A Hybrid Hoedown for Homeless

“It’s a little weird singin’ in the afternoon,” Kris Kristofferson told the crowd at the Crazy Horse Steak House on Saturday. “Feels like hollerin’ in church.”

The plaid-clad congregation gathered in the Santa Ana nightclub did its share of whooping and hollering too--even when Kristofferson, a lefty from way back, sang the praises of Jesse Jackson.

Right here in Orange County. For a group of developers . It was a little weird.

The Crazy Horse “Hoedown,” as it was billed, raised $40,000 for HomeAid, a nonprofit program established by the local chapter of the Building Industry Assn.

HomeAid was founded a year ago to build or rehabilitate temporary housing for a local homeless population estimated at 8,000 to 10,000. In completing five projects since July, 1989, the group has added 140 beds to the county’s shelters.

“That may not sound significant when you compare it to the number of homeless,” HomeAid chairman Bob Albertson told the 200 guests who paid $150 each to attend the benefit concert.

“But those beds will be used by hundreds of people each year,” Albertson said. “These are mainly working people, mainly families. We want to help them with a place to stay so they can save up some money and get back into mainstream housing.”

The event began at lunchtime, when guests left the harsh sunlight and sweltering heat for the cool darkness inside the club.

Taking assigned seats at booths on the room’s perimeter and tables filling the rest of the club (including the dance floor), guests wielded their free drink tickets and dug into platefuls of barbecued chicken and ribs, corn on the cob, coleslaw and sourdough rolls--a hearty lunch donated by club owner Fred Reiser.

Sartorially, the group took the hoedown theme to heart.

In a sea of jeans and fringe and bolo ties, Tim Galvin went that extra country mile, adding a flashy silver belt and a red bandanna around his neck.

“I left my pistol in the car,” joked Galvin, a HomeAid executive committee member. He sat with Dean Hesketh, Joanie Dixon and Nancy Hopcraft.

Kathey and Mike Schlesinger topped their C&W; outfits with white straw hats. “We’re frustrated cowboys,” admitted Kathey. Sue and Wyatt Hart shared a table with the Schlesingers.

Victoria and Bill Weaver wore bad-guy black from their felt hats to their pointy-toed boots. Seated with the Weavers were Bill Martin and Bruce Abbey, who headed a group of HomeAid volunteers that worked on a shelter in Fullerton.

When the plates were cleared, brief speeches were made by Albertson, event chairwoman Julie Brinkerhoff, HomeAid board member Bart Hansen and Christine Reed, head of the local chapter of the Building Industry Assn., a trade organization.

Kristofferson--who donated his appearance at the benefit--led his seven-man band through a 90-minute set that mixed newer, more political songs with his hits of years gone by.

In one of the few times he talked to the audience between songs, Kristofferson raised his right arm over his head and silenced the band.

“I just wanted to say something,” he said, looking around the club. “It seems anymore you can’t divide people by political parties . . . or anything like that. There’s just people who care about other people, and people who don’t.

“Y’all care about people, and that’s why I’m here.”