Charity post

Andrew Mathieson
WHEN is a full-time job not a job?
When you don’t get paid, of course, and when you’re having too much fun.
Paul Kimber is in charge of the day-to-day running of The Out-post, a service for the homeless and the socially downtrodden.
It provides emergency accommodation, pharmaceutical vouchers, clothes and, importantly, light meals every day.
And nothing gives Paul more joy than making cheese jaffles from the minute he opens the doors at the tiny Clare Street premises.
There’s always a rush.
“The toasted sandwiches or jaffles come in any flavour they want,” Paul insists.
“Most of the clients seem to like cheese but they also come in with all sorts of weird and wonderful concoctions.”
Paul thinks to himself before giggling.
“They can be cheese and peanut butter or even peanut butter and vegemite – anything, really.”
Sixty-five-year-old Paul has been involved with The Outpost for 14 of its 17 years, most since retiring from the former Geelong Cement works.
“I might go another five years but my wife is making noises about going around Australia,” he admits.
Paul now runs The Outpost out of his own home to save on costs.
The Outpost is running on a tight budget of $28,000 this year from United Way.
Further handouts, however, are always welcome.
“One of the reception centres, and I wouldn’t like to name them, I think the chef there likes to overcook for us and he’s always got some little bits tucked away like a drum of soup,” Paul says.
As well as volunteering nights in the makeshift kitchen, Paul also buys all the food, pays all the bills and does public speaking on behalf of the organisation.
He explains The Outpost’s ongoing plight.
It has about 50 volunteers but numbers are down. The few rostered on each day have to cope with an influx around meal times, especially in the festive season.
“We insist that our volunteers are totally non-judgemental – that’s the first thing I say to them,” Paul explains.
“Sometimes you wonder whether this guy really needs help but they must if they’re here at nine o’clock at night having a jaffle.”
Paul admits the work can be challenging.
But nothing could prepare him for the time a needy guy walked in with two Rottweilers
“He wanted a lift home for him and his dogs but the volunteers said no,” Paul recalls.
“So he asked us to ring him a taxi and it arrived but wasn’t interested, either.
“He got more and more aggressive. In the end, we had to call the police because he let the Rott-weilers loose and the clients took off out the door like rabbits.
“The police took him and his dogs home in the back of the divvy van, so he got his wish in the end.”