When Mary Yerina assisted a retired teacher at the Dublin Food Pantry, it was her first visit—and she was in tears before they even began shopping.
“She never thought she’d need the assistance of a food pantry,” Mary recalls. The woman had lost her apartment in a fire and was navigating an uncertain next step.
By the end of their time together, something had shifted.
“She thanked me and said it wasn’t as scary as she thought it would be.”
Moments like that are at the heart of the Pantry’s mission. As Mary puts it, “We all need help at some point in our lives—and the Dublin Food Pantry nourishes not just the body, but the spirit.”
It’s More Than Food, It’s a Community You Can Feel
That impact is what first brought Mary and her husband, Bob Redfield, through the Pantry doors in 2017. They started volunteering during Lent, a season in the Christian faith leading up to Easter when many Christians take on an extra act of service. What began as a short-term commitment quickly became something more.
As Lent came to a close, someone joked, “Lent isn’t ending this year.”
Nearly a decade later, they’re still here. But like so many volunteers, what kept them coming back wasn’t just the work—it was the people they were serving.
“It’s a community there,” Mary explains. “People are recognized by friendly faces who say hello and want to know how they’re doing. People are seen and heard, and their needs are met.”
For many neighbors, that sense of belonging matters just as much as the food itself. Walking into a pantry for the first time can feel overwhelming. But being welcomed, recognized, and treated with dignity can transform that experience into something entirely different.
That spirit of connection has sustained the Dublin Food Pantry for nearly 50 years. While shelves are stocked with food, the Pantry has always been built on people—neighbors who choose to care for one another, whether by volunteering, donating, or simply showing up when someone needs a helping hand.
Longtime volunteer and team lead Karen Ernes has witnessed that evolution firsthand since 2008.
Over the years, she’s seen the Pantry grow in remarkable ways. What once served a few dozen households during an evening distribution now supports hundreds of families each month. Fresh produce fills the shelves. A community garden provides healthy food throughout the growing season. Partnerships connect neighbors to resources beyond groceries. But despite everything that’s changed, Karen says one thing has remained constant.
“Over the years, what has never changed at the Pantry is the amount of enthusiasm and compassion from the people running it and the volunteers.”
That compassion meets a growing and often unseen need.
When Karen first began volunteering, the Pantry primarily served older adults. Today, the faces of food insecurity are far more diverse—families with young children, working professionals, and individuals with advanced degrees navigating layoffs, rising costs, or unexpected life events.
“There is no typical client,” Karen says.
The shift became especially clear during the pandemic, when visits increased from 20–30 households a night to more than 120. And demand has continued grow ever since. Just last month the pantry served 861 households. But even beyond those numbers, one reality stands out: food insecurity exists in every community, even those that appear affluent from the outside.
“You might not be aware of the level of need unless you see it firsthand,” says Gretchen Taylor, a Dublin City Schools teacher. “It really challenges what people assume about who needs help.”
Gretchen’s husband, Brett, puts it simply: “You don’t know the whole story with anyone.”
It’s More Than Food, It’s Creating Stability and Restoring Dignity
While access to food is essential, what the Pantry provides goes far beyond groceries. It creates stability during uncertain times, offers choice—which restores dignity—and connects people to a broader network of support.
“When people can choose their own food, it makes a big difference,” Mary explains. “They take what they’ll actually use. It feels more like a normal grocery experience.”
Today, the Pantry’s choice-based model allows neighbors to select foods that fit their dietary needs, cultural preferences, and family routines—something that can be deeply empowering. It’s also changing what’s possible for families’ health.
In earlier years, fresh food was limited. Now, access to produce is a priority—through grocery partnerships, a community garden, and local collaborations that bring tens of thousands of pounds of fresh fruits and vegetables to Pantry shelves.
“Everyone deserves the same opportunity to take care of their body,” Gretchen says. “People feel better when they eat better.”
Because food doesn’t just fill a plate—it impacts how people feel, grow, and show up in their daily lives. And that same philosophy extends beyond food.
“We’re part of a larger support system,” Mary says. “If someone doesn’t know where to go for help, we can connect them.”
Looking ahead, that kind of support is only continuing to grow. The goal isn’t just to meet immediate needs, but to help neighbors take the next step forward—connecting them with resources that support long-term stability.
These moments are not the exception. They are the essence of what “More Than Food” means.
It’s More Than Food, It’s Neighbors Helping Neighbors
The Dublin Food Pantry exists because people choose to care.
They’ve stocked shelves, grown gardens, sorted donations, delivered food, and welcomed families with kindness and respect. They’ve created a place where no one has to face a difficult season alone.
And in doing so, they prove that addressing food insecurity is not just about filling empty stomachs—it is about building connection, restoring dignity, and strengthening the fabric of a community.
That is what “More Than Food” means.
As we look toward the next 50 years, we hope you’ll be part of that story. Whether you choose to volunteer, make a donation, organize a food drive, or simply share our mission with someone else, you’re helping continue a tradition that has always defined this community: neighbors helping neighbors.