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- Volunteers (left to right) Kathy Broman, Terri Watson, Mike McNeil, Mike McMillan and Lynelle Mazza prepare Zion Lutheran Church’s annual Thanksgiving Day community dinner in Trinidad, Colo. Photos: Peter Severson
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- Volunteer Matt Bishop tends to Zion’s line of deep fryers during the congregation’s Fry Day prep event.
Trinidad, Colo., has always been a crossroads for travelers. It sits at the intersection of Interstate 25 and an Amtrak route running from Chicago to Los Angeles; the historic Santa Fe Trail passes through the area as well. These days, the town has reached an economic and demographic crossroads: old, boom-time industries like mining have contracted, and a lack of job opportunities for young people has led to a shrinking population and aging infrastructure.
But Trinidad is much more than its economic situation. Just ask the people of Zion Lutheran Church, led by its vicar, Lisa Rygiel, and council president, Julie Wersal. Zion worships in the oldest Lutheran church building in Colorado, built in 1889 by German immigrants (and with the notable support of the local Jewish community). It is also the home of the meal ministry 5 Loaves, which offers a home-cooked meal once a month to anyone in the community who wants one.
5 Loaves, named for Jesus’ feeding of the 5,000, evolved out of an initial monetary gift by a congregation member and was originally targeted at providing a meal for seniors who were running out of money and food at the end of the month. The ministry is coordinated by Norine Hazen, one of Zion’s longest-tenured members.
Every November, 5 Loaves’ monthly meal turns into something extra-special: its Thanksgiving Day community dinner, a tradition that long predates the ministry itself.
Nearly 1,000 meals were served in this town of less than 9,000—a notable ratio of impact for a congregation with less than 100 members.
In 1994, as Wersal tells it, members of the congregation offered a Thanksgiving dinner to students from nearby Trinidad State Junior College who couldn’t go home for the holiday. Over the years, that initial act of hospitality and service has evolved into a ministry that has served thousands of turkey dinners to community members. Last year, nearly 1,000 meals were served, whether in person or delivered, in this town of less than 9,000—a notable ratio of impact for a congregation with less than 100 members.
On a sunny weekend earlier this month, Zion hosted its annual Fry Day, an event in which many of the donated turkeys are deep-fried and carved in preparation for Thanksgiving. Outside the parish hall, deep fryers lay out on a tarp, propane hissing and oil already bubbling. Bill Winter, who oversaw the setup, isn’t a Zion member, but he has helped lead the frying for the better part of a decade.
Winter started with one fryer and then figured that with two, he could do twice as many turkeys. Eight deep fryers later, he can turn out 50 turkeys in less than six hours. “It’s something I’m just happy to do, and these guys have volunteered year after year,” he said of those assembled.
“It takes a whole community”
Inside the parish hall, volunteers were outfitted with aprons and carving knives. Once the turkeys were fried, they needed at least 30 minutes to cool down enough to be handled. When they were ready, the volunteers carved the meat—some turkeys were carved in just seven minutes—and set it into aluminum trays that went back in the freezer, to be reheated and served on Thanksgiving Day. The carcasses were bagged up for later use in making gravy for the meal. “We don’t waste anything!” Hazen said proudly.
As meal coordinator, Hazen receives a torrent of donations—food but also time, money, resources and facilities—thanks to the goodwill of community members who have recognized the impact of the ministry. Just as Hazen was extolling the community’s generosity, a man walked in with 100 pounds of potatoes from his family’s farm in the San Luis Valley.
The “Fry Boys” managing the fryers outside offered tips on proper technique—the bird must be 100% defrosted to be safely fried, for example. They also shared colorful stories about Trinidad and its coal-mining and bootlegging history.
Inside, volunteers—both those affiliated with Zion and those not—included an art teacher, a Peabody Award-winning journalist, a retired Disciples of Christ minister and a Marine. Together they discussed what it means to them to support an outreach effort of this size. “I just do what Norine tells me to do,” Rygiel said with a laugh. “It surprises me every year that we can pull this off.”
“It surprises me every year that we can pull this off.”
Volunteers were uniformly pleased with the day’s effort, including Jo Moss, a Zion member who coordinates the logistical challenges of meal delivery drivers, routes and recipients. “A lot of these [volunteers] aren’t even members of our church,” said Hazen as she worked with Moss on refining the list of recipients. “It’s the community that comes together. That’s what I like about it!”
The wider Trinidad community has taken notice of Zion’s efforts: the congregation receives donations not only from individuals but from local businesses, including the local Safeway supermarket, in support of its Thanksgiving dinner. It also receives financial and food donations from other churches. “It truly is an ecumenical effort,” Rygiel said.
Another volunteer, Donna (last name withheld), agreed. “It really takes a whole community to do this,” she said as she cleaned the parish hall after another successful Fry Day. “Forty people can feed a thousand.” The resonance with the story of Jesus’ miracle was no coincidence. “Jesus said, ‘Feed my lambs,’” Hazen added. “And that’s what we do here.”
