One-of-a-Kind Food Truck Serves Hope and a Meal to Memphis Homeless

 

The Daughters of Zion homeless food truck serves daily 
meals to the homeless and hungry in downtown Memphis.
Photo by Wiley Henry

MEMPHIS, TN – Sean Roberts lost his landscaping job more than a week ago. Now he and his friend, Tiffany Smith, are experiencing homelessness. 

“My boss moved and gave up the job; he moved on,” said Roberts, 33.

On Saturday (March 9), nearly two dozen homeless and hungry men and women — Roberts and Smith among them — were treated to a tasty meal that Daughters of Zion, a 501(c)3 organization fighting poverty and homelessness, served from a food truck.

They had a choice of roast beef, turkey, or chicken salad sandwiches, with bow tie pasta salad, homemade cake, and a bottle of water — courtesy of Recover Food, Feed Hope, an outreach ministry based at Church of the Holy Communion.

“There are a lot of people in need,” said Roberts, calling the homeless food truck a blessing.

Smith, 32, agreed.

Each day, seven days a week, the homeless congregate outside First Presbyterian Church-Memphis at the corner of Poplar Avenue and B.B. King Boulevard in anticipation of receiving a meal.

And each day, between 2 p.m. and 4 p.m., the Daughters of Zion homeless food truck serves the homeless and hungry at that location and others throughout Memphis and Shelby County.

The food is prepared in a commercial kitchen at Jesus People Church-Memphis in the Hickory Hill community. The food truck, a Mercedes-Benz Sprinter van, is equipped with a mobile kitchen.

Daughters of Zion leases space at the church, where Dr. Gerald Kiner is pastor. He said 80 percent of the food is cooked fresh each day by Chef Cynthia Washington and served from the food truck.

The nonprofit was birthed at the church by two mothers, Mary Butler and Marsha James, said Kiner, the executive director. “They wanted me to start an organization for women to help them learn the Bible.” 

Conceived in 2007, Daughters of Zion seeks to improve the lives of the underserved by providing various services such as business development, career planning, and youth programs. Feeding the homeless is one of its services.

Kiner knows something about being hungry. As a little boy growing up, he said, “My mother had five children, and we didn't have much at all.” His father died when he was 12 and the family struggled mightily. 

“We were on public assistance,” he explained.

On Sundays, the family attended church. After the benediction, congregants could eat for $5. “My mother couldn't afford $5 a plate,” said Kiner. “When I became a pastor, we serve the church for free every Sunday.”

Twenty-one years later, the congregants at Jesus People Church still eat free. “I never charged,” the pastor said, “because I knew what it felt like to be turned away and you're hungry.”

Devoid of food as a child would strengthen Kiner’s resolve as a pastor to feed the homeless and hungry. “The homeless who don't have money — like I didn't have money — and get a plate for free, that's a wonderful feeling,” he said.

That feeling and Kiner’s determination to feed the homeless and the hungry is bolstered by Matthew 25:35 (NKJV): “for I was hungry and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger and you took Me in.”

“We serve between 70 and 100 people a day right now, and going once a day with one truck,” said Kiner, thanking Shelby County government and several county commissioners for funding the non-profit’s first homeless food truck.

“I love the food truck,” said Keara Portlock, who lost her job at a fast-food restaurant about four months ago. “It’s a great establishment. They’re considerate to homeless people.”

Originally from Massachusetts, Portlock has lived in Memphis for a year. Without income, the 25-year-old shelters at churches. Though her predicament may be grave, homelessness hasn’t dampened her spirit.

Flashing a grateful smile, Portlock said this about the food truck: “They serve good meals every day. Nine times out of 10, it will be hot.” 

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Activist Georgia King Only Thought About Helping Others

 

Activist Georgia King stands before a large-scale photo
of striking sanitation workers carrying "I AM A MAN"
signs in front of Clayborn Temple A.M.E. Church.

MEMPHIS, TN – One of the biggest fights that Memphis activist Georgia Anna King was involved in was with Memphis Housing Authority (MHA), a federally-funded housing agency.

Never one to shrink from a fight, the longtime activist, known as “Mother Georgia King,” gave it her best on the battlefield for the poor and downtrodden. She died Feb. 7 at the age of 82.

King was moved to action after learning that MHA had begun the process of relocating senior residents from several public housing developments after opting into the Rental Assistance Demonstration (RAD) Program.

RAD allows private ownership of public housing properties to be converted into Section 8 housing. King also had to vacate her home in Jefferson Square, in Downtown Memphis. 

King’s tenacity and determination to get things done was widely known and undergirded by other activists and friends. It wasn’t unusual for King to organize and rally the community around causes she championed.

“Here was a woman whose health was horrible, but she kept a sham of it because of what she wanted to do for the people,” said Ann Yates, who’d known the activist since 2010.

“She was always wallowing in trying to help the downtrodden,” said Yates, owner of The Bazaar that King frequented. “She was like my ‘ace boon coon,’” and added, “We had a saying that ‘I’m only a phone call away.’”

Yates was indeed a phone call away when King needed her for any given reason – perhaps to talk about the vicissitudes of life, or maybe a campaign that she was involved in.

Since King was a bus rider, Yates would often transport her to events, including “all my birthday parties I gave. In fact, I have more than 70 pictures in my [cell] phone of places me and Georgia went to together.”

King always found a way to get to her destination – even if she had to ride the MATA (Memphis Area Transit Authority) bus. In 2012, she founded the Memphis Bus Riders Union, a grassroot organization fighting for better public transportation.

In 1989, King and other leaders led a contingent called the New Exodus Walkers on a 250-mile walk from Roanoke, Va., to the steps of the Capitol to urge Congress to make the homeless a priority.

King had fought for the homeless since 1960 when she was 20 years old. She also worked with the mentally ill and the chemically dependent and sought to open a mission for the homeless.

 Ondera Heggie, King’s eldest daughter, said she and her sister would accompany their mother to events when they were children. “Being a child, we accompanied her to a lot of places.”

Heggie said she watched her mother evolve from the entertainment world to civil rights activism to a spiritual person who loved the Lord. “It allowed her to cross all racial and ethnic lines,” she said.

“My mother didn’t see color or race,” added Marlena McClatchey, King’s other daughter. “She helped everybody; she loved everybody. Even if you were no good, she found the good in you anyway.”

McClatchey said she’s “just floored and honored” seeing the impact that her mother had made in the community and the many lives she had touched including the motherless and the fatherless.

When Stanley Campbell loss his mother in 2020, King stepped in to fill the void and ease the pain. “She said, ‘Cam, I think your mother wants me to be your mother figure here on earth.’”

Nicknamed “Cam Mtenzi,” Campbell is a community activist and proprietor of the House of Mtenzi, a word meaning artist in Swahili. He’s known King for more than 20 years.

“My mom is gone; now Mother King is gone,” he said, and referred to King as his “guardmother (sic).”

Campbell remembers speaking with King a month ago when she was gravely ill in the hospital. “She would call me and say, ‘Cam, what are you doing? What’s next on the agenda.’” 

King always thought about others, Campbell said. “In her last days, she was a giver on her sick bed. She wasn’t thinking about herself.”

Heggie added: “She was just little Georgia King who loved God and loved His people.”

“She will be truly missed,” McClatchey said.

Campbell is Compelled to Feed and Clothe the ‘Forgotten Souls’

 

Stanley Campbell Sr. has been feeding and clothing
the homeless for more than 30 years. His "Forgotten Souls
Fall Festival" kicks off Thanksgiving Day.
(Photo by Wiley Henry)

Stanley Campbell Sr. has been feeding and clothing the homeless for more than 30 years. But a dream he had in 2011 was confirmation from God that he needed to do more. 

On Nov. 25 – Thanksgiving Day – Campbell expects to feed, clothe, and dispense hand sanitizer, hygiene products, socks, gloves, hats and scarfs during the 15th annual “Forgotten Souls Fall Festival” from 9 a.m. to noon.  

More than 300 homeless men, women and children benefit from Campbell’s benevolence and charity four times a year during each spring, summer, fall and winter “festival.” 

This season is no different. The homeless will find their way to the parking lot of Campbell’s House of Mtenzi at 1289 Madison Ave. in Midtown Memphis, where a chockful of necessities awaits them.

The House of Mtenzi, a word meaning artist in Swahili, is a museum of historical significance – from civil rights-era artifacts to family mementos in honor of Campbell’s mother, the late Thelma Brownlee, who bore nine children. 

Known by his nickname, “Cam Mtenzi,” Campbell refers to his large family as “Ma & 9 Mustard Seeds.” He is guided by the spirit of his mother and embraced by his siblings.  

It was his mother, he said, who taught her children to always think of people who’re less fortunate. He remembers tagging behind her to community events as early as six years old and witnessing charity and philanthropy in action.

“I saw her working in the trenches in the community [in South Memphis],” he said, “and I couldn’t help but follow my mom.” 

When Campbell managed Hardy’s Shoe Store in his early 20s, for example, he purchased up to 100 pairs of new and discounted tennis shoes with his salary and gifted them to kids in the housing projects. 

“I did this for about three years,” he said. “This was the beginning stage of me taking the bull by the horns.”

In 1997, Campbell managed Marty’s Clothing Store in the Frayser community and took a two-week vacation to experience living homeless on the street. 

“It was early November; it was cool nights,” he said. “I experienced the underground lost society of the homeless.”

After his experience, he was able to relate more to the homeless in their own world with greater understanding and empathy and do as much as he can to help mitigate their plight.

It was in 2011 when Campbell’s dream came to him as a directive of sorts to increase his commitment to the homeless. His dream may seem bizarre to some. But to Campbell, it was a calling from God.

Campbell saw himself in his old neighborhood at the top of a hill looking down. “The hill was made of dead people,” he said. “The whole landscape was made of dead people – the parking lot, the buildings. The whole city was deserted, almost.”

The sordid images of dead people were enough to jar him awake, he said, after which a voice came to him when he was fully conscious. He surmised the voice to be that of God giving him a directive. 

“The voice of The Most High said, ‘Clean it up!’” which Campbell interpreted as his mission to clean up the homeless population in Memphis. It seemed a daunting task, but not impossible given Campbell’s decades-long work in the homeless community. 

“It blew me away,” said Campbell, who first started having dreams and visions in 2008 and writing them down. This one was inscribed on his heart and in his mind, and he responded forthwith.

The “Forgotten Souls Fall Festival” is the byproduct of Campbell’s experience with the homeless population and his temerity to fulfill a dream after heeding the voice of “The Most High.”

Campbell has the will and the determination to help people who’re less fortunate, but there aren’t any grants so far to match his big heart. He does receive small donations – both monetary and in-kind – from individuals, small businesses, and organizations.  

He calls them “The Forgotten Souls Coalition.”

When hungry and homeless people are brought to Campbell’s attention, he springs into action, with or without funding, he said. Funding simply helps to defray the cost of bringing his ideas to fruition.

Either way, Campbell is driven to tend the needs of the homeless population – even if he must spend his own money. 

“They’re still our brothers and sisters,” he said. “That’s why I never stop.”