Utah would be a much better place to live if Pamela Atkinson were, as she described herself, “an ordinary person.”
That would mean that her decades of efforts to assist the poor, to help children, to reach out to the homeless and give them, if nothing else, a feeling of acceptance and worth, would be normal, seen in every community and on every street corner.
The fact that Atkinson was a standout leader in those efforts in Salt Lake City and beyond meant she clearly was not ordinary.
Atkinson, who died this week at the age of 93, did more than advocate for the unfortunate in the halls of power. Though she did that, too, claiming the ear of governors and mayors and Utah’s philanthropic community.
She talked the talk to the rich and powerful, and walked the walk among the poor.
She was often seen out in the streets, in the parks, in the early morning, in the Utah cold, delivering food, warm clothes, a line on a place to stay, and, perhaps most important, the message that no matter how down and out someone might be, they are a human being, deserving of dignity.
No judgement. No blame. Not of the homeless. Not of the government agencies and individuals who (she must have felt) were not doing enough to help the homeless. Just a quiet, indefatigable effort to make sure that the homeless were seen. That they did not become invisible or someone else’s problem.
Unfairness made her angry, she said, which led her to believe that, rather than just stew in her own emotions, she should get up and do something.
Having her name lent to various facilities and programs that help the homeless did help humanize the situation. Atkinson’s name was rightly attached to a clinic serving the homeless, a homeless resource center and an apartment complex with support services for people who had been experiencing homelessness.
She is also the namesake of the state’s Pamela Atkinson Trust Fund, a source of revenue for housing and emergency services. Utah taxpayers may contribute to it through a line on their state income tax forms or by rounding up their purchases at a state liquor store.
Atkinson grew up in poverty in London, moved to America, trained as a nurse and held various leadership roles at Utah’s Intermountain Healthcare, largely in outreach to those in need.
She didn’t merely call attention to the problem, she paid attention to the people who most needed it, face to face and heart to heart.
There are many others in our community who, still, work every day to help the poor, the addicted, the abandoned. But there was something about seeing Pamela Atkinson at work that made the issue real.
The only bad thing about her ministry might have been that some of us, including public officials, might have felt, “Well, it’s too bad about all those homeless people, but Pamela is taking care of it.”
She did what she could. The rest of us should remember those efforts, emulate her kindness and advocacy and continue her work.
Editorials represent the opinions of The Salt Lake Tribune editorial board, which operates independently from the newsroom.