RICHMOND, Va. (AP) - He is pen-on-paper squiggles are written promptly at 8 a.m., eyes darting from the Maruchan chicken-flavored ramen noodle soup leaned against the high-protein dog chow to the elbow macaroni inventory that’s dwindled since he checked the night before.
People often arrive at the Little Free Pantry - one of at least five pantries of free food in the Richmond area modeled after Little Free Libraries - planted outside his house under the cover of night. It’s added anonymity as they deal with a situation they didn’t think they’d find themselves in: unemployed, in a pandemic, with no money and no food, asking for help.
Russell Hicks marks what’s needed to make sure people are taken care of if they decide to swing back - noting the favorites of pancake mixes, canned spaghetti and meatballs, rice, and boxes of macaroni and cheese. Six months after putting up the box built by his neighbors and tucked inside a neighborhood near Chesterfield County Airport, he’s come to know what people are looking for.
Then he closes the white-rimmed wooden cabinet doors, heads back up the driveway of the house he has shared with his wife, Lucy, for over 35 years - more than half of their 61 years of marriage - and lets the left-hand side of the pantry speak for itself: “Take what you need. Leave what you can.”
He doesn’t ask questions. He doesn’t wait for people to arrive.
He just hopes they do.
“(Russell) was out in the yard yesterday and this elderly couple pulled up and they asked him if the food was really free and he told him ‘Sure!,’” Lucy said. “And she said, ‘Oh, honey, we need it so badly.’”
Then she went for the syrup. Some pancake mix. A peanut butter jar.
“People in the beginning questioned and said, ‘Well, what if they just come and take everything?’ If that’s what they need, then that’s what they need,” Lucy continued. “But so far that hasn’t happened. … It’s doing a heart good.”
Throughout the pandemic, the box on Watchhaven Lane in Chesterfield has been emptied, refilled, emptied again.
It’s seen the faces of six-person families, new mothers, kids on bikes and father-daughter duos on walks.
They’ll take pasta. Spaghetti sauce. Ketchup. Mustard. Rice and then beans - whatever will keep them from going hungry, Russell said.
In recent weeks, the Hickses have seen an uptick in donations - baby formula, pet food and sugar packets that have taken over their kitchen table - and hands reaching in for what they can’t currently afford.
Nationwide, the battle against food insecurity - or the lack of consistent access to food - is ongoing and exacerbated by a pandemic that’s wreaked havoc on families and spiked unemployment rates. Before the COVID-19 outbreak, 13.7 million households did not know where their next meal was coming from, according to the U.S. Department of Agriculture.
That number has since doubled overall, and tripled among households with children, according to a study done by Northwestern University’s Institute for Policy Research. Food banks are doing what they can, but with millions in need, they’re inundated.
The Chesterfield Food Bank, which caters to a county population of nearly 353,000, has reported giving out 1 million meals per month and experiencing a more than half-mile lead-up to access meals. Little Free Pantries like the Hickses’ have helped alleviate the demand for those who don’t have the time to wait.
The idea, Lucy said, came from a combination of Pinterest and her daughter sharing stories of hours-long lines at local food banks.
More than five Little Free Pantries exist within the Richmond area. One in a Henrico County church parking lot. Another in Chesterfield inspired by Lucy and Russell. One in Shockoe Bottom and another on Forest Hill Avenue in front of a church. Lucy hopes more pop up.
As she talks about the increased traffic to what’s nicknamed Deanie’s Blessings Box, Lucy said it’s the spirit of her son, Deanie - who died in 1997 - guiding people toward the house and letting them know they’ll be safe here. They’ll be taken care of.
That’s who he was, Lucy said: someone who always helped.
Atop the white cabinet box, on an outdoor lantern, is a dedication to him and her neighbor’s 20-year-old daughter, who died suddenly in 2013.
“This light burns in honor of those watching from heaven,” it reads.
The ringing of the phone interrupted Lucy’s words. She’s settled into the habit of always answering.
“Hi, ma’am. I was just wondering what the location of the Blessings Box is?”
Lucy smiled.
“Yes sir,” she said. “It’s on Watchhaven Lane.”
Please read our comment policy before commenting.