I live in Knoxville, Tennessee, where the population has grown dramatically over the 25 years I've called it home. While this growth has brought new businesses, jobs, and investment, it has also created conditions that have contributed to a growing homeless population. Knoxville also sits at one of the busiest highway crossroads in the country, bringing a constant flow of people searching for opportunity. Our community has developed some outstanding programs and initiatives to support those experiencing homelessness, but the need still far exceeds the available resources.

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The inspiration for A Bag of Hope came from several personal, one-on-one experiences with people experiencing homelessness. Because Knoxville sees so much through-traffic, many people stand near highway entrance and exit ramps asking for help. One day, I was stopped at a traffic light with my car window rolled up, sitting just inches away from someone asking for assistance. In that moment, I realized a few things:

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1. Money alone isn't going to solve the problem.

2. I felt guilty for not helping.

3. Most people aren't asking for a handout—they simply need help meeting basic human needs.

 

A few years later, my wife and I were spending a weekend in Chattanooga, Tennessee. While we were walking downtown, a man approached me and asked if I could spare five dollars to buy a sandwich. I'm generally hesitant to give cash, but I'm always willing to help someone get what they truly need. So I offered to buy him a meal instead, and he gladly accepted. We stopped at a local restaurant, and I have no doubt it was the best meal he'd had in quite some time. But even though buying the food was easy, the experience wasn't. The manager wasn't particularly welcoming, and it struck me that not everyone knows how to respond with compassion or dignity in these situations.

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Then came the experience that truly changed everything.

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Several years later, I was on a business trip to Pensacola, Florida. I had planned to spend the evening at a local pub for game night and was looking forward to relaxing after work. Just outside the pub, a gentleman stopped me and asked if I could help him. I listened to his story, and all he wanted was something to eat and a few basic toiletries.

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I smiled and said, "I've got you."

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We walked into the pub together, and the wonderful women working behind the bar immediately understood what I was doing. I paid for his meal, and while they took care of him, I spent the next hour running all over downtown Pensacola trying to find a store that sold toiletries. (You really need more late-night options, Pensacola!)

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I'll never forget what happened next.

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As I walked back toward the pub carrying a bag filled with everything he had asked for—and a few extra items—I saw him standing outside. When he spotted me, his face lit up. He looked at me in disbelief and said, "Is that you?"

Then he quietly added, "I didn't think you were coming back."

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We hugged. We both cried. I handed him the bag, and in that moment, something changed in me. Looking back, I think that's the day A Bag of Hope was truly born.

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Since then, I've purchased as many supplies as I can through Walmart and Amazon and assembled ready-to-go bags to keep in my car. Whenever I encounter someone asking for help—whether I'm stopped at a traffic light or walking through a parking lot—I hand them a bag instead of simply apologizing that I can't help.

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I've also noticed that many people experiencing homelessness have loyal companions with them, so I created a "Pooch Pack" filled with supplies for their dogs. If we're going to help, everyone gets help.

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That's how we got here.

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A Bag of Hope probably won't change the world. But it might change one person's day. It might remind someone that they haven't been forgotten. And sometimes, that's more than enough.