Interview
A Bridge to the Homeless
How a southern gospel music star traded glitz and glamour for an opportunity to reach out to the homeless under Nashville's Jefferson Street Bridge.
Andrea Lucado | posted 8/10/2010

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In 1885, a revival swept the city of Nashville when most of the town's commerce lay along the Cumberland River in saloons and brothels. Now, 125 years later, revival may be rumbling there once again. So says Candy Christmas, former southern gospel star and Dove award winner who now ministers to the homeless who reside along the river.
She even believes they'll lead the way. They were certainly the inspiration for Christmas' first album in seven years, On the Other Side (Bridge Records), which released last week. A third-generation member of southern gospel royalty (The Happy Goodman Family were her grandmother's siblings, the Hemphills her parents), Christmas's new album is an eclectic mix of southern gospel classics and hymns, the album reflects what she has witnessed over the past six years, preaching to and feeding the homeless.
In November 2004, Christmas founded The Bridge Ministry—named for its location under the Jefferson Bridge near the riverbank—after taking a pot of jambalaya to a group of homeless people on a visit with a local pastor. The Bridge is now a thriving ministry which includes a weekly church service on Tuesday nights to feed and preach to up to 500 attendees. Other local churches and ministries (including the Salvation Army) also reach out to these homeless. Some of those organizations use the Bridge's 20,000 square-foot warehouse—a resource hub for nonprofits—which is stocked with dry goods, toiletries, and coats to pass out for the winter.
The shade is welcoming under the bridge in summertime, but with 200 plus people crowding around tables of food and sitting shoulder-to-shoulder on plastic folding chairs, the heat is hardly escapable. Nor is the constant sound of rushing vehicles above. Tan, weathered faces line the crowd while a few toothless smiles and lots of laughter color the otherwise gray space. As soon as the music starts, the sound of shifting gravel stops, people still, distractions fade, faces turn, and everyone focuses on the group belting into microphones about amazing grace and how sweet it sounds.
Christmas leads the song initially but before long, she is handing the microphone off to a homeless attendee who finishes the chorus. She does this until the entire song is sung by several willing volunteers. They know every word.

Christmas (3rd from right) and volunteers pray under the bridge
The scene is a long way from its humble beginnings six years ago. "It never occurred to me that I would be starting a ministry," Christmas says. "But the homeless came in so many numbers that the need grew."
When Christmas first visited in 2004, she was battling depression. "I had lost my appetite. I couldn't eat. I was 100 pounds. Then when I got there, it was like something came alive in me that was dead—something that was lacking." So she kept returning to the same spot, always a pot of jambalaya in hand. It eventually grew to a group of volunteers and ultimately a weekly worship service and ministry that functions much like a local church.
If you drive by at any other time of the week, you wouldn't know that spot of gravel under the bridge doubles as the floor of a church. Cars park there during the day, but a single bed roll lying against one of the bridge's support columns hints at the concentration of homeless dwelling near by. One wanderer passes the spot sporting several years' worth of dreadlocks and a pair of once khaki-colored shorts. Some of Nashville's most prominent businesses reside in high rises mere blocks away.