At 6-foot-1, Harold Fleming cuts an imposing figure. He’s got a deep voice and an infectious laugh, but originally it was his size that got him the job at St. Mark’s Food Cupboard. That was 24 years ago.

Born and raised in Philly, Harold does double-duty as St. Mark’s sexton. The church food pantry helps up to 300 people a month, a number that’s gone up over the past couple of years. “When I started here in 1986, I was the bouncer,” he says. “I kept everybody in line.”

As we talk, people come in and out of the room, taking a number, showing their ID so they can pick up their allotted bags of food. Some live across the street from the church; others live as far as Gray’s Ferry and beyond. They get here by car, public transportation or on foot. “Some people have been coming here a long time,” he says. “They started coming here in their 40s and now, they’re well into their 60s.”

Hunger doesn’t discriminate. One of the youngest clients today is 22. He’s in between things, staying with a friend, trying to get himself back on track. Several regulars  are in their 80s. St. Mark’s food pantry services people in eight zip codes that stretch through Center City, South and Southwest Philadelphia, from river to river. Anyone who makes less than $1,354 a month can get a bag of groceries here.

Every Wednesday, a group of special-needs teens comes from Kensington High School to unload the truck and bag food. They now know many of the people who come here. “It helps them and it helps us,” Harold says. “It gives these young people some skills and teaches them the value of helping others.”

But two bags of groceries over a month’s time won’t stretch all that far. How do families in need make it? "Sometimes people call me and tell me, ‘We don’t have anything to eat and the kids are hungry,'” says Harold, who gives out his cell phone number to his regular clients. “I figure out how to get them some food. I jump in my car if that’s what it takes and drive down here to help them out.” He may still keep folks in line at the food pantry, but Harold’s heart is a lot bigger than his bounce.  

—Story by Carole Luke