Cash in the Kettle

Cash in the Kettle:

Confessions of a Holiday Bell Ringer

Larry Struck

larry.struck1@gmail.com

12/25/2021

Having learned that the Salvation Army was not finding enough volunteer “bell ringers” this year, I decided to sign up for a couple of shifts. Given a choice of locations I picked two supermarkets in Edina. For variety, we can call one a mid-price range store and the other more up-market. These grocers seemed like potentially lucrative locations to extract donations from busy shoppers spending generously for holiday celebrations.

The Salvation Army has officially been around since 1865 when William Booth brought his ministerial project to the slums in the East End of London. This was a time of an impoverished underclass produced by the Industrial Revolution—think Dickens. The organization has since grown into a world wide presence providing all kinds of assistance to people in need. Forbes ranks them the third largest charity in the U.S. with an astonishing $4 billion in revenue, of which about half comes from private donations. I was not aware of the vast scope of their activity which includes: meals and food pantries; help with rent, housing and utilities; healthcare and prescription drug aid; back to school programs; the list goes on. Their projects are administered with a touch of evangelical uplift which gives the organization their long standing spiritually militant image.

It seemed like a good cause with the potential for leveraging my own efforts beyond writing a check. So after signing up online, choosing two hour shifts and receiving a quick orientation I arrived at my first assignment on an unseasonably warm day at the mid-range store. I walked up to the metal stand with a red kettle dangling in the center. Underneath the kettle hung a small red pack containing the equipment needed by a bellringer: a red apron with logo to identify me as one of the foot soldiers, hand sanitizer, masks, and the iconic bell to ring. Then with everything ready it was time to go to work and shake my moneymaker.

Of course not everyone who sees the red kettle and hears the bell will donate. People are busy as they walk into the store. For some, the hanging pot cues a reflex of reaching for their wallet or some change. Others looked too preoccupied as if this grocery run was task #5 out of 14 they needed to get done that day. Occasionally folks would stop and talk. Some explained that they’d already given online—thank you—while others promised to stop back after shopping when they had cash. Many thanked me for bellringing and I in turn thanked everyone for their contributions. I also heard a few personal stories like the woman who told me that growing up in a family with eleven children her mother had often turned to the Salvation Army for help.

For non-contributors there can be a delicate moment when you make eye contact with someone who is just walking past. They may experience a flash of guilt or annoyance at being expected to give money, as if taken off guard. I felt it was important to smile and be a little gracious at that point since no one is obligated to give. On average it seemed that at most a quarter of the customers came across with at least some coins. I had worked on fundraising projects in the distant past but this immediate and direct contact was different from strategizing the market, planning direct mail campaigns or even phone banking.

A few days later it was time for my second afternoon shift, this one at the up-market grocer. Same arrangement as before except for the weather. Instead of a comfortable 51 degrees, I’d now be standing outside the main entrance when it was 16 degrees. A 35 degree plunge in temperature makes a difference when you’re planted in one place for two hours. So I prepared by digging out my heavy parka, Sorel boots and warmest gloves. I felt, and looked, like Dr. Zhivago or Will Steger trudging across the tundra. I must have dressed right since I didn’t really feel the cold but did have sore feet the next day from standing on concrete so long. I’ve developed an instant empathy with service workers who need to stay on their feet.

There were a few differences between the mid- and up-level stores. Customers at the upscale store were less chatty, maybe not quite sure how to relate to a blatant plea for charity. There were several customer curbside drop offs ten feet away as luxury cars would stop to discharge a passenger who usually brushed past my bright red kettle with no acknowledgement. More than one shopper emerged from the store with a check they’d just written to stuff in the kettle. Others wondered how to donate by credit card. Overall, people at both stores were civil and appreciative of the bellringing project. I can absolutely say from observation that having a live person next to the red kettle makes all the difference. Without a human presence and the clanging bell people just walk by.

As for the take, the Salvation Army states that an average hour of bellringing produces about $30, enough to shelter a family for one night or buy two bags of groceries. By that measure my two shifts were a roaring success. Based on my casual glances at the bills being inserted in the kettle, we netted a few hundred dollars each shift. That’s not counting the checks of unknown amount. At least one person dropped in a C note. I hope it all translates into a somewhat happier holiday season for the many people in need.