All He--Or, Rather, The Kids--Need Are The Bikes

June has just ended.  So, for most students, has the school year.

I recall how, in the old days,  some kids tossed notebooks, pencils and rulers into the air as they dashed away from their school building.  Do kids still do that?  Somehow I have a hard time imagine them tossing laptops or tablets--or their phones--into the air.  

One thing that probably hasn't changed is this:  Kids leave school with visions of long days with friends, at the playground or the beach--or riding bikes.  Maybe they'll ride their bikes to those places.

That is, if they have bikes.

David Yandell has long known that many kids don't have bikes because their families can't afford them.  Over the past twenty years, he's distributed about 2000 bikes in Portland.  In the beginning, he did his own fundraising, but some years back a local developer-turned- philanthropist named Homer Williams got wind of what Yandell was doing and became a partner in the program.

But, this year, Yandell and Williams discovered that, as the saying goes, there are some things money can't buy.  In this case, it was the bikes themselves.  Wal-Mart, normally one of their major sources, said it didn't have any bikes available for them.  The reason is one we've heard since the early days of the pandemic: supply chain disruptions.

More than likely, there are now hundreds of similar bike-distribution programs across the US.  While some may have been suspended, but most folks who undertake such work are dedicated.  And, in Yandell's and William's case, savvy:  Few, if any, such programs have operated for longer than theirs.  

So far, they've acquired half of the 200 bikes they'd promised to kids.  They worked their contacts, not only to find other sources, but to put pressure on Wal-Mart to come up with some bikes.

Turns out, their powers of persuasion are working.  A Wal-Mart representative, citing the value of good community relations, said the company wants to help Yandell get what he needs and believes the bikes are available somewhere in the company's network.

Say what you will (and I would say a lot) about the Wal-Mart's policies and practices.  I think they, or, at least, the representative, know that you don't let down folks like David Yandell because he knows  there are some things money can't buy--like the feeling of being a kid (or a grown-up) riding a bike on a summer day.

A Bicycle Ministry For The Poor

Everyone needs a place to live.  To get or keep that, most people need a job.  

To get or keep a job--or simply to survive--most people have to go to appointments with doctors, social workers and agencies.  They may have  training sessions or meetings with support groups.  Or they might be in school.

To get to those meetings, appointments, classes and jobs, they need a way to get to them--i.e., transportation.  In the US, there is little or no public transportation outside of central neighborhoods in large American cities.  Even within such communities, those trains and buses may be inaccessible for one reason or another.  Or their fares might be out of reach for someone without a job or home.

A person who is trying to get his or her life together may not have a car, or may not be able to drive.  That makes getting to work, school, meetings or appointments difficult, if not impossible, for things are usually not within walking distance.

Thus, a bicycle may be the only way for such a person to get around.  Of course, if the person doesn't have income, he or she can't buy a bike.  But even if someone is given a bike or finds it on the street or in the trash, it will probably need to be fixed.  Even the most minimal repairs--even if the person in need can do them--cost money.  A new tire and tube or cable, let alone a shop's labor to install them, can really set someone's budget back.  If "they have to pay $50 or $60 for a repair," says Stephen Bently, "that is money out of their pocket they can use for something else--food, clothing, basic needs."  Not having to pay "is a huge savings for people who are trying to survive on the street," he says.



Bently is a Deacon at St. John's Episcopal Church in downtown Stockton, California.  A little over two years ago, he started a ministry called HUB (Helping Urban Bicyclists) in an old storefront owned by his church.  In that time, he has worked on 250 bikes, including one belonging to Ghafoor Khan.  "I rely on it a lot," says the 50-year-old who is trying to get back on his feet.

He might become one of Bently's success stories:  folks who got jobs and, in some cases, saved up enough to buy cars--and donate their bikes back to the ministry.

Bently says that his work is part of his role as a deacon, which is to "minister to people who have particular needs."  For the people he helps, that need was transportation.  That is why he fixes bikes, and even builds them from scratch.  It gives the people he serves one less thing to worry about, he says.

To Find A Bike, Go Where The Donuts Are

Years ago, a fellow but very-senior faculty member was observing and evaluating one of my classes.  She wrote favorably of me, though she commented on my seeming lack of confidence.  "Remember, you are doing God's work," she told me.

I was taken aback because I hadn't taken her for a religious person.  For that matter, I was somewhat surprised--for reasons I can't recall--that she would even invoke a deity.  Perhaps I had assumed, wrongly, that she would share most other humanities faculty members'--and my--non-religiosity.

(I sometimes joke that the Carmelite nuns of my school tried to beat the devil out of me but exorcised me of my faith instead.)

Anyway, I think it's fair to ask this:  If there is indeed a god, what would that god's work be?

Of course, being a cyclist and bike blogger, I'd like to think that it somehow involves bicycles and bicycling.  Benjamin Franklin once quipped that beer is a sign that God loves us and wants us to be happy.  I would say the same about bicycles.

And, if God's work does involve bicycles, could a bakery be a theatre, staging area or workshop?

Larry Batten is the coordinator of Chain Reaction Ministries.  The program, based in The First Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) of Oklahoma City, provides bikes for people who need basic transportation to get to their jobs.  Not surprisingly, most of the recipients have recently started their jobs or work for low wages.  Among their ranks, also not surprisingly, are some recovering addicts and new or recent parolees.

Chain Reaction Ministries coordinator Larry Batten

The point of the program, according to Batten, is to help such people get back on track with their lives.  That is the reason why, he says, the bikes aren't given to just anybody. "We are providing a hand up, not a handout," he explains.  Thus, the program requires takes  would-be recipients who are referred by various agencies, and requires those would-be recipients to present some sort of proof of employment.

The program has grown much faster than he or anyone else imagined.  So, they are almost always in need of bikes and parts. Sometimes bikes are stripped for parts, while the more expensive ones are traded at nearby Al's Bicycles for tires, tubes, chains and other parts that are needed continuously.  "Al's been amazing to us," Batten says.

His search for bikes sometimes goes far and wide.  One thing he  learned, however, is to go where the bikes are--or, more precisely, where the bikes might be.  Hence program volunteer Tom Russell's trip to Brown's Bakery.  It seems that Brown's doughnuts have quite a reputation, which is the reason why the bakery is a magnet for cyclists.  Indeed, as far back as the 1970's it served as the destination for  the Oklahoma Bicycle Society's Donut ride, a meandering ride through historic neighborhoods in Oklahoma City.

Batten says that the church has a repair shop equipped with tools donated by the local rotary club.  Two mechanics work there.  They are not mere "wrenches", though:  They empathize with their clients because they were once homeless themselves.

There are other "happy endings," evidenced by the many "thank-you" letters Batten receives.  Some of the recipients continue to ride after they get their lives together.  Others, though, buy cars--and give their bikes back to Chain Reaction Ministries.

If you want to donate, or simply want more information, you can call Chain Reaction Ministries at  (405) 525-6551 or Batten himself at (405) 479-3809.

Triangle Spokes Group: New Bikes For Poor Kids In North Carolina

There are very few things that make more kids happier than finding a bike under the Christmas tree.  Of course, for many--especially in these economic times--such a thing seems out of the bounds of possibility.

Someone I know in North Carolina has sent me word about a charity that's doing something for kids whose parents (or whoever is raising them) can't afford to give them bikes for Christmas.

Triangle Spokes Group is named for the "Research Triangle" of Raliegh-Durham-Chapel Hill, which is the organization's home base.  This is the sixth year TSG is giving away bikes and helmets to needy kids in their area.  Their goal for Christmas 2012 is 500 bikes and helmets.  They're able to get a bike and a helmet for $70 from Huffy.  What that means, of course, is that they need money, which can be donated through their website.

If any of you know of organizations in your own area, or some other, that's doing similar work, please leave a comment with your contact information.

One thing that my involvement with Hurricane Sandy relief efforts has shown me is that it's the small, locally-based organization that are most effective in helping.  When I went to the Rockaways, I saw groups from various schools, colleges, universities and houses of worship (including the Sikh Temple of Queens, as well as various unaffiliated individuals, helping people who said they hadn't seen anyone from the Red Cross or FEMA.  So I am especially pleased to see an organization like TSG doing what it's dooing.