Thanksgiving service beyond the numbers

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Madi Thomas , 6, serves up milk at the end of the Thankgiving dinner assembly line prepared by the men in the Salvation Army's rehab center Thursday morning. She was part of the extended Cline-Paxton families that has been dishing up the prepared food as a tradition for 10 years. This year 600 Thanksgiving meals were distributed to shut-ins by volunteers.

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The men in the Salvation Army's rehabilitation program cooking turkeys and stuffing early Thursday morning didn't stop to tally the numbers of holidays they had missed to drug and alcoholic addiction.

"You can't get the holidays back with your family," said Jared, 28, reared in Cottonwood Heights. He remembered being physically present at his family's house last Thanksgiving -- "but not really." (Like his colleagues in the drug rehab program, Jared asked to be identified only by his first name.)

Personal challenges aside, numbers often can tell the true story behind recovery.

Numbers such as the 636 meals delivered by 120 groups of volunteers who brought holiday gratitude to home-bound seniors throughout the Salt Lake Valley, a massive holiday service effort coordinated in partnership with Salt Lake County's Meals on Wheels program.

Or numbers like 25, the number of years that Rosemary Grimm -- who refers to herself as "the Thanksgiving lady" -- has been corralling Salvation Army volunteers and organizing deliveries for the annual effort.

Or 17, which is the number of members of the Cline-Paxton family that dished up turkey. "If we don't do this, it's not Thanksgiving -- it's just a day with a big meal," said family matriarch Kathy Cline.

Or numbers like the 85 turkeys cooked, beginning at 5 a.m. at the downtown Salt Lake City kitchen by workers in the Salvation Army's Adult Rehabilitation Program. That's in addition

All told, by midday Thursday, cooks in the rehab program had racked up an impressive set of holiday numbers: For the week, a crew of about a dozen men had cooked 400 pounds of potatoes, 250 pounds of sweet potatoes, 70 pounds of stuffing and 100 pounds of green beans, according to Mike Black, the rehab program's kitchen manager.

Through the Christmas season, that tally will hit 10,000 pounds of meat, served through the Salvation Army's community dining room.

Those numbers sound impressive, as they represent the countless number of Utahns who annually volunteer and donate food to the less fortunate. Tallies of holiday service might seem time-worn, but remain particularly relevant this holiday season, during a jobless recession that has dramatically increased the need. This year's requests for meal delivery were up by about 100 over last year, Grimm said.

But another number recounted on Thursday morning -- 400 days -- seemed just as important of a milestone. That's the days of sobriety claimed by Michael, 34, of Salt Lake City, after 16 years of addiction.

After 5½ months in the rehab program, Michael said he was grateful to have choices. This morning, for instance, instead of attending a meal at his grandparents in Ogden, he chose to debone turkeys, mix up stuffing, mash potatoes, cook green beans and smooth lumps out of gravy.

"It feels good to give back, something positive," Michael said, standing in a hallway, watching the Cline-Paxton family crack wise, practice two-handed dishing-up skills and occasionally breaking into song (one example: "Patience" by Guns 'n' Roses). Down at the end of the line, too far away to see, past the serving dishes of sweet potatoes and slices of pie, young Madison Thomas, 6, representing the third generation of the family, passed out milk cartons.

Michael added: "There's a lot that I owe. "Another kitchen helper, Greg, 26, of Lehi, recounted the complicated childhood that eventually led to his13-year-drug addiction. After his own stint in jail, he was court-ordered to attend the Salvation Army's rehab program. The first month was bad, he admits, due to his own resentment.

But six months later, he has graduated, an accomplishment marked by the Thanksgiving eve ceremony, accompanied by the meal he and his rehab friends had cooked. "It's one of the biggest things I've ever accomplished," said Greg, adding that the feeling of making amends with his father at his rehab graduation was still fresh. On a holiday, sometimes the numbers aren't the only thing that counts.

ellenf@sltrib.com