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The boy holds a bucket. He seeks help for his church. He offers a piece of candy in exchange for money. "Our church burned in a fire," he says.
It's 3 p.m. on a late July Wednesday. A hazy sky presses down on 63rd Street and Swope Parkway. The temperature hovers around 100 degrees.
The boy with the vest and the sad story is part of a crew. Teenagers mainly, they approach cars and trucks halted at the traffic lights. The young boy says the church is named New Higher Ground. Another member of the donation team, a lanky teenage boy, confirms the name and provides an address: 1300 Bennington Avenue. "They're rebuilding," he says.
Asked who's in charge, the teenager points to a heavyset woman sitting on a beverage cooler on the median strip. Her braids are streaked with fuchsia. A spiral notebook and a calculator with oversized buttons rest on the upturned white bucket she uses for a desk.
"This is our new candy," she explains, nodding at boxes of Airheads taffy stacked next to a tree. "We had some licorice rolls. We've done Pixy Stix."
The woman says the children raise money for the church from 11 a.m. to 6 p.m. at least three days a week. (School is not yet in session.) As she describes the routine, a teenage member of the crew bangs a fallen limb against a tree.
The woman's phone rings. She answers. She tells the person on the phone that a reporter is asking questions.
The phone conversation ends. It was the pastor who called, the woman explains. He will answer any further questions the reporter may have.
The woman says the pastor's name is C.L. White Sr.
Carva Lee White used to preach at a church at 1300 Bennington. But the church was not touched by fire. White's ministry was interrupted instead by his prison sentence on a bank-fraud charge.
Released from the U.S. Penitentiary in Leavenworth in 2002, White tried but was not able to sustain the church on Bennington. So he moved New Higher Ground to Springfield, where he decided that his ministry should also shelter the homeless. But White never applied for the necessary permits. A building inspector ordered an eviction.
In 2005, White relocated to Aurora, Missouri. His church convened in a barn, which was destroyed in a fire while White and his followers ate dinner at a Kentucky Fried Chicken.
White returned to Kansas City, where he continues to perform the role of preacher. On Sunday mornings, the sound of worship spills from White's service onto the street.
Incarceration, government intrusion, flames none have kept Carva White from finding a pulpit. It's as if he had angels on his side.
But upon closer inspection, White seems less touched by heaven and more wise in the ways of the street.
Busy streets, to be precise.
The sight of bucket-toting children darting into traffic at 63rd Street and Swope Parkway bothered Denise Phillips on a couple of levels.
First, the activity looked highly dangerous. Phillips watched the action and remembered reading about the 6-year-old boy who was killed in July while attempting to cross Linwood Boulevard. The newspaper said the boy was walking to a relative's house.
In addition to her safety concerns, Phillips, the director of partnerships at the Kansas City Parks and Recreation Department, was saddened to see children participate in what amounted to organized panhandling near the entrance to Swope Park. "Kids should be going to the park to play," she says.
Phillips reported the fund-raising activity to police when she saw it taking place. City code prohibits standing on streets or highways in order to solicit contributions. But enforcement is lax. Typically, police respond only to complaints, and the offending party receives only a warning. Phillips says the children would return a few days after being ordered to disperse.
Phillips continued to press the issue. She talked about her concerns at a July meeting of the Parks Board. Her safety warnings proved to be prescient.
On August 2, the driver of a Ford Probe struck a 29-year-old man who was raising money at Winner Road and Interstate 435. The man was soliciting for Kansas City Restoration Church, a ministry at 12th Street and Belmont that targets drug addicts, gang members and prostitutes. KMBC Channel 9 reported that the man was carried 50 feet after landing on the roof of the Probe.
The collision did not serve as a deterrent. On Labor Day weekend, firefighters were out, boots in hand, collecting money for the Muscular Dystrophy Association.
Raising money in traffic is an established practice in Kansas City. Every April, hundreds of dignitaries and volunteers celebrate Greater Kansas City Day by hitting the pavement and selling special editions of The Kansas City Star. The money benefits the Kansas City Rotary Youth Camp and other kids' charities.
But in addition to Rotarians and hunky firemen helping out Jerry's kids, less scrupulous parties also descend on street corners. Aspects of drive-by fund-raising a captive audience turned over quickly by changing signals appeal to the cause that needs quick cash with few questions asked.