Prologue

Overcoming Poverty: Equipping People for Self-reliance

He gave up an NFL pension

to help thousands leave welfare

Herbert Lusk, former Eagles running back

Rev. Herb Lusk

People for People

If you want to innovate, to change an enterprise or a society,

it takes people willing to do what's not expected.

- Jean Riboud

It's not unexpected that a preacher's son would go into the ministry. But when he gives up a successful pro football career to become a pastor for the poorest of the poor, that is unexpected. And that's exactly what Herb Lusk did. A lot of people called him crazy, especially when he quit the NFL one year prior to retirement eligibility. But he’d always had it in mind to do something for people other than wow them on the playing field. Today, his dream has become a reality. For over a decade, Herb's been giving the poor in North Central Philly a whole lot to cheer about. By quarterbacking a host of impressive strategies, he's made it into the big leagues of welfare reform. Despite occasional controversy, black and white communities alike have praised his successes. But he isn't resting on his laurels. Herb's got a few more plays under his belt and he won't be satisfied until he's had a chance to put them into action for more wins outside his successful North Central playing field.

After a childhood in upscale Monterey, California, Herb became an All American football jock at Long Beach State. One football Saturday, 30,000 people saw him throw a spectacular touchdown. At that moment, he says, he looked into the stands and a feeling came over him that he can only describe as “there's got to be something more to life than this … more substance.” That's when he knew that the game of football would play a secondary role in his life. When the Philadelphia Eagles drafted Herb, he even announced at the press conference that his intentions were to play only three seasons. Often remembered as the “praying running back” who knelt in the end zone after a touchdown, Herb kept his promise and quit the team after the third year. Had he played just one more season, he would have been eligible for a pension.

Holding true to his original goal of helping others, Herb made the decision to go back to school for his master of divinity degree. While in seminary, he became familiar with the neighborhood of North Central Philly when a friend played a practical joke on him, baiting him with, “I'd love to fill in and preach at this church on 4th Street, but I can't, and I was wondering if you'd go in my place.” Herb said he would, only to find himself facing a congregation of seven senior citizens. They, and eight buckets of water from the church's leaky ceiling, made up his Sunday morning worship experience. At the end of the service, one of the elderly parishioners came up to him and asked if he'd pastor the church. The building, a hundred-year-old structure, was dark and dingy and smelled of mildew. The congregation was $275,000 in debt and filing for bankruptcy. The ex-pro thought, “No way,” and bowed out gracefully.

A month later, the persistent deacon called back and asked him to reconsider. Even though the whole experience had begun with a practical joke, Herb wanted to feel good about himself and preached two more times at the old church. The final Sunday, when he walked from the church to his car, he gazed across the street at a long line of men in the Salvation Army soup line. Having grown up in the wealthy Big Sur area, he became depressed by anything having to do with the poor or the Salvation Army, so to escape, he turned at the first opportunity. That turn put him on Broad Street, right in the middle of the Richard Allen housing projects. The sight of the aimlessness there, the drug activity and young people with no hope gripped his heart. It was in that moment that a clear thought pierced his mind. It was as if God spoke to him, saying, “What better place to start work than in a place with so much need?” The muscular, bearded football player turned his car around and told the deacon, “I'll take it.”

That was 1981. Herb knew that he needed to take drastic measures to increase the congregation’s numbers. His first idea worked. He staged a Food, Fun, Follow Us Fellowship parade through the projects, and an impressive 250 neighbors showed up. He had only $200 to feed the entire group, but they were apparently satisfied because they returned to the church to attend services. The more difficult tasks were how to make the church’s debt payments and how to turn the historic church into something habitable. Eight years later, the church was totally transformed. The membership had risen to a thousand, the bills were paid, and the structure had been restored right down to new carpeting and painted artwork on the ceiling. But a clean church couldn't mask perpetual poverty. Herb grew weary of the welfare dependency and decided to take deliberate measures to transform the dependent attitudes of his congregation and other African-Americans in North Central Philly.

The next phase of his work began with the help of a few Eagles players and some community residents who provided funding and role models for the kids and their parents. As Herb added programs, he attracted more people to his cause. In 1989 People for People, Inc. was legally established as a separate arm of the Greater Exodus Baptist Church. With a ready bank of church volunteers, the pastor had the best of both worlds. He had people who needed help and, in the same community, people who were ready to offer time and commitment to their neighbors. Today, it's not only church members who benefit from the nonprofit's wide-range of programs. Two thirds of the 15,000 people helped annually now live outside the North Central neighborhood.

The smorgasbord of sponsored programs offered at People for People is remarkable. The focus is on helping the welfare-dependent to achieve financial self-sufficiency. To that end, a myriad of related services such as transportation and skills development are provided free. For some, filling the day-to-day needs met by the food and clothing program that now feeds and clothes hundreds a year, provides the essentials until jobs can be found. With the government's two-year deadline for drawing welfare, as a result of the 1996 Welfare Reform Act, some individuals no longer have an income. Providing necessities and training is a time-critical priority for those seeking independence.

Herb believes that Christ had many ministries, but that one of his key missions was to save the lost and help the poor. The pastor’s strategy for helping the poor also incorporates the government as a partner in the effort, though never specifying one method of financing over another. Since people are being helped, Herb doesn't see the government as the enemy as some do. Job readiness and placement, Microsoft Office training, and job retention skills are all paid for with a mix of federal, state, and local funds. Herb’s even hired a staff of grant writers who team up to complete the scores of forms necessary to qualify for government funding.

Despite its ties to the Baptist Church, People for People’s programs do not proselytize. However, when the trainers break at noontime, Herb does offer optional religious devotions. The free, non-mandatory, non-government-sponsored lunch for PFP students allows him to exercise within what he terms the “gray area.” If lunch isn't funded by Temporary Assistance for Needy Families (TANF) or another government program, the non-required prayer and spiritual time is in conformity with regulations. He works closely with his U.S. Senator, Rick Santorum and the senator’s community affairs staff to insure compliance. While he recognizes that some dependence on federal money may place the group's future autonomy in potential jeopardy, he's willing to take that risk for the sake of the needy.

Millions of dollars also flow from the State of Pennsylvania and the City of Philadelphia into the People for People welfare-to-work program. State contracts that provide training and jobs skills for over 300 participants are good for up to four years. Eventually 80 percent of those trained find jobs in companies like G.E. Capital, UPS, and Prudential. With state dollars, Herb provides the best computer equipment available. He believes that training the poor on old equipment shortchanges them and makes them less competitive in the workplace.

Given all of his successes at helping the African-American poor gain self-sufficiency, Herb has found himself on opposite sides of several political issues from the majority of the black community’s leaders. For example, he endorses President George W. Bush's Community and Faith-Based Initiative, believing it helps African-Americans escape welfare dependency. He also endorses the use of school vouchers to give black families a choice of education for their kids. While many African-Americans agree with him, the majority of the black community does not. Somewhat surprisingly, his stance on the use of government funds in a faith-based setting also places him at odds with many in the Christian community. Herb says that his focus is not on politics, but only on helping the people he serves. He's not overly concerned that his support of the current administration's programs makes him less popular with city politicos. And although he occasionally feels misunderstood, he views his work as politically insulated.

People for People doesn't rely solely on government funds to support its work. Its revenue portfolio relies on a mix of corporate donors, government grants, and individual contributors. When he played football for the Eagles, Herb made a point of never tossing away a business card. Those corporate contacts have since paid big dividends. The head coach of the Eagles and 2003 NFL Coach of the Year, Andy Reid, is the chairman of People for People’s annual fundraising auction and banquet. A devoted family man, Andy has committed to Herb that he will remain the chairman as long as he's coach. Herb's pro football connections have continued to expand throughout the news media, banking community, and corporate arena, helping to fuel new projects, including the People for People celebrity “best ball” golf tournament, the group's other annual fundraising event.

High finance has never overwhelmed the hard-working pastor. In fact, he’s always looking for new financial backing. When he needed $8 million to fund the purchase of the old Philadelphia Traffic Court Building to launch more programs, he quickly tracked down the money. One floor is reserved for the group’s banquet catering operation called The View, which doubles as a jobs program for neighborhood residents. In addition, the People for People training classrooms for those in its welfare-to-work program are housed at the site.

Herb is also a strong proponent of better schools for inner city children. In the new 60,000 square foot building, 700 North Central kids now receive a kindergarten to fifth grade quality education. With seven of ten inmates functionally illiterate and a significant number of those of African-American descent, the reverend sees a direct correlation between black crime and deteriorating educational standards. To discourage gangs and drugs, People for People’s school programs incorporate computer training for kids of all ages. A program called Power Up provides kids access to dozens of in-house, state-of-the-art computers and learning CDs.

Herb’s wife, Vickey, has always been a major player on Herb’s People for People team. She directs the summer reading and banking programs and the award-winning After-School and Friday-Saturday enrichment programs for kids. These youth programs teach the kids important life skills and are always adult supervised. Kids can also have fun at People for People with organized activities staffed by the group’s large volunteer pool while their parents are working or in school. For kids who have an incarcerated parent or who need a positive adult role model, the highly touted Amachi program assigns a caring adult to mentor the child.

Typically, dollars in the Asian community remain in that community, turning over an average of six times. But dollars spent by the black community seldom turn over even once. In a large-scale effort to retain community dollars and employ them to fuel neighborhood economic development, Herb negotiated for and established a charter for a federally-insured Community Development Credit Union. The credit union is housed in a 20,000 square foot facility, the Lusk Building, and is designed to encourage African-Americans to save something from a pay or benefit check. Community residents can open a savings account with as little as five dollars or take out a loan. Expenses are kept low, allowing credit union members to keep most of the net earnings and share dividends on combined investments. Banking with People for People automatically gives local residents a stake in their community’s growth and future while also teaching them to build a nest egg.

Today, People for People’s impressive initiatives have reached critical mass. With the church's membership now an impressive 2,000 and a 15-year successful track record of helping families to become financially self-sufficient, the visionary reverend believes that enough programs are in place that the nonprofit “will always grow.” So confident is Herb of that fact that plans for replicating the People for People model are now in progress. In fact, the first sites, three churches located in other Philadelphia neighborhoods, are in various stages of program development.

The achievements of People for People have been recognized by the press and leaders at the national level. But maybe nothing can match July 4, 2001. On that day, the street in front of headquarters was totally transformed. Festive decorations lined the walkways, making even the Salvation Army storefront cheery. And patriotic flags and signs welcomed President Bush to the North Central neighborhood. Kids from the Amachi program adorned the church's front steps as they looked forward to the president’s hour-long meet-and-greet session following his Independence Hall address. It was a memorable day for Herb. Thousands of spectators cheering him on in a football stadium couldn't compete with the feeling. The look of pride and accomplishment on the faces of both kids and parents made all the years of hard work worth it.

The president addressed the crowd, enumerated their successes, and named the People for People founder a “great American.” Afterward, having too much fun to leave, the President spent an additional hour tossing long football passes down the block to young athletes. The children yelled and screamed as they caught them and proud parents yelled and cheered from the curbs. How could one possibly miss the meaning and the parallel of that moment? The All-American who'd now been recognized as a “great American” was seeing his dream “of something more to life” come full-circle.

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