Faith Works 9-27-24

Faith Works 9-27-24
Jeff Gill

Taking chances, seeing a longer-term upside
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Tom Chapman died a few weeks ago, at the age of 82.

He had lost his wife Vicki back in 2015; his son Chad and brother Bob had helped manage his care in these last few years; as I'd turned to caring for family members myself, I'd lost track of him. It was good, at least, to thank them at Tom's calling for their care.

Tom Chapman had cared for his community in an interesting assortment of ways over the years. He may have been best known as the owner and operator of a collection agency in Newark, which brought him into contact with everyone from bankers to the bankrupt, and everyone in between.

Not many ministers get to know collection agents, and that's probably an oversight. I've had parishioners who worked for some of the online bill collection companies here in the area, but Tom was the only "go and knock on doors" collections person I've had the chance to talk to at length.

This association came about because Tom was the very first landlord of the Licking County Coalition for Housing in 1992 as we were getting off the ground. He rented us four apartments for transitional housing use, well before LCCH had HUD grants or other major programmatic supports. We were a patchwork of memorandums of understanding between agencies, and a handful of donations from Church Women United and a few cooperating churches in the area. Jana Lowe was a part-time director with each paycheck a hope and a promise to be renewed each month.

Basically, our birthday organizationally was the day after Tom's memorial service; on Sept. 23, 1992 our incorporation was processed by then-Secretary of State Bob Taft, and we signed a rental agreement with Tom Chapman for four units above his collection agency. Other landlords had looked us over and said "ah, no thank you" but Tom said yes.

Even so, the whole operation was shaky, and Deb Tegtmeyer, who would not become our first full-time executive director for a few years yet, stood with me on a snowy November evening as we filled the first three of our four units, using up most of the housewares and bedding we'd collected over the previous few weeks. It all felt very uncertain.

Then Tom pulled up, in a station wagon. He got out, our new landlord, but still an uncertain quantity in this whole variable filled formula, and looked at us with a note of concern on his face. Then he said "I have four frozen turkeys in my back seat, plus four bags of groceries that I thought would be right for Thanksgiving; should I take them up to the residents, or would it be more appropriate for me to have you give them?"

Deb and I looked at each other, and we both knew: this crazy idea might just work. Because Tom Chapman believed in what we were doing.

LCCH has grown beyond four units; we do much more than just transitional housing, and I think our best work is what Tom always hoped we'd be able to do more of, which is helping prevent homelessness before an eviction or other action was taken. Through the next thirty years, Tom helped us in many, many ways, including helping us get funds gathered for unexpected needs which are an ongoing memorial for Vicki and now, of course, for him.

Tom Chapman took a chance, because he knew all too well how much some people needed second chances, and he wanted to be a part of extending them. He couldn't do it alone, and we couldn't have done what we've done without him (and others like him).

Rest easy, Tom. The work and the second (and third) chances will continue.


Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he's glad to have known Tom Chapman. Tell him about your unsung hero at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack77 on Threads.