Salvation Army’s Dodge plans to retire after 22 years’ service

Monday, Dec. 11, 2000 | 11:27 a.m.

Sumner Dodge will tell you forthright, securing contributions to help the needy is hectic, food shortages and last-minute pleas are commonplace, and Christmas at the Salvation Army "is like a battle zone."

But behind his booked calender, 850 accumulated food drives and two post-holiday operations is a simple concept that keeps him going: "When you're homeless, you think that nobody loves you."

After 22 years of speaking out for the destitute, organizing food and toy drives, recruiting Christmas bell ringers and serving as a media liaison for the Salvation Army, Dodge says he will retire in February. He leaves behind a quiet legacy and a career he said both humbled and simplified his life.

"I never dreamed I'd work for a nonprofit agency," Dodge said. "It's been a wonderful, spiritual experience."

When the unemployed, former Social Security worker answered a newspaper advertisement in 1978 -- a nonprofit organization seeking a public relations director -- he said he knew nothing about the Salvation Army, other than it "helped alcoholics and did some things at Christmastime."

But within the first year at the Salvation Army he researched its mission and in the process found his calling. His own life story would be the driving force behind his ambition.

In 1971 his father killed himself, leaving behind a note in his Las Vegas trailer: "My family deserted me. I have nothing to live for."

A few years later, tired of shuffling papers and frustrated over the bureaucratic wall that prevented him from helping people, Dodge would leave his 15-year position as a Social Security worker and move to Phoenix, only to find that "the whole world had changed" and jobs were no longer plentiful.

Dodge said he found temporary employment positions and drew from his retirement savings, draining his savings within a year. "I did what I could to keep going, but then got to the point where I was on the verge of being homeless in a couple of days."

That's when he was hired by the Salvation Army and found himself "surrounded by Christians and people in a similar situation."

He came aboard in time to see the Southwest Division Headquarters grow from an operation in a small building with "dark, dingy rooms" to a renovated 200-room hotel that housed the growing homeless population during the 1980s recession.

Twelve years later, Lt. Col. Jim Sullivan of the Las Vegas Salvation Army hired Dodge to put a face on the group in Las Vegas. The Salvation Army needed to improve its image in the community, Sullivan said. "People didn't know about us. You can't raise money and do a good job if people don't know you."

When a TV station from Phoenix sent a floral arrangement for Dodge on his first day on the job in Las Vegas, Sullivan said, he knew he hired the right man.

"Some things we've done we'd not been able to do if it wasn't for Sumner," Sullivan said. "When he came, our annual budget was $1 million. Our budget this year will be close to $9 million."

Dodge and his wife, Nancy, a volunteer who works 60 hours a week, go far beyond what is expected, he said.

The Las Vegas Salvation Army has experienced a growth spurt similar to the Phoenix operation. When Dodge arrived, the Salvation Army was operating out of a small building on Bonanza Road near Las Vegas Boulevard. Today a large building housing an emergency shelter, family services office and dining room sits on 5.4 acres at 35 W. Owens Ave. and sleeps 200 nightly.

The organization also provides emergency assistance and help to homeless people who are mentally ill. Drug and alcohol rehabilitation and training and job placement programs are offered. The efforts assist 85,000 people each year, Dodge said.

Since Dodge arrived and began coordinating food drives, 3.5 million food items have been collected, he said. Listening to him discuss all of the bases that need to be covered this holiday season, one wonders what he will do when he retires.

"I know it's going to be like dropping off the edge of a cliff because I have nothing to keep my mind busy," he said.

Charlie Desiderio, whose resume includes the United Way and Catholic Charities, will take over Dodge's position, a combination of public relations and financial development, Sullivan said. Desiderio was hired six weeks ago to assist Dodge through the holidays.

Dodge said he plans to help part time with food drives and will continue conducting chapel Friday nights with his wife, where he shares his story with the homeless, which he said is one of his most meaningful efforts with the charity.

"People say the homeless are lazy," he said. "That's not true. Most of them have good skills and want to work, but it's difficult when you're homeless. You're dirty, smelly, you don't have an address, a telephone number or a resume.

"There are elderly women who are homeless because they can't live on Social Security checks. Some people have drug or alcohol problems.

"I see casinos laying people off and know we're going to see them in a few days.

"It used to be just poor people who were homeless," he said. "Now it's everyone from different economic backgrounds."

When working in a government welfare office, "there were people I was talking to who needed help, and there was nothing I could do," he said.

"Here, people are hungry, we feed them. They need help with addictions, we help them."

Dodge said his life experiences taught him patience and that prayers aren't always answered right away. "But I discovered one thing," he said. "God's timing is perfect."

Through it all, his father's suicide note has motivated him, he said.

"It's the reason I do what I do. I don't want anyone, especially the homeless, to think that nobody loves them."