The Star Gospel Mission

One night, sitting out front of the mission, a bare-chested man came up and pointed to the banner above us. “Christian! Christian! Christian!” he yelled. He moved to the right, and yelled, “1904! 1904! 1904!” He repeated this process once more and then left. Those of us out front looked at each other and smiled, wondering what in the world he was talking about, but, in actuality, he pretty much summed it up.

The Star Gospel Mission has been serving the homeless and near-homeless of the city since 1904, making it the oldest Christian welfare organization in the city. It was founded by Obadiah Dugan, whose family operated the mission for three generations, 84 years, until 1986. Today, the mission is operated by only its fifth director, the Rev. William K. Christian III. The mission has survived its fair share of triumphs and struggles, the most damaging being hurricane Hugo in 1989, that destroyed the original building at 474 Meeting Street and the beach cottage and summer camp located on Sullivan’s Island. It was saved only when funds from a variety of sources began to pour in, and when the frontage property—that now sits directly on Meeting Street—was sold to pay for the new building, tucked behind the Sherwin Williams with a view of the Post and Courier building.


Today, if you showed up at the Star Gospel Mission looking for a place to stay, the first person you’d likely meet is Matthew, our cook, who would ask, “Can I help you?” and then direct you towards the Rev. The Rev, Pastor Christian, would shake your hand, look you in the eyes, and ask you to sit down. He’d ask who you are, where you came from, what your criminal record and background is. The Rev can size you up in just a few sentences. He’d explain the rules. Monday through Friday, you have to be out at 7:30 am and can’t come back until 4 pm. You have to be working. You have to be at the mandatory church service at 8 am Sunday mornings, and you can’t do drugs or drink. You have a weekly chore and have to take turns cleaning the kitchen and the dining room. It costs $90 a week—that covers your rent, your utilities, your dinners and coffee and a bagel in the morning.

Afterwards, Matthew will take you to the back, where there are 22 beds in 9 different cubicles, and give you the sheets to your bed. He’ll show you your locker, and tell you to keep your shoes in order. He’ll show you the showers, and tell you to wear flip flops, and as you walk out he’ll tell you to make sure you turn out the light. That’s pretty much it.

Of course, the richness of the experience is in the lives around you, in the conversations and idiosyncrasies of the men, in the struggles they experience and the stories they tell. Otherwise, it’s just a set of walls with some beds and chairs and a T.V., a kitchen and a bathroom, like where anybody else lives. But this is the Star Gospel Mission, where I live, a place that in the words of The Rev “gives guys a second lease on life,” “a hand up and not a hand out,” and “transforms hearts and lives for Jesus Christ.”

So that’s pretty much it, and has been since 1904.

Where we’re at

Psalm 140: 12—“I know that the Lord secures justice for the poor and upholds the cause of the needy.”

In Every Story is an officially sanctioned nonprofit in the state of South Carolina. We have been since September. The past few months have been spent researching, planning, and thinking. We’ve been determining costs, meeting with insurance agents, meeting with contractors, and meeting with businessmen who believe this is a plausible idea and who can guide us in the right direction. We’ve been talking with the guys at the Star Gospel Mission too, in the meantime helping with resumes and the things that we can do here and now, and making sure that In Every Story would be useful and beneficial to them.

At the end of November Pete went home for Thanksgiving and came down with malaria, which raised serious concern among the men at the mission who didn’t know Pete had spent the previous year in Africa and otherwise assumed he’d gotten it there, and then in December as Pete was spending time with his new fiancé home from the Peace Corps my grandfather was finally ending a long battle with an array of sicknesses that ended just before Christmas. So that’s that and now it’s the New Year.

Right now we’re in the stages of making a business plan to raise money from investors, and submitting our 501 (c) (3) so that our business will be tax exempt. It’s more or less the sink or swim part of what we’re trying to do, but once we do these things we should begin to know one way or the other, probably by the summer. I keep hearing that life is like this and life is like that, and a lot of these images are about not giving up, that if you’re in the middle of something and you don’t know where, and it’s dark, and you’re not even positive you’re going in the right direction, you’re best, really only option, is forwards, and if you insist on going forwards you’ll suddenly make it to the other side. It’s an idea I’m keen on holding on to for all of my life. So pray for us as we take these steps, begin to raise money, and then solicit business from contractors in the area. Pray that if it’s something that would help people who are homeless and near homeless and that would be beneficial to those who honestly are trying, that God makes it happen for those people.

At the Fair

About two months ago, Derek and I visited a friend working day labor at the Coastal Carolina Fair. We put together this reflection.

Errol is 50 years old with a salt-and-pepper beard and calloused hands. Spasms in his hip and pains in his chest cause him to walk with a delicacy that belies an athletic wit. At dawn this morning he went to a day labor agency in the downtown and requested work. Tonight, he is at the Coastal Carolina Fair working on contract with that day labor agency. In a bright orange vest, he weaves his way between kids and couples and colored lights, sweeping up $4 lemonades and grease-stained napkins, the remnants of other people’s pleasant evenings.

His hip has gone numb. He is tired. But he wishes he could work longer. He arrived at the day labor agency at 6 AM and won’t return from the fair until midnight, but only five of those hours were on the clock. Five hours at minimum wage minus the standard $5.50 transportation fee won’t leave him with much to show for his day’s effort. Certainly not enough to treat himself to a lemonade. Certainly not enough to put even a little into savings. He’s trying, and he’s tired, but he’s no closer to escaping homelessness. He will go back to the day labor agency tomorrow. He may get work. He may get turned away.

The National Low Income Housing Coalition calculates that a full-time worker must earn $15.13 per hour in order to be able to afford the Fair Market Rent for a two-bedroom Charleston apartment. A worker earning minimum wage would have to put in 92 hours per week every week of the year in order to afford that apartment.

Errol doesn’t want a two-bedroom apartment. He just wants a place of his own to lay his head, a place to continue his misguided devotion to the Yankees. And he wants to be paid fairly for what he does.

A local news station recently reported that over the past two years a day labor agency in this community has seen a 30% increase in the number of men coming to it in search of work. The men who find it there are almost always paid minimum wage.
What would a day labor agency look like if it were created from the perspective of homeless workers rather than profit margins? In Every Story, whose founders both voluntarily reside at Star Gospel Mission, is answering that question while helping homeless and near-homeless workers like Errol on their paths to self-sufficiency.

The fairgrounds look exceptionally clean tonight. Did you notice?