ROLAND BRAMMEIER

Roland Brammeier, upon taking the helm of Tucson Metropolitan Ministries in 1975, reportedly said: “Three hymns and a prayer on Sunday morning is not the answer for churches.”

For the next decade, he showed Tucson what the answer should be.

Brammeier had attended Nebraska Wesleyan University and Iliff School of Theology in Denver and served churches in California and Arizona before coming to Tucson in 1971 as associate pastor to Catalina United Methodist Church.

He also had served on, created or led dozens of community programs: Highway Chaplain on Route 66 in Needles, Calif.; programs on mental health, Head Start, PTAs, adult education, Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, 4-H, Meals on Wheels, Board of Trustees for the ASU Student Union, the VISTA advisory board and many more.

His infectious joy and sense of humor – particularly laughing at himself – surely strengthened his ability to serve.

During his early years in ministry, he recalled walking through church one afternoon and looking in the John Wesley Lounge, where he found a nude couple making love.

He stammered, “Uh . . . uh, are you members here?” In unison, they replied, “No.” When sharing this story, he rhetorically asked, “Why did I ask them that?”

As Rev. Brammeier transitioned from pastor at Catalina UMC to becoming the first director of TMM, he worked with the YWCA (emblematic of his faith in action), at which time he is quoted as saying, “Ministers can speak the word all the time – but if they’re not acting the word, they’re in trouble.”

And act he did.

As he would say, TMM was a shared dream that came about by a wonderful team of volunteers and staff. It was “one of the WOWS in my life.”

Its task as the arm of the United Methodist Church was to be involved in everything that has anything to do with people in need, regardless of religious affiliation – or lack of it.

The multitude of services growing from his visionary leadership include four children’s day care centers, Community Food Bank, Community Organization for Personal Enrichment (COPE, begun as a place mental health outpatients meet and receive help with day-to-day problems), Senior Community Center, Urban Tours for awareness of needs, Indian Relief Center, Emergency Relief (cash assistance to families in need, which evolved into Traveler’s Aid , now part of the Primavera Foundation), Border Ministries, Miracle Square (independent living for senior and disabled adult with supportive services), Share Home Project (home sharing for seniors), Brewster Center for Women, now within Emerge Center.

Beyond direct leadership, Roland and TMM were interactive with more than 100 Tucson social service agencies. The list of his involvement in the community reads like a director of human services, but Roland would be the first to say he did not do these things; it was with the Tucson community these services and programs came into being.

Roland also took delight in helping the new arrivals, as when we arrived in Tucson in August 1977, in a Volkswagen bus with three kids, two dogs, no jobs nor home, and little cash in our pockets! He was our savior!

His walls were covered with awards and recognitions: Alumni Achievement Award from Nebraska Wesleyan, Outstanding Citizen of the Community by the National Association of Social Workers, Man of the Year by the Tucson Advertising Club, Bishop’s Award for Leadership, Iliff School of Theology Alumnus of the Year, Jefferson Award (a national recognition honoring community and public service), and many, many more.

Displayed among all those awards and certificates was a plaque with pictorial barbed-wire fence and the words, “He who straddles the fence usually has a sore crotch.”

That Nebraskan farm boy never, ever straddled fences.

Leaving Tucson in 1985, Roland accepted the position of district superintendent (essentially, a pastor to pastors) for the United Methodist Church in the Los Angeles area.

After four years, he returned to his native Nebraska. Ten years ago, he returned to Arizona to serve as pastor to the Lake View United Methodist Church in Sun City.

At the time of his death on March 29, 2009, he was continuing his activism working with United Methodist Outreach Ministries in downtown Phoenix.

After 10 years working in Mexico, Punch directed Tucson’s Community Food Bank for 25 years, retiring in 2003. He now volunteers with nonprofits and enjoys country life with wife Casey. E-mail: punchwoods@q.com

Punch Woods

A call from Pima County Jail in Spanish leaves columnist regretful and wondering

A cry for help: Pondering who was on the other end of the line of a telephone call from the Pima County Jail.

Casey and I were settling in for the night when the phone rang. It was not all that late, but we had decided to retire early.

I asked, “Shall we answer it?”

“You get it,” she said.

Fumbling in the dark, hello?

Ésta es una llamada de la carcel de Pima County – a recording in Spanish, but I wasn’t listening in Spanish. I thought I understood enough to know it was someone calling from the county jail.

Si esta llamada está equivocado, llame al numero . . .

My Spanish was good enough to understand that yes, indeed, this was a call in error. I chose to hang up.

“Who was that?” Casey asked.

Some call from the county jail.

“Was it a reverse the charges?”

I don’t know, I guess so.

In the silent darkness I wondered who and what this was about. Who do we know who is a monolingual Spanish speaker who might be in jail?

The phone rang again. Fumbling for the light switch and phone. Ésta es una llamada de la carcel . . . I was now prepared to listen in Spanish.

After various instructions and number pressing, the final request was that if I wished to accept this call, press 7. I did.

Bueno. ¿Que número quieres? I asked.

He replied, not answering my question but asking, ¿Quien habla?

No voy a decir. ¿Con quien quieres hablar? (I’m not going to say. Whom do you want to talk with?)

Jorge Perez, he replied.

No hay nadie aqui con este nombre. ¿Que número quieres? (There’s no one here with that name. What number do you want?)

Está equivocada. (It’s a mistake.) And he hung up.

“Why didn’t you speak English?” Casey asked. “He would have understood he had the wrong number.”

I don’t know; I didn’t think of that.

I turned off the light but was wide awake. Who’s in jail? Does he get another call? Or was that it? Will they let him make another call?

Could I have been more helpful? A call from jail is pretty desperate. Could I have asked him more questions? Could I have asked him if I could call Jorge for him? Why didn’t I just say, How can I help you?

I thought of Michel Quoist’s poem The Telephone.

I have just hung up; why did he telephone? I don’t know . . . O! I get it . . . I talked a lot and listened little.

Forgive me, Lord, it was a monologue and not a dialogue. I explained my idea and did not get his; Since I didn’t listen, I learned nothing. Since I didn’t listen, I didn’t help. Since I didn’t listen, we didn’t communicate.

Forgive me, Lord, for we were connected, and now we are cut off.”

I felt so regretful that I hadn’t responded, didn’t reply with help, and now there’s nothing I can do, even if it was a mistaken call.

Perhaps in the mysterious divine order of things, it was not a mistake, only my mistake.

I didn’t sleep for a while.

After 10 years working in Mexico, Punch Woods directed Tucson’s Community Food Bank for 25 years, retiring in 2003. He now volunteers with nonprofits and enjoys country life with wife Casey. E-mail: punchwoods@q.com

PUNCH WOODS

A saguaro blooms in Tucson Mountain Park in April 2008.

One Sunday morning a few years back, my wife, Casey, and I saddled up and went for a ride. Like most Tucson mornings, it was a beautiful day to ride.

We went out Bopp Road, a little- known, unimproved section best suited for horses and ATVs at the base of Cat Back Mountain.

As we headed east into Tucson Mountain Park, we noticed a car parked where one is usually not and three hikers headed up Cat Back.

I was riding Josh, a big old Appaloosa gelding who stood maybe 17 hands. He had a wonderful gait that I could sit for hours.

Casey was on Silky, a beautiful Arab. Silky has a haughty little prance and holds her tail high, but is she ever beautiful. Yeah, I think both of them are beautiful.

Tucson Mountain Park is one of our wonderful places regardless of the season. And yes, Virginia, we do have seasons. Our seasons are more subtle, not a Vermont kind of change.

We take a little-known trail, wind in and over a low pass into a small valley filled with saguaro, prickly pear, paloverde and more. The rock outcroppings are beautiful, too.

We discover wildlife now and again. Along with rabbits, doves and cactus wrens, we see an occasional coyote, javelina, a few deer and, less often, thank God, a rattler.

As often as not, Josh and Silky are the first to notice these critters.

They sometimes stop and look, but occasionally they spook. We then find ourselves doing a little balancing act as we calm them while looking for what they may have heard, smelled or seen.

We continue on crossing Mocking Bird Lane and up the San Juan Wash. We ride into the valley behind Cat Back, where on occasion we meet hikers, mountain bike riders and equestrians.

Continuing to enjoy the beauty of the desert, we turn around and head home.

Returning to Bopp Road, we see that the hikers are coming down the mountain and one of the trio is resting against their car.

As I ride by, I say hello and so does Casey. But she, being more gregarious, asks, “Did you make it to the top?”

“Oh, yeah, we made it,” he replies. “My uncle brought us out here. “He used to be stationed at Davis-Monthan.”

“Where you from?”

“Ohio.”

Pointing to me, she says, “He’s from Ohio, too. Where’s your home in Ohio?”

“In Lexington, near Mansfield,” he replies.

Again pointing to me, Casey says, “He’s from Lucas,” a neighboring village.

This young man takes a double look at me and asks, “What class were you in?”

“I didn’t graduate from Lucas, but I was in the class of ’56.”

“My mom was in that class,” he replies.

“Who was she?” I ask.

“Joy McGugin,” he replied.

“No!” I said in disbelief. “She was the first girl I ever kissed!”

We invited them to the house for a beer and talked for more than an hour.

How small is this world, anyway?

After 10 years working in Mexico, Punch Woods directed Tucson’s Community Food Bank for 25 years, retiring in 2003. He now volunteers with nonprofits and enjoys country life with his wife, Casey. E-mail: punchwoods@q.com

We have the resources to end childhood hunger

A boy heads for a lunch table at a Tucson Unified School District school in August 2004. If all school meals could be provided free, no child would have to go hungry in the U.S., and every child's ability to learn would be greatly enhanced.

After more than 50 years battling hunger and poverty, only recently has it dawned on me that while we know how to love and care for all the children of our country, we don’t know that we know how.

Let me explain.

Our caring and loving starts when a child is born. Nothing is more beautiful than a nursing infant held in her mother’s arms.

But not all are born into bountiful loving arms.

We can fill this void with national food and nutrition programs that have been around for years. We seem to have forgotten or maybe never knew that these programs feed our children.

Is not a hungry child an abused child? Are we not all culpable, knowing we can prevent their hunger, their abuse?

Upon entering World War II, we discovered that many of our young men had grown up hungry and suffered such malnutrition that they were incapable of serving in the military.

We learned that food is a national security issue. This prompted food distribution that evolved into food stamps (now called SNAP – the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program), WIC, HeadStart, School Meal programs and others.

With a few modifications, these four programs would eliminate childhood hunger in America.

• SNAPs: More than 70 percent of groceries purchased with food stamps (SNAPs) feeds children. Sadly, 50 percent of Arizona’s eligible are not enrolled.

Eligibility is based on income, and the SNAP application process must be simplified to be no more difficult than filing a one-page 1040EZ income tax return.

If the IRS can accept this, then the Arizona Department of Economic Security needs to do likewise. Enrollment should be streamlined to “invite in” rather than “screen out.” We want all children to be well fed.

• WIC: The Special Supplemental Food Program for Women, Infants and Children is our best children’s food program.!

It provides vouchers for specific foods for pre- and post-natal women while promoting breastfeeding and food for children newborn to age 5.

Eligibility is based on income and health or nutritional risk.

Tragically, Congress has never fully funded WIC, and many eligible children are left out, left hungry.

WIC, like food stamps, needs to be based solely on income and fully funded so no child is waiting to get enough to eat.

• Head Start: The program was created in the 1960s to help low-income preschool children become ready for school.

It provides developmental services that are family focused, including education, health, nutrition and mental health.

While nutrition is only part of the program, it is understood that food is key to learning. There is a direct correlation between nutrition and cognition. Without enough food, learning is limited at best.

Opening enrollment to all children, not just the poor, would not only reduce hunger but also better prepare all our children for success in learning.

• School meals: Many children count on these meals because there is so little food at home. Depending on household income, children pay full costs, reduced cost or no cost.

I suggest that, just as education is free and universal to all children, school meals need to be provided at no cost to all children. Nutrition is key to the ability to learn.

Not only is this right for compassionate reasons, but it also is a good investment in our children for their greater success in learning, so they can be more productive and contribute more to America.

In an open letter to President Obama in the New York Times, Michael Pollan suggests: “Changing the food culture must begin with our children, and it must begin in the schools . . . by making lunch, in all its dimensions, a mandatory part of the curriculum.

“On the premise that eating well is a critically important life skill, we need to teach all primary school students the basics of growing and cooking food and then enjoying it at shared meals. . . .

“And we should immediately increase school-lunch spending per pupil by $1 a day – the minimum amount food-service experts believe it will take to underwrite a shift from fast food in the cafeteria to real food freshly prepared,” noted Pollan, author of ” In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto.”

For all of us, and particularly children, food demands our attention.

We need to start with a definition of “food.” In his letter, Pollan offers an approach, “That in order to be regarded as a food by the government, an edible substance must contain a certain minimum ration of micronutrients per calorie of energy. Such a definition would improve the quality of school meals . . .” And all food assistance programs, I might add.

To be precise, we can end childhood hunger by:

1. Defining food.

2. Simplifying the application process for food stamps.

3. Fully funding WIC for all children in low-income families.

4. Expanding Head Start to be free and universal for all children.

5. Likewise, by providing school meals at no cost to all children.

We do love and care about our children, and we can be sure they all have enough good, nutritious food.

We must call on our government to do what we cannot do individually – because charity alone cannot end childhood hunger.

We must insist that our members of Congress, our senators and our president make these changes.

Punch Woods ran the Community Food Bank in Tucson for 25 years.

Three-year-olds Alejandra Perez (left) Lilliana Armenta and Andres Villafane eat smiley-face pizza and oranges at Tucson Nursery School, 2385 S. Plumer Ave. The Chefs Association of Southern Arizona volunteered to prepare the luncheon in honor of World Food Day, an anti-hunger event observed every Oct. 16 in 150 nations.

Punch Woods