Eight neatly made foam beds lie on the floor, each accompanied by a small metal trunk. The impression of a military barracks is undercut by the Torah scrolls on the far wall. The men who will sleep here tonight enter the room and settle, but rather than going to a mess hall for dinner, they cross the parking lot to Ascension Catholic Church.
They dine at the church because Congregation Beth David in Saratoga, the men’s home for the month, keeps a kosher kitchen — requiring those who use it to adhere to the rules of kashrut. Only breakfasts that don’t require cooking are eaten at the shul.
“I didn’t know there was such a thing as kosher meats,” said Terry Woods, previously a homeless man making use of Beth David’s shelter and now a night supervisor for the program. “When I heard ‘kosher,’ I thought pickles.”
For the past six years, the Conservative synagogue has worked in conjunction with Cupertino Community Services to provide shelter for homeless men during the month of June as a part of the rotating shelter program called Faith in Action. Eleven churches, along with Beth David, provide shelter, food and other necessities.
A Cupertino Community Services supervisor spends the night with the men, while Beth David provides a “greeter” to ensure a welcoming presence, and to make sure that dinner shows up. Up to 15 men at a time receive free housing for three months at different congregations while they make progress toward longer-term housing and, in most cases, employment.
According to Ronnie Gordon, who co-chairs Beth David’s social action committee, that may not be enough time.
“Sometimes we extend their stay because of how tight housing is in the area. We have an 80 percent success rate with the men finding work. But, lately, they’ve had to move out of the area to find reasonable rent,” said Gordon.
Woods, who now lives in Menlo Park, noted another difference.
“People in shelters today are different than they used to be,” he said. “They used to be drug addicts or drunks. They had serious issues. Now they are here for financial reasons.”
Over a year ago, financial reasons drove Woods to seek sanctuary at Beth David. At the time he was working for himself as a carpenter, and when he hit hard times, he had to sell his tools and then his truck.
“Once I lost my tools, there was no way for me to make an income. I had a little savings, but after living in a hotel, that ran out. I stayed in the shelter for about four months,” said Woods.
“I’m not a dummy,” he asserted, “I worked for 15 years at Raychem in the research and development area. I also have three years of college, with my third year at San Jose State in math and business.”
Gordon of Beth David finds Woods’ story all too common.
“People are coming to us with jobs who can’t afford their own housing due to how overpriced things are. The demographics have changed the last few years as the economy goes out of control,” said Gordon.
Rabbi Daniel Pressman of Congregation Beth David also noted the changing profile of homelessness.
“One homeless guy came to shul in a suit. You’d never pick him out of a lineup and say, ‘There’s the homeless guy.'”
Synagogue members didn’t all jump on the bandwagon when the homeless program was started “At the beginning,” said Pressman, “people were coming out of the woodwork and saying things like, ‘The homeless? You know what they’re like.’ But setting up the temple’s homeless shelter has been completely and utterly trouble free.
“We have a great social action committee; I can take little credit for this.”
Seema Cicerone of Saratoga has been involved from the first year. She is responsible for bringing in the non-perishable supplies for the month.
“It’s really a family responsibility. My husband helps me do the shopping at Costco and the supplies totally fill up our huge van. Then, our daughters help us unload, which takes over an hour. We have it down to a science,” she said.
Since the men can’t cook at the shul, Cicerone buys supplies, such as 28 boxes of cereal, 35 pounds of tuna and eight large packages of cheese. She’s even been known to boil eggs at home to bring to the men in the morning. And her family prepared a baked salmon for one of the evening meals.
The rabbi, too, along with his family, has prepared meals for the men.
“My wife believes in cooking for them like cooking for company. One night we brought in a turkey and the men were so happy. They’d had lasagna four nights in a row,” he said, laughing.
“Certain political factions have demonized the homeless,” he added. “But when our seventh-graders and high-schoolers have gone with their families and served food, they usually say, ‘They’re guys like us, just with bad luck. They weren’t my stereotype.'”
Cicerone voiced the same response as the kids.
“They aren’t transients with mental problems. All someone needs in life is a little misfortune, God forbid. I’d like to see more synagogues involved,” she said.
What Beth David has done for Woods has made all the difference. Now he holds two jobs: a supervisor for the program at night, and one in facilities management during the day. Through his participation in the program, he’s appreciated experiencing other religions.
“I’ve seen that people are no different. The people at Beth David are very friendly, very nice people. The main difference is that the Catholic church has services on Sunday, and they have services on Saturday.”
Woods, normally a garrulous speaker, became silent.
“These shelters,” he said after a long pause, “there’s a real need for these types of things.”
Gordon agrees.
“So many men in the program have come up to me and said, ‘If I hadn’t found this program, I wouldn’t be here,'” she said.
“We’re saving lives.”