Tear Down This Wall
10/2/2006, 10:07 AM
From The Tulsa World
Serving a helping hand
By JOHN E. HOOVER World Sports Writer
9/28/2006
http://www.tulsaworld.com/images/2006/060928_B1_Servi14434_b1zabel28.jpg
Former OU All-American, NFL player Steve Zabel makes a difference with charity work
OKLAHOMA CITY — The sky is pitch black, and the air is autumn crisp. Twinkling skyscrapers and humming streetlights still illuminate the downtown skyline.
The smell of fresh coffee and scrambled eggs hangs in the cool air, a breakfast beacon flashing from the basement of Citychurch.
Inside, a line forms. A hundred callous faces, bleary and worn from another night of little or no sleep, stand against the wall, eager for what may be their only meal of the day.
Most are anonymous. Many are homeless. But none are hopeless. Because it's 6 a.m., and Oklahoma football legend Steve Zabel is scooping cheesy scrambled eggs and pouring coffee.
"Far as I know," 97-year-old Lester Roberson says between bites, "he's a nice fella."
Roberson's aged wisdom is direct and on the mark. Zabel, an OU All-American in 1968 and '69, a 10-year pro football veteran, is director of development for City Care, Inc., an Oklahoma City non-profit organization that, among other things, feeds the homeless five days a week. Zabel is City Care's chief fundraiser, using his Sooner celebrity to tap pockets yearning to spread the wealth.
Some celebrities turn up at homeless shelters for Thanksgiving or Christmas, and cameras are often there to make known their good deeds. Charity, for some, is cool. Trendy.
For Zabel, it's just what he does.
"I really believe that if people want to look for the meaning of life or a purpose in life, they needn't go further than this," he says. "The postulate is that those who have much need to help those who have little.
"It says it in the Bible, all over the place."
Steve Zabel is 58 years old, and life is good.
Not because of his football fame. Not because he's been married to beauty queen Susan Fields for the past 37 years. Not because they have three grown children (he's also a grandfather) who have become successful. Not because his youngest son, Mason, is about to marry Miss Oklahoma, Jennifer Warren.
It's because of his deeds. The deeds that only cold, hungry, tired faces see in the basement of Citychurch.
Making a difference
Michael was addicted to crack.
"Bad," he says.
Strung out, emaciated and detached from life, Michael heard about the decent breakfasts every morning at Citychurch: biscuits and gravy Monday and Wednesday, scrambled eggs and cheese Tuesday, pancakes and sausage Thursday, grilled cheese, oatmeal and cold cereal Friday.
"We started feeding the homeless in 1992," Zabel said, "and a million-and-a-half meals later, we're still going strong."
Most of those in line come from City Rescue Mission, a few blocks west. Michael — who requested his last name be withheld — didn't have that much. The only thing he wanted was another rock of cocaine. And maybe some eggs.
"I was down, man," he says.
One morning, amid the indecipherable din of breakfast for hundreds, he heard somebody talking about the Sooners. "I love OU football," Michael says. Suddenly, the rock and the eggs could wait.
On one end of the conversation was a tall, barrel-chested, flat-topped man flipping pancakes. Michael, 50, didn't know he was laying eyes on Steve Zabel, a Sooner tight end and punter he once cheered as a kid from 1967-69.
"I found out who he was," Michael said, "and it showed me he wasn't just somebody that played football. He cares. That's the main thing. When he showed me that, that kept me coming back."
Soon, Michael began to receive prayers from Zabel and those working at the church (which loans its commercial kitchen to City Care). He returned daily, first for breakfast, then for work. He volunteered when he could, and in return got razors, toothpaste and bus passes.
"After I got my health back, I started looking for a job. I was working day labor at first, and I got me a little ol' place," Michael said. "I kept coming down to eat, and they gave me sack lunches. Then I started saving my money and I started taking night classes at Vo-Tech. They helped feed me. They kept me nourished, and kept praying.
"That was big because I'd probably still be out there in the street. Them helping me like that, saying prayers and showing that somebody really cared, that there wasn't no hidden agenda behind it, it got me on my feet."
Now Michael — up 50 pounds to a healthy 185 — is a machinist. He makes airplane parts, he makes $20 an hour and he makes a difference. Last week he returned to Citychurch with two things: a grateful embrace for his old (and new) hero, and a $100 bill. He says he'll deliver the same every other paycheck.
"That means it's working. It means it's not a waste of time," Zabel said. "You know that if you can help somebody like it helped Michael, then that's real gratifying."
"Thank God for him, man," Michael says. "Thank God for him."
Helping hand
Being a former Sooner in this state can be a powerful thing. Steve Owens, OU's 1969 Heisman Trophy winner, estimates the Steve Owens Foundation has raised more than a million dollars in the past 15 years to support youth programs, education and mental health in Oklahoma. Owens and other Sooners also have been generous in helping City Care.
Charity golf tournaments and banquets are the biggies, but everything counts. When City Care launched its "Souper Bowl" program to feed the homeless during the bitter cold of January and February, money poured in from donors who, in turn, received game programs autographed by Owens, Jason White and Billy Sims.
"Any time Steve calls, we're here for him," Owens said. "We try to support each other because people love the Sooners and they come out and support us."
City Care's needs never will be completely fulfilled.
"We give out razors, shampoo, toothpaste, Advil, bus tokens, lunches, toilet paper — I mean, when's the last time you had to ask somebody for toilet paper?" Zabel said. "That's real humbling."
And City Care's services will never go unneeded.
Roscoe Harris, 60, lives at the City Rescue Mission and has been eating breakfast at Citychurch for six months. Dressed in a Dallas Cowboys shirt and Texas Rangers hat, the Dallas native playfully jabs Zabel about the Longhorns' victory over OU and national championship last season. He considers Zabel a good friend, and City Care a lifesaver.
"Anything I ask for, most of the time, I can get it," Harris said. "And they feed better than anybody else in the city. If it wasn't for this place, a lot of 'em would starve."
Zabel, who lives at Oak Tree Country Club in Edmond and has an 80-acre ranch near Crescent, said he loves to cook but has scaled back his downtown serving schedule to just one day a week. He said he "fell in love with the fact that I can help people," but Owens said, "he's always been that way. He just cares."
Said Harris, "He's here doing something he really doesn't have to do. And he's been doing this a long time. To me, it shows that he's a good-hearted person."
Meaning of life
Zabel quietly surveys the end of another successful breakfast. The basement is empty except for the volunteers who stay behind to fold chairs and roll away tables. Twenty-two hours from now, it'll start all over again.
"As you can see," Zabel says, "these are all needy people, and for them to have a safe haven, a place where they can get out of their misery for an hour or two five days a week, where they can come in and be treated with respect and not be lorded over like they are most of the time, where they can get a hot cup of coffee and a meal — that's real important to 'em."
Zabel was a two-time All-American and three-time academic all-conference player at OU, holding virtually every receiving record for more than 20 years. He was the No. 6 pick (by Philadelphia) in the 1970 draft and played 10 seasons in the NFL with the Eagles, Patriots and Colts. He tried coaching for a while (at Curry College in New England) and has invented a strength and conditioning tool called The Tug (www.thetug.com). And, he's president-elect of the O-Club (for OU lettermen).
"I still love the Sooners. I'm Sooner-born and Sooner-bred. Every good thing that's happened to me in my life was directly or indirectly a result of my three years I spent playing football at Oklahoma," he says.
"But I think everybody searches for a purpose in life. Clearly, I think my purpose at this point in my life is to try to help those who need help."
Zabel draws from Stoops’ foundation
OKLAHOMA CITY — Matt McMillen grew up in Kansas hearing all about Steve Zabel’s football exploits at Oklahoma. Years later, when Zabel asked McMillen for a favor, McMillen didn’t hesitate.
McMillen is OU coach Bob Stoops’ right-hand man. One of his duties is to administer Stoops’ Champions Foundation, which has given roughly $500,000 to Oklahoma City-area children’s charities since 2000. One of McMillen’s favorites is City Care’s Whiz Kids program, which tutors and mentors inner-city children who need one-on-one help with reading comprehension.
As City Care’s director of development, Zabel’s primary function is raising money. In addition to Whiz Kids, City Care also feeds the homeless five days a week and, with its Pershing Center, provides transitional housing in downtown Oklahoma City.
City Care began 14 years ago by providing 20 meals a day. Today City Care delivers about 7,000 free meals a month — 150 breakfasts five days a week (52 weeks a year) and 100 or so food baskets (enough food for nine meals) each week to low-income families, the elderly and the disabled. Zabel is paid by City Care, but also donates his time and his own resources.
One day a week he cooks up pancakes and sausage and serves them himself.
“The first thing people say about him is what a tough player he was,” McMillen said. “When you meet him, you can see that side of him. But he’s also got the side that is so caring and giving and concerned with the welfare of others. It’s a neat combination in a person.”
Serving a helping hand
By JOHN E. HOOVER World Sports Writer
9/28/2006
http://www.tulsaworld.com/images/2006/060928_B1_Servi14434_b1zabel28.jpg
Former OU All-American, NFL player Steve Zabel makes a difference with charity work
OKLAHOMA CITY — The sky is pitch black, and the air is autumn crisp. Twinkling skyscrapers and humming streetlights still illuminate the downtown skyline.
The smell of fresh coffee and scrambled eggs hangs in the cool air, a breakfast beacon flashing from the basement of Citychurch.
Inside, a line forms. A hundred callous faces, bleary and worn from another night of little or no sleep, stand against the wall, eager for what may be their only meal of the day.
Most are anonymous. Many are homeless. But none are hopeless. Because it's 6 a.m., and Oklahoma football legend Steve Zabel is scooping cheesy scrambled eggs and pouring coffee.
"Far as I know," 97-year-old Lester Roberson says between bites, "he's a nice fella."
Roberson's aged wisdom is direct and on the mark. Zabel, an OU All-American in 1968 and '69, a 10-year pro football veteran, is director of development for City Care, Inc., an Oklahoma City non-profit organization that, among other things, feeds the homeless five days a week. Zabel is City Care's chief fundraiser, using his Sooner celebrity to tap pockets yearning to spread the wealth.
Some celebrities turn up at homeless shelters for Thanksgiving or Christmas, and cameras are often there to make known their good deeds. Charity, for some, is cool. Trendy.
For Zabel, it's just what he does.
"I really believe that if people want to look for the meaning of life or a purpose in life, they needn't go further than this," he says. "The postulate is that those who have much need to help those who have little.
"It says it in the Bible, all over the place."
Steve Zabel is 58 years old, and life is good.
Not because of his football fame. Not because he's been married to beauty queen Susan Fields for the past 37 years. Not because they have three grown children (he's also a grandfather) who have become successful. Not because his youngest son, Mason, is about to marry Miss Oklahoma, Jennifer Warren.
It's because of his deeds. The deeds that only cold, hungry, tired faces see in the basement of Citychurch.
Making a difference
Michael was addicted to crack.
"Bad," he says.
Strung out, emaciated and detached from life, Michael heard about the decent breakfasts every morning at Citychurch: biscuits and gravy Monday and Wednesday, scrambled eggs and cheese Tuesday, pancakes and sausage Thursday, grilled cheese, oatmeal and cold cereal Friday.
"We started feeding the homeless in 1992," Zabel said, "and a million-and-a-half meals later, we're still going strong."
Most of those in line come from City Rescue Mission, a few blocks west. Michael — who requested his last name be withheld — didn't have that much. The only thing he wanted was another rock of cocaine. And maybe some eggs.
"I was down, man," he says.
One morning, amid the indecipherable din of breakfast for hundreds, he heard somebody talking about the Sooners. "I love OU football," Michael says. Suddenly, the rock and the eggs could wait.
On one end of the conversation was a tall, barrel-chested, flat-topped man flipping pancakes. Michael, 50, didn't know he was laying eyes on Steve Zabel, a Sooner tight end and punter he once cheered as a kid from 1967-69.
"I found out who he was," Michael said, "and it showed me he wasn't just somebody that played football. He cares. That's the main thing. When he showed me that, that kept me coming back."
Soon, Michael began to receive prayers from Zabel and those working at the church (which loans its commercial kitchen to City Care). He returned daily, first for breakfast, then for work. He volunteered when he could, and in return got razors, toothpaste and bus passes.
"After I got my health back, I started looking for a job. I was working day labor at first, and I got me a little ol' place," Michael said. "I kept coming down to eat, and they gave me sack lunches. Then I started saving my money and I started taking night classes at Vo-Tech. They helped feed me. They kept me nourished, and kept praying.
"That was big because I'd probably still be out there in the street. Them helping me like that, saying prayers and showing that somebody really cared, that there wasn't no hidden agenda behind it, it got me on my feet."
Now Michael — up 50 pounds to a healthy 185 — is a machinist. He makes airplane parts, he makes $20 an hour and he makes a difference. Last week he returned to Citychurch with two things: a grateful embrace for his old (and new) hero, and a $100 bill. He says he'll deliver the same every other paycheck.
"That means it's working. It means it's not a waste of time," Zabel said. "You know that if you can help somebody like it helped Michael, then that's real gratifying."
"Thank God for him, man," Michael says. "Thank God for him."
Helping hand
Being a former Sooner in this state can be a powerful thing. Steve Owens, OU's 1969 Heisman Trophy winner, estimates the Steve Owens Foundation has raised more than a million dollars in the past 15 years to support youth programs, education and mental health in Oklahoma. Owens and other Sooners also have been generous in helping City Care.
Charity golf tournaments and banquets are the biggies, but everything counts. When City Care launched its "Souper Bowl" program to feed the homeless during the bitter cold of January and February, money poured in from donors who, in turn, received game programs autographed by Owens, Jason White and Billy Sims.
"Any time Steve calls, we're here for him," Owens said. "We try to support each other because people love the Sooners and they come out and support us."
City Care's needs never will be completely fulfilled.
"We give out razors, shampoo, toothpaste, Advil, bus tokens, lunches, toilet paper — I mean, when's the last time you had to ask somebody for toilet paper?" Zabel said. "That's real humbling."
And City Care's services will never go unneeded.
Roscoe Harris, 60, lives at the City Rescue Mission and has been eating breakfast at Citychurch for six months. Dressed in a Dallas Cowboys shirt and Texas Rangers hat, the Dallas native playfully jabs Zabel about the Longhorns' victory over OU and national championship last season. He considers Zabel a good friend, and City Care a lifesaver.
"Anything I ask for, most of the time, I can get it," Harris said. "And they feed better than anybody else in the city. If it wasn't for this place, a lot of 'em would starve."
Zabel, who lives at Oak Tree Country Club in Edmond and has an 80-acre ranch near Crescent, said he loves to cook but has scaled back his downtown serving schedule to just one day a week. He said he "fell in love with the fact that I can help people," but Owens said, "he's always been that way. He just cares."
Said Harris, "He's here doing something he really doesn't have to do. And he's been doing this a long time. To me, it shows that he's a good-hearted person."
Meaning of life
Zabel quietly surveys the end of another successful breakfast. The basement is empty except for the volunteers who stay behind to fold chairs and roll away tables. Twenty-two hours from now, it'll start all over again.
"As you can see," Zabel says, "these are all needy people, and for them to have a safe haven, a place where they can get out of their misery for an hour or two five days a week, where they can come in and be treated with respect and not be lorded over like they are most of the time, where they can get a hot cup of coffee and a meal — that's real important to 'em."
Zabel was a two-time All-American and three-time academic all-conference player at OU, holding virtually every receiving record for more than 20 years. He was the No. 6 pick (by Philadelphia) in the 1970 draft and played 10 seasons in the NFL with the Eagles, Patriots and Colts. He tried coaching for a while (at Curry College in New England) and has invented a strength and conditioning tool called The Tug (www.thetug.com). And, he's president-elect of the O-Club (for OU lettermen).
"I still love the Sooners. I'm Sooner-born and Sooner-bred. Every good thing that's happened to me in my life was directly or indirectly a result of my three years I spent playing football at Oklahoma," he says.
"But I think everybody searches for a purpose in life. Clearly, I think my purpose at this point in my life is to try to help those who need help."
Zabel draws from Stoops’ foundation
OKLAHOMA CITY — Matt McMillen grew up in Kansas hearing all about Steve Zabel’s football exploits at Oklahoma. Years later, when Zabel asked McMillen for a favor, McMillen didn’t hesitate.
McMillen is OU coach Bob Stoops’ right-hand man. One of his duties is to administer Stoops’ Champions Foundation, which has given roughly $500,000 to Oklahoma City-area children’s charities since 2000. One of McMillen’s favorites is City Care’s Whiz Kids program, which tutors and mentors inner-city children who need one-on-one help with reading comprehension.
As City Care’s director of development, Zabel’s primary function is raising money. In addition to Whiz Kids, City Care also feeds the homeless five days a week and, with its Pershing Center, provides transitional housing in downtown Oklahoma City.
City Care began 14 years ago by providing 20 meals a day. Today City Care delivers about 7,000 free meals a month — 150 breakfasts five days a week (52 weeks a year) and 100 or so food baskets (enough food for nine meals) each week to low-income families, the elderly and the disabled. Zabel is paid by City Care, but also donates his time and his own resources.
One day a week he cooks up pancakes and sausage and serves them himself.
“The first thing people say about him is what a tough player he was,” McMillen said. “When you meet him, you can see that side of him. But he’s also got the side that is so caring and giving and concerned with the welfare of others. It’s a neat combination in a person.”