The San Francisco nonprofit agency that distributed $8 million dollars in surplus food to elderly residents last year has decided to quit after being accused of mismanagement and unsanitary conditions in a series of state audits.
Now, with enough food for 11,000 poor seniors at risk, the state is hoping another nonprofit agency, the San Francisco Food Bank, will step up to save the program, which distributes 30-pound boxes of canned fruit, vegetables, meat, juice, dried milk, peanut butter and cheese each month.
The Economic Opportunity Council, which has been running the program, informed the state in April that it was bowing out, although it is still handing out the food for now. An end date is unclear, and the state is searching for a replacement so San Francisco doesn't lose the food for good. The council already has pared back the number of distribution points, requiring users to travel farther for the food.
The program also was providing 1,000 poor women and children with food, all of which comes from the U.S. Department of Agriculture.
The council's executive director, Nathaniel Mason, did not return calls seeking comment. Deborah Meeker, an official with the state Department of Education, which administers the program, said the council didn't state why it quit. But Meeker said she assumes it's because of administrative difficulties.
The Economic Opportunity Council "knew they couldn't do it. It was horrible," said Karen Garrison, director of senior programs at the Bernal Heights Neighborhood Center, which used to help hand out the boxes.
Audits and memos by state officials dating back two years reflect concern that the council could not track how many boxes it distributed and to whom, how much food was left over, and where the extra food went.
The auditors also found evidence of rodents and bird droppings at the warehouse where the council stored the food.
For years, the council had been distributing food at 92 sites -- from senior centers to housing complexes -- but as a result of the audits and the council's inability to quickly fix the problems, the state told it to reduce the sites.
The council used so many sites to make the food as accessible as possible. It relied on volunteers to help give out the boxes.
"With that many sites there was no way for them to keep track of the accountability process," Dave Allen of the state Department of Education said in an interview this year.
In October, the council dropped all but 14 sites. The number of people who picked up food fell to about 6,000 largely as a result.
"We did everything we could to try to make sure there's accountability," Betty Brooks, the council's former program manager, protested at a Board of Supervisors hearing last winter. The board of directors of the nonprofit council includes almost every elected local San Francisco official -- from the mayor to members of the Board of Supervisors to the public defender -- or their representatives.
Bernal Heights Neighborhood Center, where 100 seniors had relied on the food, was one of the locations dropped.
"Now our seniors have to take at least two buses and maybe a J (Muni streetcar) to get the boxes, and these are pretty heavy boxes," Garrison said. And that means hardly anyone bothers, she said.
Bruce Livingston, director of the Senior Action Network advocacy group, said many seniors who had received the surplus food are instead trying to find a nearby place that serves free meals or are foregoing good nutrition altogether.
The state asked the San Francisco Food Bank, a private nonprofit group that already provides more than 20 million pounds of food a year, to take over. Although the food bank has filed an application for the job, its directors are still wondering if they can do it.
"The startup costs alone would be $250,000," Executive Director Paul Ash said Thursday.
The state distributes some money to help, but Ash said other cities with this program find it costs much more to run it.
The Food Bank, which relies on private donations, will need extra storage, a truck and bookkeeping help. While food pantry patrons don't have to show proof that they are poor, the state program requires lots of documentation and monthly signatures from anyone taking a box.
So Ash and his staff are seeking donations, such as warehouse space and cash.
For the Food Bank to succeed where the council did not, he said, "We will probably spend more money than they did. And we'll get every signature we're supposed to get."
At a Board of Supervisors hearing on the council's problems this winter, the executive director said he needed more money to run the program.
"Whatever it takes to serve the people, we are open to do that," Mason said in late February.
San Francisco is one of six cities in the state with the commodity supplemental food program, which dates to 1969. Twenty-eight states have the program.