Meeting Pamela

Editors note:

What follows is a founder’s account, written in a documentary style. Names, conversations, and observations appear as they occurred, with an emphasis on accuracy over interpretation.

Getting in touch with Pike Place did not feel transactional. It began with Pamela.

Words do not quite hold the degree of respect I have for her. She carries a steadiness that comes from understanding both systems and people at the same time. When we first met in person, she walked us through the facilities, narrating how each part of the operation functions. It was the kind of quiet competence that makes you trust the work being done.

Instead of asking for a proposal, she asked for context. She sent photographs of the shelving, the intake space, and the places where families pause. They were not aesthetic images. They showed flow. They showed where information sits, and where it disappears.

We scheduled a forty-five minute call. I explained that Heartline grew from a question I cannot seem to let go of: how health information travels, who is excluded, and what happens when translation is left to individuals. Pamela listened carefully and described the small, persistent gaps she notices every week.

After the call, I sent drafts and layouts as working documents. Nothing was final. The goal was accuracy and to keep focusing on the social work that was needed at the Food Bank rather than stray towards more medical information.

Indeed, Pamela is the epitome of humanitarianism. When it was time to setibute the kits I was met with such a sense of benevolence from her. It is interactions akin to those I had with Pamela that fuel my fervent passion for this movement.