A man eating alone in Denver finds the compassion he craved
Dennis Emigh nodded with approval at the plate of turkey, mashed potatoes, green beans and stuffing set in front of him at The Salvation Army’s Thanksgiving meal, but what he really craved was warm conversation.
Emigh, who is hard of hearing, locked eyes with hundreds of patrons at the Colorado Convention Center who had come to get a free meal and some company for the holiday.
“Do you speak ASL (American Sign Language)?” he’d ask, a polite smile settling over his face when the answer was “no.”
Emigh ate by himself, surrounded by the uproarious conversation of people finding community over a hot meal in downtown Denver.
Nearly 200 Salvation Army volunteers in red aprons scurried around the convention center, hoisting trays of donated food, beverages and desserts to those in need. People from all walks of life — struggling families with children, the homeless, elderly, the disabled, those without anywhere else to go — sat cafeteria-style at long tables sipping on coffee and sharing their stories.
Jason Leyva said being around people made the holidays easier after losing his mom recently.
“A place like this — it really does help,” Leyva said while savoring his food. “Plus, this turkey is really good.”
After the turkey, Leyva planned to head back to the New Genesis shelter, where he lives, for another round of Thanksgiving eats.
Twelve-year-old boys Andrew Curtis and Connor Adrian bounced between the food stations and tables, arms full of goodies to pass out. The boys spent Thanksgiving Day serving those in need along with their families.
“It’s fun to see everybody smile,” Curtis said. “I like talking to them. If you’re nice to them, they’re going to go be nice to someone maybe living on the streets. Kindness spreads very quickly.”
As attendees filled their bellies, The Salvation Army brass band
played holiday songs that filled the room with the kind of festivity only live music can.
The musicians made a whopping impact on Emigh — if not by their instruments, then their compassion. By the time dessert rolled around, Emigh wasn’t eating alone. He was joined by flugelhorn player Gwyndollynn Potter, who learned sign language when she was in college. Emigh dropped his fork and signed and signed and signed, emotion painted across his face. He shared how hard it was being away from his wife, who he was trying to support by working in Denver while she lives in New York. He talked about braving the cold and living on his own.
Potter nodded, occasionally putting her hand to her heart. The musician spent the rest of the meal listening to her newfound friend.
“This has been fantastic,” Potter said. “I have just really enjoyed our conversation. This is what Thanksgiving is about.”