By Nick Twietmeyer

In the basement of St. Luke’s Episcopal Church on Thursdays and Fridays, you can find a woman by the name of Nancy Rogers, a woman who has been volunteering to feed the homeless for the past 27 years.

Quietly referred to by her fellow volunteers as St. Nancy, Rogers arrives around 6:30 a.m. to begin preparing meals for the hungry in the large kitchen space below the church. Soon the smells of a savory meatloaf lunch wafts and steamed potatoes fog the windows in front of the sink.

Alongside several other volunteers, Rogers makes breakfasts and a lunch for the homeless and hungry as well as anyone who wants to stop in for a hearty meal.

In the kitchen, Rogers is a white-haired blur. One moment she’s cleaning the large stainless steel serving trays and the next she’s finding rubber bands to help a guest repair the binder containing copies of “Real Change” he’ll be selling. If you blink, she’s gone, tending to another task. “Ants-in-the-pants-Nancy,” which her brother named her at an early age, moves at a pace that leaves most standing still.

“She works me to death,”; says Robert Loomis, a fellow volunteer and member of Ballard's homeless community. Loomis is a sturdily built North Carolinian transplant who looks like he can handle himself if needed. “Oh poor Robert,” mocks Rogers with a smile.

Where does she get her energy? “Well, I pray a lot,” Rogers says simply.

A devout Catholic, Rogers finds strength in her worship of the Almighty and her passion for helping those in need. “This is my church home, she says. “I wish I could do more than feed them.”

What started some 27 years ago as a prayer group of seven women, including Rogers, has turned into a vital resource for Ballard’s homeless. In 2015 St. Luke’s Episcopalian Church received and prepared at least 33,000 pounds of food from Food Lifeline alone. The church also maintains a garden on their grounds, which is one source of the produce served to the hungry guests Monday through Friday at the 7 a.m. for breakfast, as well as Friday lunch.

Rogers admits that she occasionally has had to miss a breakfast or a lunch, quickly adding: “Not many, though.” Her husband, Fred, requires constant care due to a stroke. She arranges for a caretaker for him when she’s volunteering at the church. When she finishes her work at the church, Rogers doesn’t dawdle. She is right out the door, bound back home to care for her husband.

“This is my passion,” she says, puzzled because the response to the why-do-you-do-this question is so obvious. People are homeless. “I guess I wouldn't be doing it at 83 if it wasn't,” she says. The volunteers who work alongside Rogers respect her leadership in the kitchen, as well as her importance to the members of the homeless community.

“I do everything Nancy asks me to” says Sylvia Li, a fellow volunteer at St. Luke’s. This could mean checking the refrigerator, checking guest numbers or even rearranging the small arrangement of fresh-picked flowers brought by a young homeless man named Zach and now sitting on the fireplace mantle.

Rogers’ delicate kindness is matched by her air of authority. “Smutty language” anywhere around her? According to Rev. Canon Britt Olson, Rogers recently had to scold some guests. The entire meal hall fell quiet, heads bowed in shame for drawing the scorn of St. Nancy.

“I want to make everybody feel that no matter what they come in with, no matter the garbage that goes on in everybody’s lives, that they’re still a valued person,” says Rogers after thanking Zach for blessing the volunteers with the bouquet. “That would be my one thing I want to show them, that they’re valued and they have a purpose and they’re loved.”