Ubiñas: A place for Philly's homeless to get mail

EDD CONBOY scrolls through the pictures in his cellphone until he comes to one that makes him tear up.

In the photo, a man bundled up in a puffy winter coat and knit hat triumphantly holds up a piece of mail.

"I still remember the tears in Dennis' eyes as he held up the first letter he ever received as a free man, without an inmate number after his name," Conboy said, choking up.

Conboy is the director of social services at Broad Street Ministry, a behemoth of a church on Broad Street near Locust where each week thousands of homeless Philadelphians can grab a meal and their mail.

Conboy hasn't seen Dennis, the man in the picture, in several months. But even if the photo weren't stored in Conboy's cracked iPhone, the moment is etched forever in his mind.

Dennis was released from prison one morning after 41 years behind bars. That afternoon he was at BSM after someone handed him a SEPTA token and a piece of paper with the ministry's address on it.

They helped with food, clothing, shelter and a much-needed mailing address, 315 S. Broad St. Last year, 2,600 men and women received 52,000 pieces of mail at BSM, including identification cards needed for housing, employment and other benefits.

A few months ago, I read a story in the New York Times about an NYC post office where homeless people get their mail. The story about how people who slept in shelters and sidewalks all over the city gravitated to the general-delivery window of the city's main post office on 9th Avenue struck me. A piece of mail, something that those of us with homes take for granted. But just one more thing that those without a home have to do without. I wondered if Philadelphia had a similar setup for the homeless.

I not only discovered the Broad Street Ministry, I found out they even have a postmaster general, Brittany Mellinger.

But that's where the similarities to New York ended.

Instead of an impersonal window, there was a long table where several volunteers cheerfully handed out mail from several black filing cabinets behind them.

Instead of quickly grabbing their mail and leaving, the men and women lingered to chat with volunteers, and with one another.

Soon enough, a casual conversation about the weather or something equally inconsequential turned into one about permanent housing or a rehab program or a subtle reminder not to miss a court date.

And that, said the Rev. Bill Golderer, is all by design.

"We're not about transactions, we're about connections," he said.

Golderer happened to be in New York when I asked about the post office. Just to be sure New York wasn't on to something better, he stopped by to check it out.

It was a fine setup. It just wasn't how BSM does things. As with most things at BSM, Conboy and Mellinger said, while quoting a favorite phrase of Golderer's: "It's never about what it's about."

It's not about the hot meal served at tables with linen tablecloths, toiletries ordered through a discreet order form, a piece of mail handed over with a smile - it's about relationships.

I liked what New York was doing after reading that Times article. I loved what Philly does more after visiting BSM.

On a recent morning, at least half an hour before the doors opened, there were about 20 men lined up outside the church. James Hendel, who like Dennis came to BSM after being released from prison, said he's eagerly gone about changing a lot in his life. He's working on getting permanent housing. He's started a business with a friend.

But one thing he didn't seem to be in a rush to change is the address on his identification card. He dug into his wallet to show me, 315 S. Broad St.

"This felt like home when I had nowhere else to go," he said. "It will always feel like home."

Phone: 215-854-5943

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