The scents filled the kitchen, sage mixing with thyme and tarragon.
A half-dozen people breathed in that air Friday morning. Then they picked up handfuls of herbs, which were stacked on an island in a Coronado home, and tied the leaves with strings.
They made a dozen bundles. Then two dozen. Then three.
“We’re down to the last eight or so,” said Rick Shaughnessy, “So you can really blow it up.”
The group was part of a small army of volunteers preparing food for hundreds at a school just across the Bay.
Monarch, in Barrio Logan, serves kids with precarious housing, from kindergartners who may be living in motels to couch surfing high schoolers.
Saturday will be the school’s 19th annual Thanksgiving meal and the first without one of the original organizers, who died suddenly this year.
Rick Shaughnessy smells a bundle of herbs in Coronado.
(Alejandro Tamayo / The San Diego Union-Tribune)
Leaders described the gathering as an integral tradition amid a growing homelessness crisis.
Zaira Martinez vividly remembers her first Thanksgiving at Monarch.
She’d enrolled in 2011 as a sophomore, not long after fleeing a home in Descanso with her mom and brothers.
The family was hiding from her stepdad, Martinez recently recalled. He was constantly threatening to deport her mom, who at the time was not an American citizen, so they moved to a domestic violence shelter downtown.
But the stepdad tracked them there, she said. The family moved again.
Martinez wasn’t expecting much when she began classes at her new school. Then they all sat down later that semester for a catered meal.
“It was one of the first times where I felt that my mom and my family were not on edge,” she said. “Even the air felt lighter.”
Martinez now works at Monarch as their volunteer and community outreach coordinator. One of her colleagues, Jesus “Chuy” Nuñez, estimated that at least 200 children and their relatives would participate this weekend.
There will be a petting zoo, face painting, ring toss and live music, which should all add up to something as nice as a wedding, one organizer said.
The event began by chance.
Sussie Owen ties together a bundle of herbs in Coronado.
(Alejandro Tamayo / The San Diego Union-Tribune)
In 2005, an SDSU student named Alli Jo Houck was on the trolley and struck up a conversation with some nearby kids. One boy matter-of-factly told her he was homeless, Houck said in a phone interview.
She was taken aback. Houck had never considered that children might be on the streets.
When they got off, Houck followed them into Monarch, which was then in Little Italy, and met the school’s principal.
Houck asked if she could volunteer for any upcoming Thanksgiving festivities. The principal said there wasn’t much planned, but that Houck was welcome to organize something herself.
One of the first people she talked with was Brian Hamilton, a fellow student. He helped rally fraternities and sororities to make turkeys, Houck said, and First Presbyterian Church downtown offered its kitchen.
The meal has since grown.
The Junior League of San Diego, Centerplate catering and the Omni Hotel have donated food. This year they’re getting Rady Shell vegetables, KFC’s mashed potatoes, rolls from The Crack Shack — the list goes on. Houck helped start an organization, Project Connect, that oversees the 120 or so volunteers expected to chip in.
Volunteers Bob Oakley, Rick Shaughnessy, Sussie Owen and Jim Ruzevick collect herbs in Coronado to prepare for a Thanksgiving meal at Monarch, a school in Barrio Logan for homeless kids.
(Alejandro Tamayo / The San Diego Union-Tribune)
Yet Hamilton will be missing. He had a heart attack in January at 38 years old, leaving behind a wife and three young daughters.
“It’s been a huge loss,” Houck said.
Monarch planted an apple tree on campus in his honor.
In Coronado Friday, the last bundle was tied with a string and placed in a tray. The herbs were headed for ovens around the neighborhood set to cook more than 50 turkeys.
The group discussed logistics. Turkeys not thawing fast enough? Scrape off the ice. Not sure if the meat was fully cooked? Call an organizer and they’d come check temperatures.
“Should I go cut some rosemary?” asked Bette Ruzevick, whose home they were in.
“We’re fine,” said Susie Owen.
Someone lined up the overflowing trays. Up close, the bundles looked like wedding bouquets.
