Three decades turning the tables on hunger

Local man goes from standing in line for food to opening a soup kitchen here

By OLIVIA KOERNIG / Whitefish Pilot

As a child of the Great Depression, Pat Barrera knew the taste of hunger.

He once spent a three-month turn living in an abandoned hot dog wagon in Texas, eating nothing but turnips. Born in 1927, he worked alongside his mother and father picking cotton or tomatoes, or whichever crop was ripe in whichever state they found themselves living.

"We moved around from state to state getting what we could," he said.

Then in 1935, Barrera's father died. He and his mother headed to California where her two of her sisters lived. It was there that Barrera first encountered soup kitchens and the Foursquare Church.

"Every place there was a line, we got in it," Barrera said. "It was usually a soup line."

Barrera's aunts told him and his mother of a woman, Amy Semple McPherson, the leader of the Foursquare movement, who was holding services nearby. He and his mother attended and ended up getting an audience with Semple McPherson.

"She was so sweet. She told me I was the man of the family, then she patted me on the head and gave me $20," he said. "I was seven."

Knowing Barrera's background, it's not surprising that as an adult, he's committed to making a dent in hunger. He spent 20 years working in soup kitchens in California, serving as many as 200 people a day.

One instance in particular stands out in his heart and mind. He spotted a little girl in line who reminded him of one of his daughters, so he took notice of where she sat and kept an eye on her.

"She ate and then she grabbed a handful of mashed potatoes and folded it up in a paper napkin to take home," Barrera said, blinking back tears. "I can say I was a hungry kid, but it must've broke my mother's heart. And I don't want to see mothers like that. I had a great mother."

By the time Barrera moved to Whitefish in 1995, he'd already been involved with the Foursquare Church for a number of years. When he joined the Whitefish Foursquare congregation, he immediately approached the pastor about opening a food bank at the church.

The food bank started with bags of groceries donated by the congregation. Eventually, Barrera got hooked up with government subsidies, and the food started arriving by the truckload.

For the past 13 years, Barrera has headed the church's food bank effort. He estimates the church feeds 15 to 20 three- to four-person families each year.

"I believe God allowed him to experience those things for his ministry later on in life," his wife JoAnne said.

Recently, Barrera expanded his vision. In February, the church hosted its first soup kitchen. The meal was proceeded by an optional devotional. The second event took place last Saturday and will continue on the fourth Saturday of each month.

"It's on the fourth Saturday because usually people can only go so far," Barrera said. "They often run out money before they run out of month."

He also schemed up the plan to not only serve food but to provide a sit-down meal at the soup kitchen. Tables are set with linens and decorated with flowers. Meals are served by apron-clad volunteers and only reusable table settings are used. Barrera wanted to create an environment where dignity was preserved, where the people coming for a hot meal were treated as "honored guests."

"I lined up for food and my mother did, and even though I was a little kid, I still felt embarrassed," he said. "We want to treat people with the utmost respect."

Although the food bank and soup kitchen were Barrera's babies, they've matured into legacies.

The 80-year-old recently passed the food bank on to Chris DeSpain and the soup kitchen to Andy Widdifield. Barrera was diagnosed with Alzheimer's a few months ago and found that the stress of running the programs exacerbated his condition. He plans to remain involved in an advisory role.

"I want to be there in case they need something, but I'm not running the show," he said.

For more information on either program, call 862-1653.