Shopper Blog: Warming centers served hundreds in Knoxville’s snowy deep freeze

FARRAGUT

Warming centers served hundreds in Knoxville’s snowy deep freeze

Nancy Anderson, Shopper News

It was the worst snowstorm since ’93, most would agree. For people without homes, the newly formed Office of Housing Stability arranged months ago for warming centers to be at the ready when cold hit.

It wasn’t all smooth sailing for the three, and eventually four, warming centers, but lives were saved. According to Erin Read, director of the Office of Housing Stability, the office was expecting about 125 people across all three warming centers. Surprisingly, the number was more like 288 people.

The Salvation Army opened its doors for the Magnolia United Methodist Church overflow.

“(Knox Area Rescue Mission) is an unsung hero of this whole operation; they did transportation to hundreds of people to the warming centers,” Read said.

“Last winter we had four days of extreme cold. A few churches opened their doors. Magnolia United Methodist served about 80 people during those four days. The city and the county split the cost of a warming tent on Broadway, complete with propane heaters.

“We saw what Magnolia UMC did and thought, moving forward, we can do better than a warming tent.”

Do better they did. There were three warming centers initially: Vestal United Methodist Church in South Knoxville, 115 Ogle Ave.; Magnolia Avenue United Methodist Church in East Knoxville, 2700 East Magnolia Ave.; and Cokesbury United Methodist Church in West Knoxville, 9919 Kingston Pike, which opened Fig Tree, a community outreach facility for unhoused people.

Read said they partnered with Metro Drug Coalition to make sure there was plenty of Narcan at the facilities.

East Knox Free Medical Clinic came out to all three of the warming centers because some of the guests had frostbite and other minor wounds.

“Lots of people lost feeling in their hands and feet. The East Knox Free Medical clinic were amazing and spent many hours tending to the guests,” Read said.

Katie McIlwaine, director of Fig Tree, said she was thankful for all the volunteers.

“We started planning months ago when Erin Read approached us. We purchased 25 cots and got more from KARM because we had more guests than we thought we would. We serviced about 185 clients over seven days and were lucky enough to have about 18 volunteers a day,” said McIlwaine.

Food began to be a problem. There were plenty of sack lunches, but sandwiches got old quickly and the guests needed something more substantial in their bellies. Enter volunteers from the community, area restaurants, and caterers who brought in pizza, casseroles, and even BBQ chicken to one facility, receiving cheers from the guests.

“The whole community rallied around us and gave us what we needed from food to pillows and blankets. It was pretty special to watch,” said McIlwaine.

“We developed a routine of switching out from cots to tables after breakfast and after supper. It was all hands on deck; even the guests helped. They helped clean and unclog toilets, whatever needed to be done.

“Everyone pulled together and I couldn’t be more proud,” said McIlwaine.

Info: www.cokesbury.tv/figtree

OPINION

Time to rethink those snow days

Leslie Snow, Shopper News

I don’t know what to say about the woman who wrote last week’s column. I don’t recognize her when I look in the mirror, and I sure as heck don’t like her.

I don’t like her joyful take on falling snow or the way she traipsed merrily through the ice to feed the hungry birds waiting by her feeder. The world doesn’t need another Snow White. The world doesn’t need another Pollyanna, pretending that 10 inches of snow and freezing rain is a treat or that a snow day is a gift from the Great and Powerful Superintendent of Knox.

But last week, that excessively cheerful version of me wrote a happy little column about finding joy in a snow day. And all I can say in my defense is that I wrote it on that glorious first day when Knoxville looked like a postcard from some winter wonderland.

On that beautiful afternoon when those soft flakes were falling, Buttercup and I were laughing and playing in the snow while my husband built a roaring fire in the fireplace. I was eating chocolate cake and wearing cozy pajamas. I was happy and guilt-free knowing all the people I take care of, as the poster-child for the sandwich generation, were safely tucked inside. I couldn’t get to them if I tried.

And on the second day, still feeling good, I made a list of all the projects I could complete while we were snowed in. I had big plans to clean my bedroom closet and organize the laundry room. I was going to emerge from my forced hibernation a better, tidier version of myself.

But by the third day my husband was anxious about not being able to get to work and I was worried about his stress.

By the fourth day, I was planted in front of my living room window to see if any cars could get up or down the big hill at the front of our subdivision. They could not.

By day five of our confinement my husband was grouchy about not being able to get to work and I was worried about my stress.

Then I lost myself.

I forgot what day it was.

I forgot the time.

I remembered to shower, but I stopped changing my clothes.

My dirty sweats became my uniform.

“Why bother” became my new mantra.

The less I did, the less I wanted to do. I ignored the old clothes piled in my closet. I disregarded the clutter in my laundry room.

I made a Leslie-sized imprint on the couch.

By day six of my internment, the guilt I tried so hard to minimize that first day found me again. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t safe to drive. I was worried about my mother being alone for the week. I was worried about my mother-in-law, sick with a cold. And I was worried about Jordan, snowed in by herself with three kids while her husband was away.

On day seven, my husband and I planned our prison break. We drove to the top of the giant hill in our neighborhood, held our breath, and hoped for the best. At one point I called out, “I changed my mind!” and he yelled back, “It’s too late now.”

When we made it safely out of the subdivision, with the sun shining and the ice starting to melt, I heard Pollyanna’s voice in my head saying, “See, that wasn’t so bad!”

So, I shoved one of my snow-covered mittens in her mouth and kept on driving.

Leslie Snow may be reached at snow column@aol.com

Political happenings this week in Knoxville | Victor Ashe

This article originally appeared on Knoxville News Sentinel: Shopper News brings you the latest happenings in your community