Buzz Trexler

It was 20 years ago this week that I came to The Daily Times: Dec. 19, 1989.

I believe it was on Dec. 20 that I met Paul Bales, who came into my office with what looked like a homemade pad of newsprint with numbers on it, asking, “How many columns do you need?”

Having worked at a metro newspaper where someone else made those decisions, I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about, and he knew it.

Paul, who is retiring from The Daily Times at the end of this year, was likely thinking, “This boy’s still wet behind the ears.” Still, he was kind enough not to say it to my face.

I learned a lot about Paul over the years, but nothing more important than his willingness to serve. On Thursday night, I was privileged to get a glimpse of the fruits of five decades of service to Blount County’s needy through his work with The Daily Times’ Empty Pantry Fund — and I was filled with awe and wonder.

For two decades, this editor has viewed the chronicles of that annual — let’s call it what it is — mission and ministry to, and by, this community. This year, I was determined to join other Alcoa Kiwanians at the Junior Service League’s packing of toys this past Monday and the packing of food on Thursday night for the Empty Pantry Fund. However, I got tied up at the office on Monday and could not be a part of the toy packing. Still, I was determined to make the Empty Pantry Fund event.

On Thursday, I ran across Paul in the composing room.

“I’m going to be there tonight,” I said.

“You are?” he said with big smile. “I sure am glad.”

He then went on to give me some volunteer advice.

“Now, you need to get there around 6:15 or 6:30, or you might not have a place to stand,” he warned. “Plus, you might not have a place to park if you wait until 7.”

I decided to take him at his word but, as newsroom events often dictate, I found myself leaving The Daily Times at about 6:45 p.m. As I approached the National Guard Armory on U.S. 321, there were cars turning in the same direction … and cars lining the entrance to the armory … and cars parked in the field.

“Oh, my gosh,” I thought. “This is serious. I’m not going to have a place to park.”

I slowly made my way through the traffic and turned around, thinking, “I don’t think they need my help.”

Driving back toward the highway, the thought came to me: “It’s been a long day. They don’t need my help. Just go on home.”

I passed volunteer after volunteer, young and old, walking in the dark toward the armory. The most impressive, fairly emotional, sight: A man on crutches who had lost a leg to some misfortune.

It was apparent: “There’s something special going on in this place. I’ve got to experience this thing.”

I spied First Tennessee’s nearly empty parking lot across the highway and sped across, parking under a street light.

“Great,” I thought as I checked the traffic before sprinting across U.S. 321. “I can see the headline now: ‘Foolish editor tries to cross parkway in dark.’” Not only did I have to face highway traffic, but the slightly winding road offered its own challenge.

Finally entering the armory, I was met with people lining up to serve.

What an incredible sight to see in what we sometimes believe is an age of selfishness: Here, in Blount County, people line up to serve. Of course, it was, as one volunteer analyzed, “Organized chaos.”

Volunteers pushing baskets along a route where others dropped in hams, yams, green beans, sweet peas and 43 other ingredients into huge, white sacks. There were Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, Cub Scouts, parents, grandparents and probably not a few great-grandparents working together.

For two hours, I found places here and there to serve. It was obvious I wasn’t needed, nor had my presence been missed for nearly two decades. Still, having experienced a fraction of what Paul Bales and tens of thousands of other volunteers have for more than five decades, I found myself in envy: Here were those who came year, after year, after year, to serve the least of these; in fact, from what I have gleaned, some of those serving had, in fact, been served themselves by the Empty Pantry Fund.

All of Blount County, it seemed, was on hand Thursday night to fill 1,424 baskets with 63 tons of food. By the time the servants gathered again and drove 70 routes, about 1,500 people will have been involved.

Chatting with Paul and some of his “partners in crime” when leaving, one servant put it this way: “I don’t think there’s another thing like it in the nation,” he said, with a touch of pride. “This is Blount County.”

A place where people line up to serve.

Bruce Watt presents Bill Proffitt with the George F. Hixson Fellowship award at Alcoa Kiwanis.

Several years ago, Alcoa Kiwanians were gracious enough to let me into their fellowship to break bread and serve, but the invitation came during a time when I was also moving into ministry, and it made it difficult to serve. So, I had to bow out after about a year or so.

Recently, they extended an act of grace by letting me return — just in time for the civic club’s 55th anniversary.

On Monday, as they were celebrating 55 years of service, I watched and listened as charter members told stories of how the club came into being and how much they enjoyed serving their community. It reminded me of why nearly 20 years ago I felt drawn to join this community as managing editor of The Daily Times.

Vera Watson, who led the effort to recap the club’s 55-year history, told the group, “We’ve had a number of firsts: first in community, first in service, and I don’t know how much money we have given to the community.” Watson chided T.O. Hester, who joined the club in 1956, for being at the international convention in 1961 when delegates discussed allowing women to join, but voted the measure down. Women were allowed to join in 1987 and Watson, who joined Alcoa Kiwanis in 1989, noted she was the sixth female member at the time.

Bart Peak, who was a charter member in 1954, told the group, “I was recruited by two of my friends who I worked with at ALCOA,” recalling that of the 29 charter members, 18 of them were from the Aluminum Company of America. Peak explained that club rules prohibited more than two members from a single occupation, apparently seeking a diverse group. “So, we had to come up with creative occupations,” given the great number of metallurgists and engineers working at the plant.

Peak said that in the early days the lunchtime club met at Spike’s Restaurant, which was located at the current site of Shoney’s on Alcoa Highway at Wright Road. He recalled that another civic club decided that it, too, wanted to meet at Spike’s on the same day and time. The restaurant manager sought to accommodate both groups by putting up a partition. Peak recalled that the noise level from the other club was so high that Kiwanians couldn’t hear the speaker. Not long afterward, the Kiwanis program was a demonstration of what was then new audio technology known as stereophonic sound. The recording: A train roaring along the railroad tracks. The other club moved.

Ken Paxton, also a charter member, recalled that the birth of Alcoa Kiwanis was somewhat seeded by the Maryville club. “Maryville Kiwanis thought it was important to get people from ALCOA involved in Kiwanis,” Paxton recalled. “I don’t know of anything I would have rather been involved in, in terms of civic clubs.”

Some of the civic service actions recalled by Hestor included doing janitorial work at the Ronald McDonald House in Knoxville and recycling aluminum, the latter of which was alternated with Maryville Kiwanis.

And then there are the pancakes.

“I have thoroughly enjoyed the pancake breakfast through all the years,” Hester said.

Alcoa Kiwanis is known for its annual pancake breakfast where hundreds are served in a fairly systematic fashion, to say the least. Paxton recalled the early days of cooking for the community.

“Our first pancake system was at Alcoa First Methodist,” he said. “We cooked the pancakes on a stove in their kitchen, which had four burners.” At some point, Alcoa ingenuity apparently kicked in and an aluminum plate was fashioned to fit over the four burners and served as a full griddle.

Pancakes haven’t been the only fundraising ventures, Paxton said. The club has held video auctions, sold fire extinguishers and even brooms. Club members would ride down the road with brooms sticking out of car windows. The longtime member related one broom-selling visit where a man answered the door and a woman could be seen in the background. It was an easy sell, Paxton said. “I need a broom,” the man said. “That’s my mother-in-law and she needs a new one to ride on.”

The service, humor and somewhat self-deprecating attitude of club members — the single clap given to recognize a fellow club speaker or achievement — makes me feel quite at home, as does the club’s mission: “Serving Children of Blount County and the world … one child at a time.”

And so many who have served the club and the community for so long provide an example of humility in service, as was evidenced by Bill Proffitt, who on Monday was presented with the George F. Hixson Fellowship award. In announcing the award, Bruce Watt noted that Proffitt has not only been a longtime member of Alcoa Kiwanis, but also has a history of civic involvement.

“Talk about being shocked,” Proffitt said following the presentation. “I was looking around to see who would’ve deserved such an honor.”

And with that, I’ll give a “CLAP!”