Chapter 8 "The Safest Place In America"

Lincoln Park is an inner city community in Hampton, Virginia. It is a Housing Development Authority community and predominantly occupied by African Americans. The crime rate is high. Shootings happen on a regular basis. This community became one of the safest places for me, a caucasian man in his late forties to early fifties. How does this happen? Normally, men who look like me in that neighborhood are bill collectors or city detectives and neither are welcome here.

The Lord has called me and blessed me with the skills to minister to children in inner city communities. I was seeking for a neighborhood to start our Power Hour ministry. The Power Hour is called sidewalk sunday school or you could describe it as a children’s church that we present outside on a Saturday or weekday evening.

When it was Christmas time, my wife and I would buy presents for children and then ask the local police if they knew of a needy family. They always did. The Hampton City Police kindly led us to a poor Muslim family in some run down apartments. Even though they were Muslims, the mother was deeply touched by our generosity and kindness.

After giving the family the gifts I approached the police with another question. I told them about our Power Hour program. I then asked them where was the roughest and most needy neighborhood where perhaps our program could make a difference. Immediately, both policeman said “Lincoln Park”. I set my eyes, my prayers and my preparation on Lincoln Park for the next three months. As soon as the warm spring weather appeared, we would start our ministry there.

I began prayer walking the neighborhood regularly. I started talking to residents about our program. I was directed to an elderly lady pastor who lived in the high rise building in Lincoln Park. Families lived in the low rise building and elderly and handicapped in the high rise. I knocked on the lady pastor’s door. She suspiciously greeted me and asked why was I there. I began to tell her about our proposed programs for the children and immediately she invited me inside to hear more. She excitedly told me that this is exactly what she had been praying for! There was a community center for the children but they did not offer any religious or spiritual programs because they were funded by the government. We did not need a building for our program. We only needed a large grassy area and a place to park my van with the sound system.

I asked her who did I need to contact to get permission. She sternly looked at me and said “You are talking to her! I am the pastor of this community and I give you permission for your program.” Before I had asked this question I knew that I had found the key person to make our program successful. My experience working in inner city communities has shown me that there is usually a “matriarchal” leader in the community. Someone’s grandma who has lived there forever is usually the door to the community. In this case it was this elderly lady pastor. We had a great relationship during the five years that I ministered in Lincoln Park. This relationship kept the door open for us.

That May we started the Power Hour Sidewalk Sunday School in LIncoln Park. The first thing we did was knock on the doors of every home in the community and hand out a promotion flyer for the program. We would do this the day before the program started. Those initial meetings with the residents can be very intimidating! Many of the doors open and a huge African American man sees me and shouts, “What do you want?” I muster up some courage and hand them a flyer and tell them that we have a great program for the kids starting tomorrow. The flyer has a tear off for the kids to get a free blow pop and a chance to win a huge Super Soaker squirt gun. Most would take the flyer and slam the door in our face.

The Power Hour starts the following afternoon. The kids come running with their flyers looking for their free blow pop and the chance to win the Super Soaker. In order to have a chance to win the prize they have to fill out the bottom tear-off portion with their names, apartment number and if possible a contact number. We take the tears-offs and load the information into the computer for a data base for future visits.

The children love the Power Hour and so do their parents and caregivers. It is a fun, fast program that teaches Bible lessons each week. There is fun, music, games, and prizes! We always finish with a popsicle or ice cream bar. Weather permitting, we run it every week May through September. Fifty to sometimes over a hundred children would join us each week. We follow up with visit to children’s homes. Our goal was to visit every child in their homes, once per month.

As I said before, someone who looks like me knocking doors in this neighborhood is looked at suspiciously. After a few visits and the adults seeing the success of our program, the suspicions cease. My team and I are greeted with, “Pastor Tim, I know you are here to visit my child (niece, nephew or grandchild) but could you take time to pray for me?” We have prayed for drug addicts, alcoholics, struggling single moms, sick family members and many other prayer requests. Prayers are answered and relationships are built. When we are invited into the home, we are able to notice if there are needs. We have returned with boxes of food, mattresses for beds and used clothing. I always loved when we are able to meet those needs and see the appreciation from those families. We eventually found free bread and bake goods from a Bread Ministry and delivered them to the community on Saturday mornings.

The community endearingly calls me and knows me as “Pastor Tim”. They have come to know, love and trust us. When I come into the neighborhood either for the Power Hour or visitation, the kids come running. Sometimes on visitation I feel like the Pied Piper. The children follow us from house to house and give us the lowdown on each family. They become a great source of information. They always know when there is a new resident or family and quickly introduce us.

Our team is required to wear our Power Hour Shirts with a distinct colorful logo on the front when we work in the community. We try to go two by two and not go at night. Under these guidelines, this neighborhood probably becomes the safest place in America for me. I am trusted and I also trust. I am protected.

One cold evening, I had to go visit a family. I normally tried to not go by myself but this night either out of lack of wisdom or necessity, I went by myself. I wore my Power Hour Shirt under my black wool coat. I made my visit and proceeded to where I parked my car. I was also aware of a corner where most of the drug deals went down. My car was parked near this corner and I carelessly proceeded that way. I watched in many of these drug deals where they had watchmen at different key places. If a cop or detective approached they would used their Nextel phones with the radio feature to warn the others. The Nextels give off a distinctive “beep-beep” when used.

I walked around the corner of a building and about fifty yards away, the deal was going down. I heard the Nextels and then heard “Get him!” I immediately knew this was towards me! I learned from our Power Lessons of Moses that when Moses did not know what to do, he prayed. I prayed, “Lord, Help me?!” Four men from different directions were approaching me and reaching into their jackets. The Lord did help me! The Holy Spirit gave me wisdom and I quickly unbuttoned my wool coat and like Superman exposed my Power Hour Logo on the front of my t-shirt. Once again I heard a Nextel and a voice say “Back off, it’s only Pastor Tim.”

This was an almost completely African American community in Southeast Virginia! Prejudice is rampant. Trust is only earned with time and respect. For me this became a safe place because the love of Jesus breaks through prejudice. Jesus poured loved into our hearts for the community and the community, He built a trust for us. Respect was given and received. I worked five years in this community. Our ministry was honored by the city for our work there. I love those families and especially those kids. I miss you, Lincoln Park!