KANSAS CITY, Mo. — My hope as you read this is that you're doing so in a warm, comfortable and safe space.
But we all know that space doesn’t exist for every Kansas Citian.
To be clear, this story isn't a guilt-trip story, but it might be a do-something story, just like it was for a Kansas City reverend.
VOICE FOR EVERYONE | Share your voice with KSHB 41’s Taylor Hemness
On a cold night in 2020, Rev. Randy Fikki was preparing to leave his church, Unity Southeast, at the corner of Bales and Meyer near the Kansas City Zoo & Aquarium.
He stopped because he thought the church’s maintenance man hadn’t done his job.
"I saw a bunch of trash in the parking lot," Fikki told me. "I just thought it was a pile of garbage. And, oh my God, it wasn't.”
Fikki discovered a man and his wife huddled together near the church’s air conditioning unit, using strips of cardboard to shield themselves from the cold.
“And I realized that I could not leave them there," he said. "What I said to that couple was, ‘Hey, I'm leaving. I'm going to leave you in the church. The doors are all locked.'"
He told me the couple was surprised that he’d leave them in his church and asked him why he wasn’t worried that they’d steal something.
To that, he told them he was more worried they’d die if he left them outside.
Word spread.
"The next night, we had nine people,” Fikki recounted. “The next night, we had 21. The fourth one, we had 47 people."
That was four years ago. Here we are, as in not-so-olden days, and Unity Southeast’s warming shelter is still at it.
The church provides a hot meal, place to lay your head and some breakfast the next morning.
"Every night, these burners are going,” Fikki told me as we stood in the shelter’s tiny kitchen. “Last night, we had chili, cornbread and cupcakes."
All he asks in return?
"We don't need to know their story,” Fikki said. “Two requirements — are you a danger to yourself? Or are you a danger to others?"
Any items people are carrying, including weapons, are collected, stored and returned the next morning.
"Now are there some days that I see things going into bags that I think, ‘Yikes?’ Yes, there are," Fikki said. "I know that's what's going to keep them coming back. Because they know when they walk through this door, everything they needed to keep themself safe will be given back to them in the morning."
Luis first came to Unity Southeast a year ago and brought someone along because he'd heard it was safe.
After his wife died, he sank into an alcohol-fueled despair, even trying to take his own life. Today, he works at the shelter, sorting donations by day and helping in the shelter every night.
I asked Luis if he ever recognizes himself in some of the people who come to spend the night.
“Oh yeah, yeah,” he told me. "Now, I treat you like they treat me here. Like a human. With respect. They listen."
I asked Fikki if he thinks there could be another 25 Luises cold in Kansas City each night.
He quickly, tearfully corrected me.
"If there's two more Luises tonight, if there are three more or four more Luises tonight, aren't they worth it?" Fikki said. “When you can see it that way, and you can treat them that way, that's how we solve houselessness and homelessness."
The shelter at Unity Southeast is open every night until March 1, no matter the temperature.
You can click here to visit Unity Southeast's website, which includes a link to the shelter's Amazon wishlist if you'd like to help buy the supplies it needs.
—