Hot dog ministry: Young Christian volunteers provide dinner to the hungry and homeless

  • Posted: Sunday, October 2, 2011 12:01 a.m.
    UPDATED: Friday, March 23, 2012 9:24 p.m.
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Volunteers put the finishing touches on the hot dogs.
Volunteers put the finishing touches on the hot dogs.

Wade Spees // The Post and Courier

Motivated by faith, Leland and Sarah Brown set up their grill every Tuesday and distribute hot dogs to the homeless and needy in the area. They are assisted by friends and volunteers from local churches and institutions.

Danny Brown, a 59-year-old Army veteran staying at the Crisis Ministries homeless shelter, sits on a patch of grass as traffic rolls along Meeting Street. He's with five or six other men, young and old, also homeless, and all waiting for the hot dog ministry to get going in the empty lot across Jackson Street.

Many of them come to this corner every Tuesday at 5 p.m., rain or shine, when Leland and Sarah Brown (no relation to Danny) and other Christian volunteers distribute hot dogs to a couple of dozen hungry men and women with little means and, often, no reliable shelter.

"For people who don't have food, it's a good thing," Danny Brown says.

Pops, a gray-haired 69-year-old who goes by his nickname and opts to "live in the woods" nearby, said finding a free lunch isn't the problem. The soup kitchen at Crisis Ministries is a good place for that.

"It's hard to get breakfast and supper," he says.

So the hot dog ministry fills a need.

Leland Brown started the effort with his friend, Connor Smith, two years ago, when both were students at the College of Charleston. When Smith left town, Brown kept it up.

A member of East Cooper Baptist Church, he's training to be a manager at a Mount Pleasant Chick-fil-A. On Aug. 6, he married Sarah Moye, a former basketball player at the College of Charleston who now works as a patient-care technician at the Medical University.

The couple, assisted by others from various churches and organizations, never have missed a Tuesday hot dog distribution day -- except the one following their wedding.

So last week, as usual, Leland Brown unpacked the tabletop grill, hooked up the propane tank and laid out the stacks of white bread. Nathan Mansell and his wife, Hillary, friends of the Browns, are running late, but on the way. Nathan's sisters, Maddie, 16, and Haddie, 10, visiting with their father, Mark Mansell from Beaufort, take charge of the ketchup and mustard. Sarah arms herself with the relish.

The hot dog ministry costs about $100 a week, Sarah Brown says. Some of the money is donated by churches and individuals; the rest comes from the Browns' pocket.

The Rev. Joseph Bolick, associate pastor of St. Matthew's Lutheran Church, heard about the ministry several weeks ago.

"I just asked if it would be OK with y'all if I said a word," Bolick says.

As the hot dogs on the grill start to char,

Bolick invokes Jesus. Heads bow among the small crowd clustering under a blue tent.

"Sometimes the heart gets tired because we've been through too much," Bolick says. "Jesus promises to give you rest."

And then it's Leland Brown's turn. He says a prayer over the food.

"We pray that you will be honored and glorified here."

And then they eat. And talk. And laugh. Some go off to sit in the shade.

The hot dog ministry is something of a spontaneous phenomenon. There is no nonprofit organization in charge, no formal staff, no agency input, no designated budget. These are simply young people from St. Andrew's Church-Mount Pleasant, St. Matthew's, East Cooper Baptist, Medical University, College of Charleston, friends of friends, who appear each Tuesday to feed the poor.

"It's an interesting group," Sarah Brown says. "The only thing we really have in common is Jesus."

Soon, members of the college's basketball team will come to help, probably in groups of three or four at a time, she says.

Some who are fed are grateful. Some are silent. Many are regulars.

"There are 15 to 20 guys I know by name, that I see on an almost weekly basis," Leland Brown says.

So Bolick preaches: "Come to me all of you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens," he says.

Reach Adam Parker at 937-5902 or on Facebook.