Christmas shoppers identify them by the red kettle dangling from a tripod, and the Salvation Army shield emblazoned on their aprons. But most of us have no idea who’s under that Santa hat, swinging their arm for hours.
After a bitter north wind roared into Central Texas on Monday morning, and the thermometer plummeted to freezing, several workers huddled in front of a small church on 21st Street in Temple to pick up the tools of their trade: red vest, red plastic kettle, and the silver or gold bell that can be heard ringing at malls, grocery stores and shopping centers during the holiday season.
On frigid days like Monday, staying warm could depend on attitude, location, or could just not happen, period.
Kevin Jones, 21, explained the pain of thawing and refreezing. “Once you get numb, you’re all right. But those breaks inside, they’ll kill ya.”
“You’ve got to have the spirit, or you’re not going to stay warm,” preaches Ricky Lewis, a 44-year-old bricklayer out of work for the season.
Another bricklayer, James Clawson, 31, hopes for a good spot. “If you’re lucky, you’ll get on the east side of the mall where the sun’s at,” he said, although heavy clouds blanketed the sky.
A Bell County Salvation Army captain said bell ringers come from all walks of life. Some volunteer through local churches and colleges. Others are down on their luck.
“We have a lot of people on disability. Some have been laid off. Some need additional Christmas cash,” Capt. Martha Burchett said. “This is a job they can do to get them over the hump.”
Bell ringers must pass a background check and watch a training video before they can go to work. On the job, strict guidelines apply. No eating, no cell phones, no asking for money, no touching money, and never, never let the kettle out of sight.
Although kettles are secured with a padlock, Capt. Burchett and others periodically check on bell ringers, incognito, to ensure the system’s integrity is not compromised. To prove a point, she once stole an inattentive bell ringer’s kettle. Other than her faux heist, she said they have never had any theft.
Outside the small church Monday morning, bare tree limbs shiver in the cold. A Salvation Army coordinator unlocks the door. Gayle Meyer, 58, fires up the coffeemaker and pours hot java for nine bell ringers, a low turnout. She points out the extra layers of clothes she has on and says she likes to be outdoors.
“It keeps me busy. My husband passed away and I get bored. I’ve been doing this six years. I like to help in the community,” Ms. Meyer said. “They put me wherever they need me.”
This is the first year for Kellie Sylvester, 39, who rings the bell about 40 hours a week, mostly at the Belton Walgreens. Her husband works part-time at a local motel. The smiling mother of two looks like she just got off a snowmobile.
“I got three pairs of socks, two pairs of pants, two sweatshirts and a work shirt,” she says, forgetting to mention the hooded parka, three gloves on the right hand and two gloves on the left.
Back outside, a Plymouth Voyager van with a broken rear window and an electric wheelchair riding on the back bumper pulls up. Little Richard Killebrew lowers the steel rack, and his father, Big Richard, drives the wheelchair inside the church building.
Although bell ringers are required to stand while on duty, the Salvation Army makes an exception for Killebrew, 65, whose knees “are shot.” He keeps warm with a blanket.
“I like doing this because it’s the only thing I can do,” the retired construction worker says. “I get a little income; I get out of the house, and I meet people. It’s cold. It’s rough. It’s a bad feeling, but it’s a good feeling too.”
Two women who live in nearby homeless shelters showed up Monday, bundled up like snow skiers. They say ringing Salvation Army bells gives them a sense of purpose, contributing to the community while earning money.
One young bell ringer stumbled on a touching way to keep warm. Jones, the 21-year-old who wants to learn heating and air conditioning, said an elderly woman walking with a cane caught him off guard.
“She hugged me and blessed me, and it was cold, too,” Jones said. “ My day went fine after that.”
No bell ringers were out Tuesday because of the cold weather. So far this year, the kettle program is several thousand dollars behind its goal of $90,000, Capt. Burchett said.
