The Cross leaves a legacy of kindness

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This article was published 11/09/2023 (1069 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

‘How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.” — A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

It should have been to thunderous applause and a standing ovation when the final curtain fell on Sept. 5 on the last act of a long-standing institution on Main Street. One devoted to the people in one of the most oppressed neighbourhoods in the city.

It would have been a well-deserved tribute to those who volunteered their time there, and one worthy of most volunteers anywhere.

Yet even that wouldn’t do justice to the efforts of those who have powered this particularly unique locale since its inception in the Main/Higgins area in 1987.

But instead, it was quiet resignation that marked the finale.

It was a resignation that it was time to say farewell to a faithful friend.

The prevailing circumstances made it untenable, with safety of the mostly “older” female volunteer staff being the most significant.

Our Place Chez Nous, commonly known as “The Cross” to those in the area, had been situated at its latest and last location at 676 Main St., on the west side of Main between Higgins and Henry Avenue, since 1995.

The very large and prominent cross that adorned the upper part of its façade identified it.

Many of you no doubt drove by it countless times, wondering what it was.

Built in 1904, and originally designed as a drugstore (per the Winnipeg Architecture Foundation website), it was remodelled in 1948, and was a branch of the Bank of Montreal.

In its last role as a drop-in, it was essentially a non-affiliated Catholic outreach centre, hence the cross, with many of the volunteers being from parishes of the local archdiocese.

Hopefully none see red at the mere mention of the Catholic Church. That would be an egregious injustice to the great work that was done there, by outstanding people, none of whom were paid to work in some very adverse conditions.

It was also thanks to the generous donations of these parishes, and the general public, that helped fund the drop-in.

I spent over five years frequenting there, and as the area police beat constable, saw their positive influence on the pulse of this very rough neighbourhood.

Religion was the last thing to be dispensed, if ever. Instead there were generous helpings of secular fellowship, and a devotion to helping the less fortunate. Food, warmth, clothing, half-decent coffee (sorry!), and even laundry services, to name a few, were what people could depend on at the Cross.

If you’ve never been there, you could not imagine the mix of people who frequented it, but for those who regularly drove through the neighbourhood, and occasionally glanced to the side at some “incident,” they might have an idea.

Some truly “scary” characters availed themselves of the services, and although most respected the rules, inevitably there were some deviations in behaviour, such was the area.

So volunteering there was not for the faint of heart.

It was an open concept, so the volunteers mixed with the clients, and these volunteers included grandmothers, grandfathers, a kindly gentleman who had seen more than his fair share of suffering and extremes, and even a retired army major-general.

The persuasive power of a “grandmotherly” rebuke would sometimes put a stop to a problem, or the combined admonitions of the male volunteers.

Occasionally even clients intervened to help preserve the sanctity.

And sometimes I was required.

As I’ve previously intimated, it required a special type of person to work there.

So I couldn’t believe it when I first stepped into the drop-in in late 2014 when back on the beat.

It was somewhat surreal, but here in the middle of this area rife with substance abuse and violence, was this oasis.

And casually and happily circulating in the crowd were these “old(er)” (no offence!) volunteers.

I wondered “what are you doing here?!” which of course they also wondered of me.

Although I had worked many of my 30 years policing mostly downtown, I knew nothing of The Cross.

It was a gem hidden in plain sight.

But it is now gone, and is another loss to the neighbourhood.

And although people will still manage with the available resources in the area, The Cross was distinct among them.

It was never the baking that kept me coming back there.

It was those volunteers (and the people they served).

So take a bow. You deserve it.

Kevin Birkett is a former Winnipeg police officer. He retired in March 2020.