Chicagoland

Port Ministries celebrates 25 years of little miracles

By Daniel P. Smith | Contributor
Sunday, May 23, 2010

There was no fancy business plan. No venture capitalists or legalese. Only a vision and an unwavering trust in God. When Father Augustin “Gus” Milon, a then-40-year-old Franciscan priest, founded “The Port” in 1985, a 25-year saga began. The once-slapdash soup kitchen has grown into one of the Chicago area’s most well-established and dedicated social agencies.

On May 21 at the Oak Lawn Hilton, Port Ministries held its 25th Jubilee, a celebration of the South Side organization’s roots, spirit and future prospects. The evening’s festivities honored the organization’s history and longevity as well as its little miracles and changed lives.

The Port’s origins

In 1984, Father Gus, as he was known to all, directed prayer on streets throughout Chicago’s Back of the Yards neighborhood, a hardscrabble piece of the city’s urban pie. Inspired to create a soup kitchen, Father Gus and a small group of colleagues secured a spot at 5058 S. Ashland Ave. Naming it “The Port,” a nod to the Assisi, Italy-based church where St. Francis began his Gospel response, a mission began.

On May 26, 1985, The Port opened its soup kitchen, serving 37 people. By late 1986, The Port was serving nearly 400 people daily. Routinely, Father Gus and his expanding collection of volunteers wondered where they would get the food to serve the swelling numbers in need. At times, they begged; at others, they pleaded; always, they prayed.

“Our ministry is based solely on prayer. Ask the Lord to provide and he will,” said executive director David Krug, who began at Port as a reluctant volunteer in October 1985.

Over and over, little miracles have happened. Absent food and with a growing line outside their door, Port workers would pray. More often than not, prayers would be answered. Krug said Port would sometimes spend no more than $200 annually on food.

“We’ve had everything from a donation of 500 pounds of boiled ham to various Boy Scouts who’ve held food drives,” he said. “God’s blessed us with so many kind souls and answered prayers.”

Not long after opening its soup kitchen, Father Gus began establishing deeper roots in the community. He added a secular franciscan fraternity in 1985, a ministry program for neighborhood shut-ins in 1986 and a staff and guest residence in 1987.

Evolving needs

From its modest origins as a soup kitchen, “The Port” has evolved into Port Ministries, a multi-faceted ministry whose work has remained vital for a Chicago neighborhood that has witnessed the closing of Catholic parishes and suffered from urban blight.

Over the last two decades, Port Ministries has grown to include The Mantle, a facility offering supplemental education for adults and children; The Bread Truck, a soup kitchen on wheels that serves up to 300 a night; a recreation facility for children called Tony’s Gym; an administrative center; and the Port Free Clinic, which provides basic medical services to nearly 1,200 poor and uninsured.

In 2004, Father Gus took what was to be a one-year sabbatical; doctors soon discovered cancer and The Port’s energetic leader never returned. Father Gus passed away on April 11, 2008.

“Father Gus said to us, ‘You know my vision, you know my dreams, so do it. Continue to march and I’ll pray,’” Krug said.

The march continues — as does the prayer.

A sign on the original soup kitchen door read “A Place of Prayer and Hope.” For 25 years, that’s precisely what Port Ministries has been.

John Biegel, Port Ministries’ current volunteer coordinator, began volunteering in 1987. Seven years later and on the heels of a divorce, Biegel left his job, sold many of his possessions and moved into The Port’s Secular Franciscan community. The mission’s Christ-centeredness, he said, distinguishes it from being “another social agency” and has provided clarity on his own faith as well as an enlivened sense of compassion and empathy, specifically for the poor.

“As I began to touch and serve the poor myself, I felt I was touching Jesus and something important inside myself,” Biegel said. “There’s very little that attracts anyone to this area, and yet people come here because it’s a special place where so many serve and uplift.”

Dorothy Balicki of Highland, Ind., has volunteered with Port’s home visitation program six hours every Thursday for the last 24 years, work which has helped her address life’s challenge and appreciate her own journey.

“My life has been a joy because of Port,” she said. “It’s a gift that the Lord has given me.”

On his first day as a volunteer in 1985, Krug entered with little interest or concern, considering The Port’s visitors unmotivated, handoutseeking souls. Quickly, his heart shifted.

Twenty-five years later, it remains in motion.

“This place has built my own faith and changed the lives of countless others,” he said. “Now, we move forward because there’s still so much to be done.”

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