A sobering trip downtown

Once a month, my wife takes an hour and a half off to go serve meals at the Dorothy Day Center. It is located in downtown St. Paul, just a couple of blocks from the Xcel Energy Center. But it is as if you are in a different universe.

Going down there is not heroic. Indeed, it's a little gesture. But, as the saying for a commercial goes, the rewards are priceless.

Yesterday, my wife needed help because one of her regulars wasn't available. As was the case for most of my less-than-stellar athletic career, I came off the bench to join in. I had been there a couple of times before and knew the drill. This time, I had dessert duty, dispensing donuts and cookies.

It is an amazing, humbling experience. About 11:45 or so, the door opens and people of all shapes, sizes and ages come through. Some seemed my age of 55. Some seemed a lot older. Some looked half my age.

But they all had just one thing in mind -- to get a full, warm meal. The gaunt, tight looks on their faces stay with you for a long time. A few of them grumbled a bit as they went through line. But the good majority of them said thank you when they got to me, mostly because I was at the end of the serving table.

A few folks asked for a specific type of donut. Although this is something that is discouraged (mainly because it holds up the line), I tried to do as requested. In just about every case, I would slyly smile and say, "Don't tell anybody I did that. Our secret, okay?" In most cases, the person smiled back. I suspect they liked the idea of having a happy secret with a fellow they didn't know.

There would be occasional breaks in the action when the room was filled. A supervisor would then get on a loudspeaker and ask folks to move along when they were done with lunch so others could come in to eat. It may surprise people to know most did just that.

There were the many expected sights - folks with walkers, young mothers with kids in strollers. But there were some sights and sounds you might not have thought would occur.

One fellow walked through with a blue tooth, the latest and greatest in cellular phones, attached to his ear. Another guy came through in an overcoat that, from afar, looked off the rack from Macy's. Upon closer inspection, I saw the seams that had been sewed back together. It takes all kinds.

Another guy walked through in shabby clothing muttering anti-Obama rhetoric. Even at Dorothy Day, you couldn't escape the election.

Then, in roughly 80 minutes, it was over. The supervisor said the final meal had been served. He said 403 people had come through line. As we spoke, I saw other workers were quietly moving folks along, sending them back to the sunny, but chilly outdoors.

After all, dinner would be served in another four hours or so and the room needed to be cleaned.

And the beat goes on.