On the "Other Side" of the Counter
An oft-repeated sentiment in the Project Host Soup Kitchen is that working here is a reminder of how quickly someone can end up on the “other side” of the counter, as the person in need of a meal, rather than the person serving it.
For some, it’s a missed paycheck that brings them to the Soup Kitchen. For others, it’s an inadequate social net after retirement. For others still, it’s a downward spiral of desperation and addiction. For many, it’s a cycle of poverty over which they have no control.
One Soup Kitchen guest in particular who illustrates how quickly and unexpectedly someone can lose control of their circumstances and end up homeless and in need of social services is John McCroan. And, at the same time, he is a poster child for how a network of agencies can help someone get back on their feet.
John grew up in Macedonia, South Carolina, and had the background and education to live a stable, successful life. He attended Emmanuel College for his undergraduate education and received his graduate degree in Classical Voice from the University of Georgia.
With credentials in hand and a passion for performance in his heart, John moved to New York City to pursue a performing arts career. He performed at the Metropolitan Opera and was living with his partner in the West Village in a penthouse. From the outside, it looked like things were going very well for John, but he was miserable and struggling for control over his life.
John was being drawn deeper and deeper into a controlling, abusive relationship that ultimately led to his homelessness—a situation he was shocked to find himself in, given his background. “I went to NYC certainly not expecting to experience the things that I did and the circumstances that I eventually ended up being placed in.”
What initially seemed like a partnership revealed itself to be a predatory relationship. John was abused and drugged by his partner. The goal was to break John’s spirit and traffic him.
“I went from being a successful individual who could function in society to being someone with extreme trauma who could not even support themselves.”
Slowly, John came to the realization that he needed to get out. Unbeknownst to John, his partner had been systematically undermining John’s relationships with friends, telling people that John was an alcoholic and addict who needed to hit rock bottom to recover. Finding no one in New York to turn to, John entered a domestic violence shelter.
Ultimately, he determined he had to leave NYC. With no job, a thin and strained support network, and having completely abandoned his life and everything he’d worked to build in New York, John moved to Greenville and eventually took up residence at the Miracle Hill shelter.
It was there that John first heard of Project Host—a referral that started out as a place to get a good meal, but that would turn out to provide so much more.
“The first time I came here, I was impressed and grateful that we could have a meal that was from a garden with fresh vegetables—have a meal that people had prepared who genuinely cared. Project Host doesn’t just give you whatever is left. I feel like you guys really care. The processes you go through, the planning—everything you do is guest focused.”
As time passed, John worked on healing and recovery, attributing a role in that process to Project Host:
“Recovery is mind, body, and spirit. You can’t just work on the mind. You can’t just work on the spirit. You have to work on the body. And what’s really important for people who are homeless is to get the things that are necessary so they are not malnourished, and you can get those kinds of meals here.”
John and his service dog Ace became “regulars” at Project Host, and over time, John developed a relationship with the staff. It started with conversations about Ace and grew from there:
“I’d come and get food, and I’d have Ace with me. Anne [one of two part-time Soup Kitchen Managers] would come up to me and ask if I needed dog food, and we’d always talk.”
Eventually, the subject of John’s attempts to find work came up. Having Ace proved to be a challenge because he couldn’t leave Ace at the shelter unattended, but accommodating Ace wasn’t something John wanted to negotiate with a new employer.
John settled on working for Jimmy Johns doing bike delivery, as that would allow him to take Ace along. He got a bike through Village Wrench, and First Baptist Church helped him get a carrier. “In my mind, it seemed really easy until I hooked up the 20-pound carrier with an 80-pound dog in it. And Greenville is not flat!”
As a solution, employees at Project Host offered to keep Ace in the administrative offices while John worked. John could deliver twice as much without toting Ace, earning double the money. Naturally, at doggy pickup and drop-off, John got into conversations with Project Host employees about obstacles he was facing, and more doors began to open.
Project Host Office Manager Debra Wray pointed John in the direction of HUD pandemic housing vouchers and connected him with local church that ultimately provided John with an apartment and furnishings. Now John is able to leave Ace at home and is working as a server at Copper River Grill, where he earns more money than running deliveries. Slowly, he is rebuilding his life.
John has expressed deep gratitude to Project Host and all of the agencies that he’s worked with along the way, each of which helped put a piece of his life’s puzzle back into place. Of Project Host he says:
“This isn’t just a place where you get a meal, but if you are willing and are earnest about your recovery process—be it homelessness or trauma or addiction—there are people who are willing to help you, and they all have connections. They are people who are not just working administratively, but who have been through these processes themselves. I always say to others in need of help that they should go over to Project Host because the food is great, and if I wouldn’t have gotten a meal here, I wouldn’t have gotten all of the other things here.”
Now that things are getting back on track, John is looking ahead to the future. He hopes to go back to school for mental health counseling and ultimately wants to open a ministry for gay male victims of domestic abuse and human trafficking.
He’s also excited for Project Host’s future and its current capital campaign.
“I think what you are trying to accomplish is creating a space where people feel comfortable and safe and communal. It’s more than creating a meal—it’s an experience. When you are out in the street and it’s 95 and humid, if you can come in for just a little while to escape the pressures or the trauma or the experience of being out on the street for just a moment to have a meal and have family, that’s so important. There’s more to being fed than just food.”
By Claudia Winkler