Cooking lunch each weekday for some 375 people and delivering those meals is a formidable job. Dedicated drivers like Ron Walster help make it possible. About 9:00 every weekday morning, he leaves his comfortable home in Bartonville for the 15-minute drive to Neighborhood House in Peoria. He’s been doing this since January of 2005, shortly after retiring from Federal Warehouse. He was looking for something to fill his day. His day and his heart have been overflowing since.
Neighborhood House is located at 1020 S. Matthew Street. The not for profit agency has delivered over a million meals since the program’s inception in 1971. Meals on Wheels is possible through funding from Heart of Illinois United Way, Central Illinois Agency on Aging, state and federal grants, private pay participants, and the generosity of private and participant donors. The program provides nutritious meals for folks unable to provide their own because of poor health, inability to shop or prepare food, and other difficulties. The program is much more than a hot lunch meal. It’s about care and concern that extend beyond noontime. For some meal recipients, their driver may be the only person they see that day and many other days. Even though the driver’s visit is brief, it provides comfort. That’s where Ron excels.
This past February underscored delivery challenges and drivers’ dedication. I joined Ron for a portion of his route with a wind and chill advisory in effect. Snow and ice compounded the weather challenge. His route has 51 stops. Both streets and sidewalks were slippery making food and milk delivery even more difficult.
Our first stop involved carefully pulling into a backyard makeshift “driveway” covered with ice and surrounded by trees. The walkway was treacherous. Not a job for a novice. “Even the watchdog doesn’t bother me,” says Ron. “He’s so used to me.” Dogs can often be an added peril to any delivery job, but for Ron, their barking is more greeting than warning.
He drives a 1994 Dodge van. “My wife and kids tell me to get a different one, but why do I want to do that? It runs fine. Very dependable.” The interior sports duct tape and the door creaks upon opening and closing, but such minor details don’t deter Ron.
He cheerfully greets every person answering the door, calling them by name and inquiring about their well-being. People are genuinely happy to see him. Even the neighbors greet him warmly. While he waits for one woman to answer, he sweeps snow off her front steps. He knows details of people’s lives including their struggles, and when he can help, he does. From opening the drapes for one woman, bringing in mail for another, inquiring about family, taking letters to mail or bringing in the morning paper, he does his best to brighten their lives. He knows who needs an extra bit of attention, who’s having added health problems, and who has an appointment on a given day. He talks about the importance of family support, explaining there are folks on his route who have little.
Ron is generous and softhearted and even when he senses some people might improve their circumstances with some serious effort, he never judges. He offers encouragement and optimism. “I get more out of this than they do,” he says humbly and gratefully. Delivering meals is not a lucrative job. “Nobody does this for the money,” he says cheerfully.
At 71, Ron is older than some of his meal recipients. He’s grateful for his health and mobility. He and his wife, Carol, are the parents of 8, one son is deceased, and the grandparents of 17. Retirement isn’t ruled out, but it’s not a priority yet. Ron still has meals to deliver and people to help. His life is blessed with a sense of mission for the people in it and the work he does.