but he doesn’t have tenure and doesn’t know if he will be rehired. A young mother is next; she cleans local households to support her own. Her hands are firmly attached to two of the cutest small children. They help, each child choosing the very best apple in the box.
Some people don’t have access to a refrigerator or stove, so a bag of rice won’t help. That’s when staff offers small, ready-to-eat packages—a piece of cheese or a serving of sliced turkey. Small cartons of milk, sometimes. Pantry staff try to balance the nutrition they provide. “For protein today, we have some sliced chicken.” There are often cans of juice or soda, or bottles of water. A man on a bike is happy to have these small portions; he has no car, and his bike basket can’t handle heavy melons or more than a couple cans of beans.
The food pantry is a big part of the community service offered by West Marin Community Services. The umbrella group is under the skillful direction of Socorro Romo, a petite person with a very big job description. Included are programs for school kids, seniors, the entire community. Her staffers are young and mostly bilingual. People who come to the pantry speak English, Spanish and Spanglish—which helps those of us who are less proficient in a second language. Some staff run tutoring and recreation programs, some manage the thrift store. Emergency vouchers are provided for clothing and shoes, even cash for unexpected crises. Health needs are met in collaboration with county mobile clinics; Covid masks and tests, vaccinations and first-aid care are provided. Supplies are kept ready for the entire community in case of fire, flood or other disaster.
The food pantry clientele is diverse: some have had money, some came from poverty. Some are well-educated, others have had little schooling. Some seem cheerful and appreciative; others, not so much. Some feel entitled, while others are humble, embarrassed or shy. People wait respectfully if there is a line—except for the few who seem to believe that everyone should wait for them. Recipients generally choose what they need, conscious of health considerations, and handle only what they will take home. Manners were part of the upbringing of most visitors. But not everyone has an attitude of gratitude. There are emotional and mental health challenges, as well as physical issues.
Still, everyone is respected, everyone is entitled to get the help they need: nurture, sympathy, empathy, dignity. Everyone needs to eat.
Funding for West Marin Community Services is provided by the county, foundation grants and individual contributions. Emergency Covid relief helped, until it didn’t. Federal pandemic funds have just now been discontinued. It’s unclear just how that part of the budget will be restored.
Members of the community pitch in, people help out. Local food is donated, and residents volunteer time and talent. (Have you heard the music and seen the dancing in and around town recently?!).
You are invited to participate in any way you can. Stop by and visit. Learn about the programs, see what is offered and what is needed. West Marin Community Services serves the entire community. The more you learn, the better you will appreciate how smart, efficient and effective this agency is.
Nancy Galloway is an Inverness resident and a volunteer at the West Marin Community Services food pantry.