|
|
|
People line up hours early seeking help for gas bills Reprinted
from the Birmingham News, November 6, 2001
By
CARLA CR0WDER News
staffwriter Daley
Palmore set out with his cane at pitch-black 5 a.m. Monday hoping to outpace the
gas company's shut-off notice. The
69-year-old retired cook clutched the worn, brown-paper sack that holds his
important papers and silently took his place in line outside Greater Birmingham
Ministries on 12th Avenue North. "It
got to $1,000," he said of his overdue Alagasco
bill. "Now it's down to $500 something." The
line for monthly utility bill assistance had begun to form seven hours earlier,
just after television's Emmy Awards concluded and the World Series wrapped
up.
It trailed 30 yards up the sidewalk,
refugees from cold homes standing in the cold.
Some huddled under quilts and comforters, ghostlike in the downtown
gloom. Other people slept in cars, their heaters churning fumes into the
streets. Greater
Birmingham Ministries accepts applications the first Monday of every month
from people who need financial help. The inter-denominational charity,
generally, can afford to pay bills for 40 families per month. Last year's spike
in natural gas prices has exacerbated need, with 21,000 families statewide
still without heat. Word
has spread that you better get to GBM before the doors open at 9 a.m., but the
lines are forming earlier than ever. Karen
Cook, 46, draped in mismatched bedclothes, arrived at 10:30 p.m., Sunday and became
No. 1 in line. “The last time I came I was No. 62,” she said. She has learned her lesson. Ms. Cook battles a battery of health problems, and breathes with the help of an oxygen tank. As the line grew and people lit cigarettes, she had to abandon the oxygen to her friend’s car out of fear that the smoke would ignite it. It was a hard night, and Mrs. Cook was protective of her spot up front. So protective, she and the other early birds started their own sign-up sheet, with names and times of arrival. The
low during their wait was 42 degrees, according to the National Weather
Service. The temperature rose to 43 by 6 a.m. By then, the line had swelled to
more than 100 people. There
was also Shaunta Frazier, 22, nine months pregnant and living in an apartment
with no heat, electricity or water. There
was Brenda Jordan, 57, who takes pain medication daily for rheumatoid arthritis.
“I didn't take none last night because
I knew I wouldn't get down here if I took it,” she said. Danette
Boyd, 42, was there, the hood of her pink coat tied tightly around her face like
a child preparing for snow. Her day
started at 3:15 a.m., which put her at No. 39 on the list.
“I had been using crack for 11 years, and I went into treatment 16
months ago,” Ms. Boyd said. A
week ago, she moved out of the rehabilitation house into an apartment.
But she cannot get the gas turned on, because she has an outstanding bill
of $732. It accrued, she said, while she was in
rehab, and a friend stayed in her apartment. Although the gas had been
shut off, he found a way to reconnect it, and left her with the bill. She
has a part-time job as a cook. She
has an apartment, but no furniture. Blankets, but no bed. Sobriety but not stability. “All
I want is to stay clean and sober,” she said. There
were few smiling faces. Michelle
Hopson, a mother of three, did homework sitting on the sidewalk.
She’s taking a 12-week certified nursing assistant course and is
optimistic about employment, with all the job listings on the bulletin board at
her school. Her heat wasn’t
off; she was trying to pay down a $600 bill but feared the disconnect notice was
not far away. With
all the money they're sending to the (Sept, 11) disaster fund, they've forgotten
about the their ow state,” she said. Someone
made a coffee run, sharing with strangers. She was the same woman holding a
place in line for her 83-year-old grandfather, with a $619 bill, while he slept
in the van. About
8:30 a.m., the doors unlocked, mercifully early, and the crowd pushed inside
GBM’s building. The place was packed, but bodies were still outside. GBM
veteran case worker Sarah Price tried to explain, to console, to suggest other
agencies. “The only thing I can say is we’ve got as many people in this
building as we can help,” she said. “I know how you feel to be turned
around, but there’s nothing I can do.” The
sun was shining on Palmore as he leaned on his cane and listened to Ms. Price.
He guessed he would beg lenience from the gas company. “They didn't
call my name,” he said. “Ain’t nothing I can do. They say they got
all they can take.” Later
in the day, GBM employees discussed again the extreme need. They’ll try to assist
65 families in November to try to cover as many as possible in the predawn line. It
was unknown late Monday whether Palmore got the word.
|
|
|
2304 12th Avenue North, Birmingham, AL 35234 (205) 326-6821 Fax: (205) 252-8458
|