Bells Toll, Ringers Toil for Holiday Charity

"No, ringing it harder does not make a bit of difference," Obie Mitchell said as he stood beside his red kettle on a chilly morning last week. He was explaining the techniques he has perfected in four years of Salvation Army bell ringing at this same spot, the Giant at Kingsview Village shopping center in Germantown.

The key to luring more coins into the pot, Mitchell said, is not in the wrist but in the personality. "I say hello to every person I see. I say, 'Merry Christmas,' and smile at folks whether they give any money or not."

To prove his point, Mitchell let a reporter take over the bell for 20 minutes. Dozens of shoppers hurried by in that time but none stopped to drop a coin. Mitchell took over, beamed cheer across the parking lot and within two minutes had three donations, including a big one.

"That was a 20," Mitchell said after a man in a black topcoat pushed a folded bill into the slot. "I can tell what they are no matter how tightly they fold them."

Mitchell, 64, of Germantown usually collects $160 to $175 in change during his eight-hour shift in front of the Giant, which puts him just above average for the 30 or so paid bell ringers the Salvation Army stations each day in Montgomery County. Like many of his co-workers, he's on disability (and still favors his right leg following a serious stroke five years ago). Others who sign up for the $8-an-hour starting wage are retirees, unemployed workers, the recently homeless and others who could use a little bump of seasonal income.

But whatever their background, the bell ringers form the front lines of the Salvation Army's most important fund-raising drive. The kettles brought in $170,000 to the Montgomery chapter last year, money the organization uses to provide rent and heating assistance, food, prescription drug aid and child care to the county's neediest residents.

"The ringers make all the difference," said Capt. Michael Rojas, head of the Montgomery corps. "It's really about the enthusiasm of the person who's ringing the bell. It causes people to want to give more."

That has proven more difficult this year, Rojas said. Kettle collections are down about 23 percent from 2006, leading him to hire about 10 more ringers each day to make up the difference. He expects to fall short of his $185,000 goal for the season, which runs from the day after Thanksgiving until Christmas Eve. That people are finding it hard to part with their spare change makes Rojas think he should be bracing for a jump in demand for Salvation Army services.

"If they are feeling the pinch, we know from experience that we are going to see a spike in need along with the decline in giving," Rojas said.

And that makes the bell ringing even more important.

The ringers' day starts at 11 each morning, six days a week, at the Salvation Army's county headquarters in Germantown. Last Thursday, Mitchell and about 21 others gathered for a free breakfast, a briefing on the previous day's collection totals and a daily pep talk. After handing around the red plastic kettles, each dangling two padlocks, Salvation Army staffers passed out gift certificates from Chick-fil-A. One of the ringers wrapped a leftover biscuit in a napkin and put it in the pocket of his hooded sweatshirt.

"Mr. Clark, you're at the Lake Forest Macy's," called Rojas, trim and cheerful in his black military-style uniform. "Mr. Branch, you're at the Safeway Potomac."