Sunday, April 26, 1998

Fixing cars, for God's sake

By PEG MEIER / Minneapolis-St. Paul Star Tribune

MINNEAPOLIS -- The worst of timing, the best of timing ...

Christa Sullivan and her little boy were on their way to have her car repaired early on a Saturday morning when it started coughing metal hunks and died on the side of the freeway. A gentleman driving by gave them a lift to the garage where they'd been headed. Tearfully, Sullivan fretted that maybe the engine was fried. She was right. Mechanics confirmed that her '90 Oldsmobile Cutlass with 136,000 miles was not worth fixing.

But these were no usual mechanics.

They were volunteers, most of them Christians of various denominations, who gather at Lake Elmo Repair every second Saturday of the month to fix cars for people who can't afford repairs. Everything is free, including car parts and lunch.

In exchange, they ask the people -- most of them single moms such as Sullivan -- to attend a class in how to budget their money, no matter how meagre, and to listen to some words on how Jesus can change their lives.

It fell to Beverly LeTourneau, one of the mainstays of the Car Care Ministry, to tell Sullivan that the men decided her car was doomed. But LeTourneau also got to deliver the good news: The project had fixed up some donated cars, and Sullivan could have one, free, if she wanted it. Did she want it! She was so relieved that her tears flowed again, and she let LeTourneau comfort her with a hug and a prayer of praise.

Sullivan also was asked to follow the program's budgeting principles for a year and to attend six more budgeting classes.

As the volunteers have learned is true for many women on the edge of poverty, when Sullivan's car didn't run well, her life didn't run well. She and Sean, her 5-year-old son, live in Woodbury and attend various Christian churches. When the Olds' timing chain wore out, she missed five days of work as a senior secretary in downtown St. Paul. She couldn't arrange a ride, and taking the bus entailed a two-mile walk. Earning about $23,000 a year, she doesn't qualify for assistance programs, nor would she want them, she said.

But Sullivan did qualify for help from the St. Croix Valley Christians in Action, which runs the car-care project. She drove away in a '90 Ford Escort that runs well despite its 97,000 miles. Usually clients aren't given free cars until they can demonstrate financial commitment and a willingness to better their condition. That generally takes a few counseling sessions. "But she was working, and we wanted to keep it that way," said one of the guys in the shop.

Jim Friedrich, owner of the shop and an innovator of the Car Care Ministry, used to think people were pretty much like him -- "stable and OK," brought up in loving homes, taught good values, trusting in God, knowledgeable about what money can and can't do, not prone to spending what they didn't have.

Life was going well for him, and he searched for a means to pass along some of his gifts. At a Christian workshop, he was presented the idea of gathering volunteers to fix cars for "people in need," as he calls them, so that they could get to work. In March 1993 he started the program.

Along the way, he learned some lessons. One was how many people are hurting badly, he said, and you can't tell by looking if the person next to you in the checkout line at the supermarket is doing OK or not. Even in Washington County, one of Minnesota's wealthiest, there are many people in desperate circumstances. "I didn't know people like that existed," Friedrich said. "I was totally oblivious."

Another thing he soon realized was that it was naive to work on a car, to get a sincere thank-you from the owner and think that you have solved the problem. Clients are likely to get into another bad situation.

To single moms, he realized, it makes sense to neglect a car if it still moves, particularly when the family needs groceries or the rent needs paying. However, when a $50 to $100 car repair is delayed, he knows, it can result in a vehicle breakdown, a towing fee, missed days at work and hundreds of dollars of charges on the Visa bill, at high interest rates.

And that's not all, Friedrich said. "It steals their peace."

So the program broadened. He explained, "We got into fixing people, not cars. We learned you can give a person a car or fix a car, but unless you fix some habits they'll be back in the same place when the car breaks down the next time."

As cars are being inspected and repaired on Saturday mornings, the clients are asked to sit through an hour class, very basic, in handling money. Most participants protest that they have too little money to try to budget and not a dime to spare. But let's look at your expenses, they're told.

Do you really need this call-waiting feature on your phone bill? It's almost $5 a month. That's $60 a year, equivalent to many working hours for someone earning the minimum wage. And cable TV is a whopping $30 a month or more; some single moms spend $1,000 a year on cable. Could you do without? What about this expensive cereal you're buying the kids? Maybe you could stick to brands that cost less than a dime an ounce. Sharpen the kids' math skills by having them figure out unit costs of cereals. Now about fast food; is the expense worth it?

Almost every household can be taught to shave $100 a month off expenses, the budgeting instructors maintain.

Clients also are asked to examine how they're spending their time. Friedrich said, "We emphasize that no matter where you are in life, you have excesses that you can share with the community. If not money, maybe babysitting. Maybe you have a good listening ear. You can do something."

One Saturday morning in March, more than 35 volunteers were on the job.

Twenty-some men had their heads under the hoods. Only two are professional mechanics; the rest have varying amounts of knowledge and learn from each other. (Some women whose cars have been repaired send their sons to learn car skills and to get a chance to hang out with responsible men.) Among the volunteers, Neal Powell of Roseville said he was there "to pass on God's love." With him were his sons, Mike, 24, and Robby, 15. Robby told of "the sense of joy you feel when you see people leave with their cars fixed."

Then there were the women who call themselves the Dust Angels; Sue Dick and her team scrub and vacuum the interiors so the cars look as good as they run.

And the Food Ladies, who fed volunteers and recipients a breakfast of coffee, juice, rolls and bananas and later a lunch featuring a hot turkey dish. They're led by Dora Lee, who was on Social Security Disability when the volunteers repaired her car years ago. "Don't you have somebody to serve you coffee and sweets?" she asked the men. They didn't. So she has done it ever since.

And the Food Distribution People, who bring in a vanload of food (mostly cereal and fresh fruits and vegetables) donated by grocery stores and distributors and hand it out on Car-Care Saturdays at Christ Lutheran Church, on the same block as Lake Elmo Repair.

And the Clothing Give-Away People, who sort and give out used clothing in the church basement.

And the financial planners, including Wyeth Lewis. Weekdays he's a bank accountant who works with some of the state's wealthiest people. The second Saturday of the month he helps impoverished women squeeze dimes.

Janet Robert, an attorney, has been the volunteer greeter at the shop's front desk for five years. She efficiently and kindly handles the six to eight people getting car help and writes work orders. She has an idea for expansion: It's to connect people who have surplus furniture with people who need it. "It's going to happen sometime," she said. "God provides."

Funding for Car Care Ministry comes from a variety of sources: Some people donate old cars. Some give car parts. A Hastings man who has his car serviced at Lake Elmo Repair usually writes a separate check for $20 to support the project. People whom Friedrich knows send checks; some checks have names he doesn't recognize. A few churches take collections regularly. The Lucky Aces 4-H Club puts together safety kits -- with flashlights, candles, raisins, matches, etc. -- and puts one in each client's trunk.

The Lord works in mysterious ways, Friedrich said, grinning at a memory. Members of a motorcycle club showed up at the garage one day and said they wanted to donate a truck-load of cereal. "Great, back it right into the shop," Friedrich said, thinking they meant a pick-up. "Honey," a woman in leather and chains told him, "I've got a Kenworth." The semitrailer truck wasn't chock full of cereal boxes, but there was a huge supply.

Christa Sullivan happened to seek help on the fifth anniversary of the Car Care Ministry. It had already repaired 833 vehicles, with a total value of work done (parts and volunteered labor) expected to hit $200,000 in another month.

Some of the current volunteers are people whose cars once were fixed for free. "Katie" is an example. (She's in the midst of what she calls "a yucky divorce" and doesn't want her name published.) She had been without a car for a year and was able to get to her $15,000-a-year job by bus or with friends, but, "I've got two teenage boys, and it's not too convenient to take a city bus with amplifiers and guitars and drum sets."

Two days before Christmas, the volunteers gave her a car. She was flabbergasted. "They truly exemplify Christ's love," she said. "They are love." Now she's devoting the second Saturday morning of the month to helping out.

Sometimes clients look bored or make it obvious they're sitting through the lectures on money and God only because they need car repairs. Rarely, someone is openly hostile. That happened this Saturday. A woman who had fallen on hard times told off the lecturers, said she didn't need speeches on religion and proclaimed, "God won't fix my brakes." But the Christian leaders were calm and repaired her car, even though she wouldn't stay for the talks. Friedrich said, "We don't know what's going on in her life. I don't want to be another problem for her."

Other clients offer heartfelt thanks. Carrie Schneider, 27, reached by telephone, said her car hadn't needed much work -- "only $100 or so, not that bad, but we didn't have it." She, her husband and two children got into financial difficulty when he was unable to work. Car Care offered to fix her car. She said, "I was afraid they'd get down on me about budgeting or about going to church, but they were very mellow. It wasn't anything to be afraid of." She plans to volunteer: "They cleaned my car; I can clean someone else's."

Susan Hadler, 49, had "no money in the bank and no good job" when her engine blew. Better than the car she was given, she said, were the instructions she received in handling money. For a year, she's writing down every penny she spends, and, "I might do this for the rest of my life because I've figured out how much good it does."

Hadler's financial mentor insisted she quit getting temporary jobs for about $6 an hour and find a full-time, permanent job with benefits. She got one for $9.50 an hour. It's a bonanza of money to her, "but I know if you don't handle your money right, it doesn't matter what you make. A lot of people are hooked on credit cards and gambling. I want to do it God's way now."

(Distributed by Scripps Howard News Service.)