Dear Club Members, Sponsors and Friends,

One of my favorite pastimes is driving my 911 from home in Washington down Route 202 and Route 7 to Brookfield and looping back through Bridgewater and Roxbury on scenic, curving roads. I particularly enjoy doing so at first light, but any time of the day is fine. My wife, Christine sometimes joins me. Past drives together are among my most cherished memories.

On one of my drives last year, the traffic slowed down uncharacteristically on Route 7 in the southern part of New Milford. At first, I thought the slowdown was caused by cars entering a local flea market that draws hundreds of cars every week during warm-weather months. As I drove on, I saw that the flea market was closed. I then noticed that many cars were turning into a nearby church parking lot. They serpentined through the entire, vast lot. There were so many cars that the line almost blocked the road. Approximately 250 cars were there, and more were arriving.

I was crestfallen to learn of the plight of the people in the cars. They were in desperate need of food. The church was dispensing it for free, helping anyone who arrived. Not far from the church, volunteers at a well-established food bank handed out the daily allotment of 300 meals in 20 minutes. This was eight months ago. COVID-19 had arrived and its tentacles were already devastating the health, employment and finances of our neighbors. Since then, matters have become worse. More than 400,000 residents of Connecticut are currently suffering from hunger; many more are struggling with food insecurity. People of all ages are in distress.