The Food Pantry Where Black Voters Seek Refuge From Donald Trump - New York Times

Helping, and Receiving Help

Ms. Solomon turned up at the Kitchen of Love four years ago, frightened and sick. “I was hoping it would help me to eat better,” she said.

A daughter of a factory worker and a Philadelphia police officer, Ms. Solomon is a private woman, and not as financially secure as some of the people she now serves. She inherited her house from her mother, raised five children and lost two sons to violence. She was engaged once, but never married; in a quiet moment, she wondered if “maybe I should have, because I would have a husband to help me out.”

Still, during her 27 years at the Ford factory, later spun off as a subsidiary called Visteon, she “considered myself middle class.” Active in her union, she took trips to cities like Cincinnati, where she shook hands with Mr. Obama at the N.A.A.C.P. convention in 2008. She thought he might save the plant, but it closed in 2010. She does not blame him.

“I blame Ford,” she said.

A poster of the Obama family in Cuts Correct, a barbershop in Mount Airy. Many residents are mourning the end of President Obama’s tenure. Hilary Swift for The New York Times

She was too young for early retirement, and the Affordable Care Act had not yet become law. She declined coverage under the Cobra program; she needed the money, she said, to buy heating oil for her house. When her unemployment compensation ran out, she dipped into her pension, agreeing to benefits at a vastly reduced rate: roughly $5,000 a year.

The local community college offers a human services program — “to prepare graduates for careers as professionals in mental health agencies and social services,” according to its website — and Ms. Solomon enrolled. She has no computer and was often on campus until 10 p.m.

“I wasn’t really eating,” she said. “Maybe twice a week I would go to the cafeteria and eat half a turkey sandwich with lettuce and tomatoes on, but most of the time I drank Mountain Dew and Pepsis and coffee and cakes to keep myself alert, for the sugar. I would wake up at 3 in the morning, trying to do homework.”

EAST MOUNT AIRY, Pa.

Then the fainting spells started. She spent five days in the hospital getting blood transfusions. Mrs. Trice later helped her find a doctor. Today, Ms. Solomon has health coverage through Medicaid, expanded in Pennsylvania under the Affordable Care Act.

“She came to me asking for help,” Mrs. Trice recalled. “And after maybe six months, she asked me, ‘Could I volunteer?’”

Comfort in Uncertain Times

Parked outside Mrs. Trice’s home is a rusty white pickup truck, with 172,000 miles on it and a creaky driver’s-side door that needs to be slammed several times before it will shut. Stepping off the bus, Ms. Solomon pulled the key out of her purse: Her volunteer duties include driving to local grocery stores to pick up their castoffs.

“This is my quiet time,” she said.

A mile away, Mrs. Trice was barking out orders amid shelves of canned goods and 30-pound “senior boxes” of food for the elderly that are distributed once a month. Gospel music played on an old boom box. A truck from Philabundance, the regional hunger relief organization, was on the way.

As much as food, the Kitchen of Love offers comfort in an uncertain world. It is a place to debate whether the new Powerball lottery is a good value or a scam; to get tips on which programs help with home heating costs; to watch the schoolchildren, in uniforms of khaki and blue, scamper around the playground — and maybe get a kiss from a grandchild passing by.

It is also, lately, a place to vent about a presidential race that feels too horrible to watch, yet too compelling to avoid.