More Missourians turning to charities for help in recession

KANSAS CITY, Mo -- Rusty Fletcher has ended a two-year stretch of living in Kansas City homeless shelters, after scraping for enough money to make a deposit on an efficiency apartment.

Now, the 33-year-old needs help paying the first month's rent. So he's come to the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception's relief center, which on this day is crowded with the homeless and poor.

"Sometimes I don't have anyplace else to turn. It's a lifesaver," said Fletcher, who lives on $80 a month in government disability for major depression and the wages his wife earns at a fast-food restaurant.

With the economy now officially in recession, more and more Missourians are seeking help from charities.

But the slump and an outpouring of disaster relief following the Sept. 11 attacks have bit into donations, forcing cutbacks at many agencies.

This holiday season -- when giving is traditionally at its peak -- Missouri charities say they need help providing the poor with utility and rent assistance, clothing and food.

Charities are urging Missourians to give money rather than clothes or canned goods, because cash can be transferred from one aim to another as needs change, and it covers agencies' operating costs.

Also, Harvesters food bank in Kansas City can get five meals with a dollar, much more than a donor could get at a grocery store, said Michelle Groner, the bank's community relations director.

The Metropolitan Lutheran Ministries in Kansas City is pinching pennies after declining contributions "across the board" have caused a 16 percent shortfall this year, said executive director Tom Ford.

"We turn the lights off when leaving rooms, lower the heater when we leave at night. We empty our own trash cans," Ford said.

Ford is hopeful the holiday season will reverse the yearlong trend.

Slightly off-target kettle takes and smaller donations from individuals may mean that each Salvation Army client gets less aid, said Roger Alexander, director of development for the Salvation Army of Western Missouri and Kansas.

While nearly all types of donations are down, the most marked decreases, charities say, are in small contributions from individuals -- reflecting declining income from the stagnant economy.

Hurt the most by that trend are the small agencies that often do not get large, corporate infusions.

"Our donations should be double than what they are," said the Rev. Larry Rice, who heads the New Life Evangelistic Center, whose shelters and broadcast outlets span the state. "I don't think it'll get better ... . Previous donors are now clients."

As a result, Rice reluctantly took out a $300,000 loan in October and is selling facilities in Kansas City and Branson.

At Immaculate Conception's overseer, Catholic Charities, the number of people seeking emergency services has been "overwhelming," said Lynn Flaherty, director of community relations. Many are seeking help paying utility bills.

State regulators have estimated that 29,000 households are already without utilities after not paying their bills last winter. They fear that 50,000 more could face disconnection.

With that in mind, the Public Service Commission voted in November to make it harder for utility companies to shut off past-due service this winter. But a state judge has temporarily blocked the change for two companies: Missouri Gas Energy and Atmos Energy Corp., which combined serve more than 600,000 customers across the state.

Seemingly insulated from the ebbing donations are nonprofit arts agencies.

The St. Louis Symphony reports fast progress on a $40 million fund-raising effort, and the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art in Kansas City is experiencing an increase in small donations, officials at the institutions said.

"People are looking within and close by to what's important in their lives," said Carter Dunkin, spokesman for the symphony. "As part of that, people who support such organizations are being more supportive."

Meanwhile, at Immaculate Conception's relief center, 47-year-old Larry is asking for a cane to steady his limp on the Kansas City streets where he lives.

"This can happen to anybody," said Larry, who gave only his first name and claims to be an out-of-work structural engineer. "It ain't a lazy thing."