EVERETT — They call him Papa Kila.
For the past year, Kila Leapaga Sr., a pastor with A Ray of Hope Mission, has been hosting free breakfasts out of a Hewitt Avenue basement.
Anybody’s welcome to come. There’s coffee. Even second helpings of pancakes, biscuits or whatever’s on the menu that morning.
“We pack this place,” said Leapaga, who runs the kitchen with his wife, Irene, and a group of volunteers they call brothers and sisters.
Of late, Leapaga has been turning his fatherly attention not only to Everett’s downtrodden, but also to those in his birthplace of American Samoa.
An 8.3-magnitude earthquake and tsunami hit the U.S. territory as well as the countries of Samoa and Tonga on Sept. 29.
The waves killed 177 people and displaced 30,000. More than 30 of the deaths were in American Samoa.
Without Leapaga, Everett and the Pacific islands might seem impossibly far apart. But today, he hopes to bring them close with a benefit lunch.
A $10 donation buys a meal of teriyaki chicken, kalbi ribs, macaroni salad, desert and soft drinks.
Leapaga plans to use half the money to send canned food and other supplies to Holy Ghost Revival, a sister church in American Samoa. He’s trying to find a company to sponsor a shipping container.
The other half of the money would buy paper plates, utensils and food for a free Thanksgiving Day breakfast Leapaga holds in Everett every year.
Leapaga described his homeland as “totally different.” He was born in Nuuuli village in 1953.
“In Samoa, there’s a lot of respect,” he said. “We don’t have homeless. We help one another. We respect one another. The elderly are always respected.”
His family moved to Hawaii in the 1960s. That’s where he met his wife, with whom he now has four grown children.
They later moved to San Francisco and landed in the Pacific Northwest 20 years ago. They earned the nicknames of Papa Kila and Mama Irene in Everett.
Now that the Leapagas have retired, serving free meals is a daily habit.
Starting after 6 a.m. Tuesday through Friday, a crowd shuffles down a short flight of stairs to their mission.
Mostly male and many homeless, they settle around a dozen plastic tables in a tidy basement room. By the time the kitchen closes at 11 a.m., its common for more than 150 people to have come through.
A volunteer in his late 50s with a ponytail often cooks up grub in a corner kitchen.
“God blessed us and we feel that we should bless others,” retiree Jimmy Rodriguez said. “We like to give them as much as they can eat. If they get seconds and thirds, that’s good.”
They might collect a few dollars in a change jar, but most of the expenses come from the Leapagas’ pockets. Businesses also donate food.
Les Fetchko said Leapaga connects with the homeless like nobody else. Fetchko knows firsthand. He’s gone from setting up homeless outreach programs to needing their services after he found himself on the streets.
“They call him Papa Kila for a reason,” Fetchko said. “He has a kind of father-figure relationship with people.”
Noah Haglund: 425-339-3465, nhaglund@heraldnet.com.
Talk to us
> Give us your news tips.
> Send us a letter to the editor.
> More Herald contact information.
