Empty Bags of Thanks : Volunteers at Food Bank Likely to Quit Over Loss of Groceries

In the cavernous warehouse of the Los Angeles Regional Foodbank, Sophia Ceja sorted jars of applesauce, boxes of juice and checker-labeled cans of tomato puree on a recent morning, looking for signs of spoilage.

The 40-year-old mother of eight worked rapidly, moving food from one box to another, a routine she has performed on most weekdays for the last six years. And after eight hours, as usual, she took home two free bags of groceries to help feed her family.

In a few months, however, Ceja and dozens of other volunteers--most of them poor--will no longer receive free bags of food and are likely to stop donating their time to the food bank.

Without the volunteers, food bank operations will be placed in jeopardy, said Doris Bloch, executive director of the Los Angeles Regional Foodbank.

“These people count on this food,” Bloch said. “This is not something they do to keep themselves busy.”

“Thank-you bags” for volunteers will soon be prohibited under a new policy imposed by Second Harvest National Foodbank Network, the organization that solicits contributions from major food companies and distributes products among 180 member food banks--among them Los Angeles.

The new rule, instituted to avoid possible tax- and labor-law problems, throws the future of the Los Angeles operation into doubt. The 30 to 40 weekly volunteers are critical because they make up half of the work force, Bloch said.

The Los Angeles food bank is the largest in the country and distributes enough food for 250,000 people weekly at 600 shelters, church pantries, child-care and crisis centers in Los Angeles County.

Traditionally, its volunteers have been allowed to fill bags with four pounds of food for each hour they worked at the food bank’s warehouse, located in an industrial area southeast of downtown. Most volunteers live in the area, Bloch said, and she believes their numbers grew by “word of mouth: ‘Go here, do work and you’ll get food.’ ”

It is difficult and unglamorous work. Volunteers spend their days in the sprawling warehouse culling spoiled tomatoes, broken glass and damaged cans from shipments sent by supermarkets or manufacturers. Then they sort and stack the food.

“This is most of the food we eat,” said Ceja, who lives near the facility. The food is particularly important now because her husband, a butcher, is unemployed.

Second Harvest has given member banks until March 1 to comply with the new regulation. Spokeswoman Christine Ott said a food bank task force studying the issue had pointed out that Internal Revenue Service regulations do not allow gifts of donated goods, such as the thank-you bags, if people must work to get them.

Ott said the IRS had not challenged the food banks’ practices, but a volunteer did sue a member food bank--not the Los Angeles facility--about two years ago, charging that the food given was inadequate compensation. “That brought it to our attention,” Ott said. She said she did not know where that bank was or how the case was resolved.

At the Los Angeles office of the IRS, spokeswoman Jan Gribbon would not say if any complaints had been raised about the local food bank’s practice.

“It could be they are trying to avoid a problem in advance,” she said. She added that the agency is always concerned about payments made with products instead of salaries, which would be subject to taxes.

In addition to wanting to comply with IRS regulations, Second Harvest officials said the practice may send the wrong message to those who donate food. “It threatens the whole network if we are perceived as bartering,” Ott said.

She also said needy volunteers should go to the member agencies that receive food from the food bank to get food.

That leaves Bloch “caught in the switch,” as she put it, not being allowed to offer the prime incentive that attracts her volunteers.

“It’s put us in a very difficult situation,” she said.

The food bank’s $2.2-million budget is already stretched and, considering that the volunteers worked 48,000 hours last year, it would be impossible to pay them the $4.25 hourly minimum wage, she said. So far, she has not devised a plan to deal with the situation, except to try to recruit more, and presumably wealthier, volunteers, or to persuade agencies receiving food to send their volunteers.

Some volunteers such as Ceja said they would still help once the new rule takes effect, but not as often. Instead of five days, Ceja said, “I would come one day.”

Bloch said she hopes that is true but doubts that the majority will come back at all.

“If they don’t want to come back, I don’t blame them,” she said.