Kip's Community Pantry

And the toilet paper reckoning that showed us what we are made of.

My friend Kip lives in Portland, Oregon. He rents a cute little bungalow in a middle-class neighborhood in SouthEast. I've only seen Kip in person twice, but on Facebook, he pops up several times a day, and we comment on each other's posts.

Kip gives a shit. About our world, the planet, equality, and justice. He loves animals, especially his cat Walden, who is the supermodel of Kip's Facebook page. If you don't like cats or cat pictures, you can't be a friend of Kip's :)

I played a house concert in his living room a couple of years ago. It was the first house concert Kip ever hosted. We put a shout-out in Portland to fill a date on our tour, and Kip responded first.

A year ago exactly, I was down, in bed with a vice in my chest, short of breath with bone-crushing fatigue there are no words to describe. The news reported numbers that today seem like chump change, showing videos of empty grocery shelves and one dude's garage completely full, floor to ceiling, of toilet paper. Yes, toilet paper. Do you remember the TP frenzy?

It was the real deal. Costco, Fred Meyer, Walgreens, Safeway, any store you can name ran out of toilet paper. People hoarded it like it was gold - like it was sweet cake during a famine. And I will admit… I ordered a case from Who Gives A Crap? and stashed that environmentally conscious, recycled butt paper away in the pantry. 50 rolls, just for me!

Kip bought toilet paper too. And a dozen new fleece blankets. But due to the extremely big heart in his teddy bear chest, he and his kids placed single rolls of that paper-gold in plastic bags, wrote funny, sweet notes on them, and closed the bags with twistie ties. He grabbed a shoebox from the closet and piled the blankets inside. Then he walked out that evening and put the goods on top of the cement retaining wall in his front yard. He whipped out a Sharpie and wrote, "Please Take If You Need!" on the lid of the box.

I know this because he took a photo and posted it on Facebook, with this comment:

“Tomorrow going hunting for a cheap glass door cabinet. This [box] won’t    survive long in the rain.”

Meanwhile, on CNN that same night, there were fistfights over the last few rolls left on the shelf in some city, USA. And my 50 rolls were safely tucked away in the pantry.

I was glued to Kip’s Facebook feed.

“Dude, you are a saint.”

I was thinking the same thing. I’m glad she posted that.

“I'm pretty lucky to have the level of comfort I do, and while I do - because that's always subject to change. I'm happy to try to help make a few things easier for other people.”

The thing is, it’s not bullshit. This is Kip. He means it. 

Kip got in his car and drove across town to the best place in the entire universe to pick up used stuff: The Rebuilding Center, down the street from Mississippi Studios. And just like that, Kip’s Community Pantry was born. I felt like I was watching a Netflix series in real-time.

That brave, little pantry cabinet stayed outside by itself all night, every night, leaning against the wall in front of Kip's house. During the day, its shelves were stocked with socks, ramen, and other non-perishable or quick-cook foods Kip would buy when he made the trek to the store or from the neighbors who would throw stuff in. Daily, Kip would saunter down his sidewalk, sometimes with Walden in tow, and see what was left.

Mostly, the cabinet was emptied of all but one or two random things.

For months, through the cold northwest winter, people who were struggling or houseless came by the Community Pantry at night. Kip realized it was hard for them to shop in a dark cabinet. So he went to the store and bought a couple of stick-up solar lights and placed them inside the cabinet, so folks could see what was offered.

Then Kip lost his job.

A few days later, one sunny morning in February, he went outside to check on the cabinet. It was ransacked and sustained some damage. His post punched me in the gut that day. I know in my heart of hearts, if that had been me, I probably would have been a little pissed and might have even thrown a "goddamit!" at the sky.

Not Kip.

“Really happy the most serious of repairs always seem to be needed on nicer days, and you really couldn't ask for a nicer day than today.”

Another evening, a houseless man approached the pantry and took a bunch of supplies out. Kip described how his initial thought was to judge or be angry that the person was taking so much. When the person left, he went out to survey the damage. He opened the cabinet door and realized the person did take some supplies but left others and restocked it with new, unopened items. He figured it was a good trade. 

“Elin and Colby loaded up the pantry earlier, then an unhoused person stopped by and grabbed a bunch of things then added a bunch of things from his gear. It's weird that even for as long as I've been supporting people, trying to help others, I still have to keep unlearning some of my own predispositions. Another light was nabbed, but I already ordered extras - do rather than being annoyed. I have to remind myself that light comes at a premium to people who are just trying to survive. I wish I had the money to buy a hundred solar lights, but things are going to get a lot tougher in March, so I'm trying to be conservative - something that goes against my very nature. Fingers and whatever else crossed for employment soon.”

A few of Kip's friends donated some money to help him buy more solar lights and restock food and supplies. People started messaging him, asking what was needed.

“Things that go quickly are the things you'd expect: instantly edible foods,   blankets, socks, hand warmers. I still have a few essentials I need to pick   up tomorrow.”

The little cabinet was getting restocked, one way or another. On March 3rd, Kip posted a photo of a nice piece of pottery, a decorative plate, and a book that was left on the shelf the night before. The only thing he said in that post:

"Interesting things appear."

Four nights later, I was scrolling one more time before bed, and Kip's post caught my attention, with a hazy photo of a big truck parked at an odd angle on the street outside his house.

"So the folks with the very fancy truck were back again yesterday afternoon and cleared out the entire pantry. There were a lot of staple foods and ready-to-eat foods in there. They also pulled up at an angle blocking the street. The rules, which are basic, are clearly posted. Please take only what you need. I'm pretty sure this is an intentional malevolent act."

It was the first time I felt concerned for Kip… and the Pantry since the whole thing began last year. And it was the first time I heard him question the intention of someone who was taking things. After a couple of raids, the truck never returned.

Then Kip got notice that he had to move out of his home.

A week or so later, Portland got snow. Not the snowpocalypse they endured a few years ago, but enough to make a beautiful mess of things. The latest Pantry post was a photo of the back of Kip's blue car, hatchback open, stuffed with food and supplies. The photo right after it - the Pantry with a few inches of snow on top, restocked.

"The community pantry should be pretty well stocked the next few weeks between generous friends, neighbors dropping things off, and some core supplies from JOHS."

No matter what happens, I trust Kip will land in a good place. Maybe he'll put together another Pantry and start a Community Pantry free-franchise. For now, the Original Kip's Community Pantry is still going, still helping people get what they need most. No questions asked.

I'll let you know when the next season of this non-Netflix series is available :)

And Kip, if you're reading this… thanks for being a good human being. And showing us what we could be made of. ☆

Check out this non-profit Kip created called Move Food.

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(Photos by Kip)