Providing service for those who need a lift
Non-profit offers rides for homebound seniors
One woman in her 90s bemoans living in a conservative neighborhood. Back in the day, she tells Mary Yasuda, a volunteer driver for Neighbors Who Care, she was a bra-burner.
Another woman waits to be picked up for her ride to hair appointments in freshly ironed blouses, stylish pants and what Yasuda describes, sweeping her hands broadly around her collarbone, as the perfect statement necklace.
Yasuda beams as she talks about these and other clients of the Sun Lakes organization, which trains and organizes volunteers to do a bevy of tasks to help seniors remain in their homes as long as possible. She doesn’t mention their names, but the expressive tone in her voice, wide eyes and lift in her cheekbones indicate they have become more than names on the non-profit’s client list.
“It’s so interesting to learn their stories and what they’ve been through,” Yasuda says.
But then she recalls one woman who needed a ride to the bank. When Yasuda picked her up, she was wearing a wellworn casual dress. The holes in her
bedroom slippers revealed those were equally loved.
“While I’m impressed by so many people and hearing their stories, I’m also saddened. Some have outlived their children and find themselves alone,” Yasuda says, as a single tear rolls from the inner corner of her left eye, behind her glasses, followed by one on the right.
Yasuda says she keeps all conversation light. It’s a distraction for them, and for her. It also helps to create a bond and brings some dignity to those who feel abandoned by it.
In addition to driving clients, Yasuda works at the Neighbors Who Care headquarters once a week, scheduling fellow volunteers for driving assignments. That’s the task she’s doing on this recent Tuesday afternoon.
Yasuda’s experiences are similar to those of her weekly front-office co-pilot, Pat Naive, who has volunteered for 31⁄2 years. The women share a reception space near the main door. Naive is the first face people see when they walk in.
It’s 12:50 p.m. The phone rings. Naive answers cheerily. The caller identifies herself.
“Hi, Monica!” Naive responds, then says reassuringly: “Yes, Jean is going to take you.” Naive ends the call with a merry “You have a good day.”
A retired receptionist, Naive knows her way around a phone system, and customer service with a smile — even if those on the other side of the call can’t see it — comes naturally. She moved here four years ago from St. Louis so that she and her husband, Frank, also a Neighbors volunteer, could be close to their grandchildren. Like Yasuda, Naive also drives clients to and from their errands.
During downtime, Naive searches for available shifts on the computer. It’s her version of volunteer shopping. Meanwhile, Yasuda calls volunteers one by one, hoping they can fill open shifts. She introduces herself to a volunteer named Larry. The call lasts less than a minute. Larry will be out of town the following week and is unable to take any shifts.
“OK, have a good time,” Yasuda kindly tells him. She hangs up and moves on to the next name.
It’s the week before Thanksgiving, and Yasuda is getting turned down often, as many volunteers will be spending the holiday out of town or entertaining guests. Rarely is the organization unable to find drivers, although it’s more likely in the summer, when most volunteers have returned to their summer homes. Medical appointments are given priority.
Yasuda isn’t worried, no matter how often volunteers decline to take a shift.
“We always find someone. We always find a way,” she says.
Yasuda moved with her husband to Sun Lakes four years ago from Virginia after retiring from 30 years in education, where she held nearly every position from teacher’s aide to counselor. They also made the move to be close to their grandchildren, and Yasuda has been volunteering since.
“I didn’t retire to sit around and watch TV,” she says.
More than a paycheck
It’s 1:30 p.m. The phone rings. Naive answers and hears a familiar voice.
“Hi, Monica!” Naive responds to the same caller from 40 minutes ago. This time, Monica is calling because she remembered she will need a ride to the eye doctor. On her computer, Naive looks up the address of Monica’s eye clinic.
“OK, we’ve got you down,” Naive promises.
Once, Naive got a call from a woman around 4:30 p.m., when the office closes for the day. The woman was slightly panicked because she needed to get her medicine at Walgreens and had no way to get there. Naive offered to pick it up for her and drop it off on the way home.
“She appreciated that someone would do that for her,” Naive says. “When I’m done here, I feel like I’m doing something. And that’s worth more than getting paid.”
A team of 500 active volunteers like Yasuda and Naive make possible the 13 services offered by Neighbors Who Care to older clients who are homebound, frail or disabled, explains Executive Director Eric Ehst.
Rides to doctor appointments are the most popular requests, followed by meal deliveries and grocery-store shopping. Clients even request assistance with tasks such as changing an air filter or providing respite to a family caregiver.
Three times a week, a van transports able-bodied clients to a grocery store. Clients have nicknamed it the “party van” and even once organized a midday birthday party for one of the regulars during the shopping trip.
All services are provided free and rely heavily on volunteers, who responded to 650 calls last year, Ehst says. About 80 percent of clients are female, and 40 percent of all clients are 85 or older. Neighbors’ oldest client is a 104-year-old woman who lives with her 98-year-old husband.
The majority retired to the Valley and have no family members locally. The typical client is a homebound widow, older than 75, who lives alone and lacks extended family members or financial resources to obtain other forms of assistance.
“We get four or five thank-you notes each week. They tell us, ‘I couldn’t live the life I want to lead without you,’ ” Ehst says.
While volunteers provide the services, Season for Sharing funding helps play for background checks and ensures that volunteers are properly trained. It also provides support to the daily operations that coordinate scheduling between clients and volunteers. For example, Neighbors installed a new database to better coordinate activities, Ehst says. Three years ago, it launched a partnership with Dignity Health to provide followups on those recently released from the hospital who have no family support at home.
“Everything that we get from Season for Sharing is crucial to continuing what we do, but also to grow by adding programs in the last few years,” Ehst says.
Neighbors Who Care serves a 32-square-mile area that encompasses Sun Lakes and extends into south Chandler. However, volunteers drive clients Valley-wide.
The non-profit was born in 1994, when a group of residents realized many of their neighbors could no longer drive to doctors’ appointments or the grocery store. Sun Lakes lacks municipal services found in other cities, such as Meals on Wheels or Dial-A-Ride, so the residents started volunteering to drive their homebound neighbors on key errands.
In 1997, it adopted its current name; it was incorporated as a non-profit in 1999.
Paying it forward
Nearly 90 minutes have gone by since Yasuda started calling volunteers to fill shifts. She’s had some success, even with it being near Thanksgiving. Clients must request a ride at least three days in advance, but a last-minute doctor’s appointment can be accommodated.
“Sometimes, (the people we drive) don’t really get to talk to people, so it’s their special outing,” Yasuda says.
Seeing clients’ gratitude every time she gives them a ride or facilitates a volunteer to assist them is Yasuda’s biggest reward. She also looks ahead.
“The way I see it, I’m paying it forward, because someday, someone will have to do this for me,” she says.
Occasionally, clients call with a problem or question, or request just to hear someone else assure them all will be OK. Naive agrees that every now and then, someone will call just to talk to someone, even if it’s for a minute and only to confirm an appointment that’s already been confirmed.
The clock above Naive’s desk reads 2:10 p.m. The phone rings. Naive picks it up. A smile spreads across her face.
“Hi, Monica!”