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A passionate voice for Central Florida's Hungry With Central Florida suffering economic pangs nearly two years ago, the head of Central Florida's biggest emergency food supplier needed to get more grain into the silo. But even faithful donors to Second Harvest Food Bank of Central Florida were asking for donations to get by. Dave Krepcho, the group's president and CEO, knew he needed new sources. What he found was a better way to serve up an old staple against hunger: food stamps. Second Harvest learned that only half of qualified Central Floridians ever apply. In Orange County alone, that meant $60 million in federal benefits were going unused each year. Krepcho's solution: Take help to the streets. He convinced the state Department of Children and Families, which oversees the food-stamp program, to green-light a team armed with laptops to comb communities for qualified applicants and process applications on the spot. In its first year, Second Harvest's Benefit Connections program generated $6.1 million in food-stamp benefits. "I think it goes back to that old saying: Necessity is the mother of invention," Krepcho says. The Old Testament recounts a dreamer named Joseph, who shepherded Egypt through famine. Krepcho's peers see some of the historical food banker in the man who is fond of proverbs and who was tested by a plague of hurricanes a month into his job at Second Harvest. And who — despite the widening gap between supply and demand — keeps the storehouse at disaster-relief levels to ease what he calls a "slow-moving economic disaster." "Those most vulnerable have been affected the most," says Brent Trotter, president and CEO of the Coalition for the Homeless of Central Florida, which gets food from Second Harvest, "and Dave's leadership to ensure the flow of food and meeting the needs of the hungry have been unmatched." His transformation of Second Harvest from warehouse to a nimble force for fighting regional hunger is why Krepcho has been named the 2009 Central Floridian of the Year by the Orlando Sentinel's editorial board. For 27 years, the distinction has saluted the contributions of an individual or a group. Krepcho (pronounced "KREP-co") downplays his role, crediting frontline workers. But his voice in branding hunger as a community imperative is undeniable. "He's done a great job helping to carry the torch of those in need in our community," says Christian Service Center Executive Director Robert Stuart, who relies on Second Harvest for its Daily Bread programs. Suffer the little children In leading a complex organization with a $6 million budget and relationships with 530 partner agencies in Brevard, Lake, Orange, Osceola, Seminole and Volusia counties, Krepcho draws on the soul and creativity of an artist and the still-sharp memories of a boy who also knew hunger. He recalls the evening after the steel mill where his father worked went on strike. Krepcho and his siblings discovered the usual dinner staples — meatloaf, mashed potatoes, green beans and glasses of milk — had been replaced by a can of USDA peanut butter, a sleeve of saltines and glasses of water. "Being a little kid, I thought it was a joke," says Krepcho, 56. "It was a, 'Hey, Mom, what's the deal?' sort of thing. And she said, 'David, eat what's in front of you, and do your homework.' And we did. "My parents were embarrassed. We had to rely on the local emergency food pantry. Eventually, the normal food came back…It just goes to show how so many people truly are on the bubble." He worries today about providing dinner and dignity in Central Florida, now plagued with increasing food insecurity — the absence of a dependable supply of nutritious food. For the 2003-04 fiscal year, Second Harvest distributed nearly 8.6 million meals; that number jumped to 14.2 million for 2008-09. It's a reality Krepcho refuses to abide, especially for children. In 2006, Second Harvest launched a program that provides food on weekends to kids for whom free school lunch is sometimes their only nourishing meal. "He has a passion for childhood hunger," says Kim Mowatt, community center manager for the Dr. J.B. Callahan Neighborhood Center in Orlando, which gets after-school food from Second Harvest. "Hunger represents much more than just absence of food on the plate," Krepcho says. "It robs the single working mother of dignity to provide the basics for her children. It robs the senior citizen of vitality and one of the simplest pleasures of the day in their golden years. It robs the child of future potential if proper nutrition is not provided — a child who cannot learn cannot earn. "Hunger is one of those problems that can be ended. It's doable." Soul of an artist Growing up in Erie, Pa., on the shore of Lake Erie, Krepcho learned a cast-iron work ethic from his father, Dave, who labored for 32 years in a steel mill; and Helen, a mother who reared five kids. His parents encouraged their kids' education and challenged them to chart their own paths. Krepcho fancied drawing and graduated from Columbus College of Art & Design in Ohio, but he wasn't keen on playing the starving artist. So Krepcho channeled his creativity into another avenue — Madison Avenue. After stints as a graphic designer and art director, he moved into management and marketing, helping build brands for heavyweight clients such as Marriott and McDonald's. He eventually landed at a firm in Miami. But there, like the biblical Joseph, his life took a detour. A church friend invited Krepcho to a board meeting at the Daily Bread Food Bank in Miami. Twice. The third time, "I begrudgingly went," Krepcho recalls. But as he listened to the discussion, "it hit me between the eyes. It became so clear to me, that I could raise money and awareness. It dawned on me that in the ad business…I was always looking for the unique selling proposition that distinguished one product from another. I discovered that food is one of those things that the closer you look at it, the better it gets." Stormy weather For five years, Krepcho served as a volunteer board member. Then, as with so many others, life changed in 1992 when Hurricane Andrew leveled parts of South Florida. The food bank's director suddenly resigned. Krepcho was asked to fill in during an impossible crisis. "I go, 'Oh … kay. I don't know what I'm doing.'" Somehow, though, the food bank ramped up its distribution and Krepcho became its executive director. After nearly a decade, Krepcho moved on to America's Second Harvest in Chicago, the nation's largest hunger-relief organization, as vice president of business development. Four years later, tragedy returned him to Florida when the death of a Central Florida food-bank employee was followed by the resignation of its executive director. Krepcho was tapped to replace her. A month later came Hurricane Charley, followed by two other storms, giving Krepcho his first big Central Florida test. "There is a saying that I love: 'Crisis reveals character,'" Krepcho says, and he found he inherited a team that rises to challenges. For 2004-05, Second Harvest distributed more than 11.2 million meals — up 2.6 million meals from the previous year. His team learned something, too. "I've heard stories about the passion and innovation of the NASA team in the years leading up to the moon launches. To a person, they all believed it was possible to achieve the moon, and they worked in amazing ways to make it happen. That's been the case at Second Harvest Food Bank over the past five years," says Greg Higgerson, vice president of development for Second Harvest. Outside the box Creativity and innovation, as Krepcho sees it, are the gas that power solutions to hunger. Second Harvest serves an average of 53,644 people weekly, and somewhere between 2 million and 2.5 million each year, yet Krepcho constantly seeks to get more food into the pipeline. One way is meeting the need where it exists. Last month, for example, Second Harvest tested a mobile pantry that trucked food to five locations, including two Orange County elementary schools so families in the free and reduced-price lunch program could enjoy nourishing meals during Christmas break. Building relationships with potential donors and partners requires building a message that sells. Krepcho preaches hunger as an all-inclusive gospel. He testifies that Second Harvest truckers aren't driving trucks, "they're fighting hunger." Hunger, also, is ecumenical. Last November, he challenged Christian, Jewish and Muslim leaders to rally their flocks at the food bank's first interfaith forum on hunger. "[Dave] was not just interested in his own organization, but in the cause of feeding people, however that could get done," says Dr. Joel C. Hunter, senior pastor of Northland, A Church Distributed, which Krepcho attends. Even in a downturn, Krepcho says Second Harvest has enjoyed an innovative uptick. "There's enormous power in the status quo — especially in economic times like these because people are afraid," he says. But "I have this wonderful canvas at Second Harvest. There's so much opportunity and so much we can do as an organization around the topic of hunger." That explains Harvey, the ventriloquist dummy Krepcho rescued from a North Carolina antique shop. He's now the star of a new fundraising video that Krepcho debuted during a December banquet, in which Harvey takes potential donors on a tour of Second Harvest. Burnishing the message Behind closed doors last month, Krepcho and several top staffers met to pore over a 230-page synopsis of questionnaires from 343 regional food pantries, soup kitchens and shelters. The surveys help inform a comprehensive study on hunger that national hunger-advocate Feeding America conducts periodically. The analysis only confirmed their partners' tales of more middle-class and blue-collared faces in the longer food lines. Huge spikes in soup-kitchen lines. Almost double the number of people making cruel choices between keeping the lights on and keeping food on the table. Sobering stuff. Then, there was this: 90 percent of food pantries confessed that if Second Harvest went belly up, like some other emergency food providers have, the impact to clients would be devastating. "That's overly dependent," Krepcho said, looking at his colleagues. "That puts a lot of pressure on us. Oh, geez." But crisis reveals character. And Krepcho has weathered storms before. Video:
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