(Editor’s Note: Georgia Bulletin Staff Writer Mary Lackie spent the day recently with a collection crew of the St. Vincent de Paul Society. What follows is an account of that day’s activities.)

By Mary Lackie

She was standing near the door to the paneled amusement room. “Perhaps a pool table isn’t quite the right thing to be donating to a religious organization,” she said.

“Thank you ma’am. We can load it on the truck.’

The St. Vincent de Paul Society takes just about anything it can load on the truck, including reporters. We left the store at 444 Edgewood Ave. one morning last week. The truck bounced over the mud road through the back lot and headed for the expressway. Charlie (Beau) Bridges was driving and Sean Flanagan was reading the clipboard with the lists of addresses and information.

“Pick up freezer,” said Sean.

The freezer was in the kitchen. “Be careful, now, it’s dripping. There’s nothing the matter with it—just the door handle. The door handle is off—we put it inside the freezer. Now be careful, don’t let it drip on the carpet.’

“Thank you, ma’am,” said Sean.

The freezer was loaded on the dolly and rattled down the walk past the Camellia bushes.

“I’m ashamed to have you see this room in such a mess,’ said the woman at the next stop. “We’re right in the middle of remodeling-painters, wallpaper hangers, decorators. All my friends told me I would go out of my mind remodeling, and they were so right. There’s nothing worse.” The maid handed her a cup of hot coffee.

“Thank you ma’am,” said Sean. He and Beau carried the dryer up the 19 steps and came back for trunks and curtains and boxes of books.

“They are lovely priscilla curtains,” the woman said. “They just need to be washed and ironed.’

“Thank you ma’am,” said Sean.

At the next stop in Northwest Atlanta Sean and Beau stood looking at a pull-down ladder to the attic. “There’s a nice chest up there,’ the woman said, “it does not need painting, but it has good wood in it.’ The men went up to look at the chest. Sean picked it up, balancing on the boards between the insulation. “Ohh,” he said, “lift up a little there, Beau, I think this end landed on my foot.”

The bed was in the basement. “Don’t’ forget that,’ the woman said. “I don’t know where the slats are, and you might have to fix the headboard. It’s split. I guess the wood just dried out.”

‘Thank you ma’am.”

The reporter was hungry. “Isn’t it time to eat? Isn’t it cold in the truck! Aren’t you freezing?”

“Women,” said Sean. The drivers don’t stop for lunch. They go to the warehouse to unload appliances. A station wagon is parked in the loading zone. The name on the brief case in the front seat said, “John Truelove.”

“We can’t wait for him to get back, and we can’t park in the alley” Sean said. The reporter was assigned to watching for John Truelove or a cop while the men unloaded appliances. The freezer leaves a trail of water on the sidewalk, then disappears into the warehouse.

“If nobody home come in second porch door and take just furniture next to door,’ read the cryptic directions on the clipboard. The furniture next to the door was a dresser, mirror, and rollaway bed.

“Look at the gorgeous tiffany shade over there!”

“It’s not near the door. Just the things near the door,” said Sean, “Now hop to it.” He left a note to tell the owner we had been there.

At 5;30 the truck pulled into the alley near the store. The couch with the clean slipcover was piled with coats in plastic bags. The bedpan and paint cans were in the carton on the kitchen sink at the back of the truck. The pottery dishes and china vases were wrapped in the box with the dusty peanuts.

Inside the store it was warm. Customers browsed through the clothes racks. Cowboy came in. “Hey, Cowboy! Have you seen you hi-fi?”

He laughed, “When you deliver it, put in some jazz records.’

“We’ll deliver it Friday,” Sean said.

Cowboy was in the parking lot when I left the store. “I certainly hope you will enjoy your hi-fi.”

He shook his head and grinned. “We were kiddin’ around ma’am. It’s no hi-fi. It’s a refrigerator. Just made my last payment on it, and the boys will deliver it Friday. It’s for my wife. Sure will be nice.”