By Rodrigo Muzell

Inquirer Staff Writer

Marie Covert holds a piece of paper with the number 116. It's 11:30 a.m., and she is almost at the end of a line that has gotten longer every week since last fall's economic crash: She is waiting for free food.

At the beginning of the line, at 15th Street and Hunting Park Avenue, Marine veteran Tony Moore, 54, hands out muffins, bread, and other baked goods to people who arrived three hours ago. He is the founder of Veteran's United, a nonprofit organization that fights hunger in Philadelphia by distributing goods from food banks and other donors at five locations. Moore and his 50 volunteers are busier than ever.

"Since last year, with the economy, there are more people coming out," Moore said.

There are also people showing up whom Moore has never seen before. He now sees people like Covert, a disabled nursery assistant whose husband, an unemployed construction worker, found out four weeks ago about the food distribution. Now, she comes when she needs fruits and vegetables. By getting healthful food for free, Covert can save at least $80 a month, a significant help to a family budget squeezed by the recession.

"Whatever you get from the free-food place, it balances out the shopping," said Covert, who has two children and is not eligible for food stamps. "If I get food here, I can use the money to buy other things. These days, $20 is a lot."

Soon, Veteran's United hopes to add two more locations, including one on Saturdays.

The need for food assistance has never been so high, said Bill Clark, executive director of Philabundance, the largest food bank in Philadelphia area. A recent poll of agency partners showed that the need for food had increased 31 percent since last year. The hunger-relief agency will try to meet the growth in need with the Emergency Relief Initiative, launched May 11, to provide 1.5 million additional meals between now and the end of the year.

The food bank has also established a toll-free Food Help Line to direct those in need to food cupboards or to supply an Emergency Food Box.

Moreover, the hunger-relief programs are now dealing with people who never expected to be in this situation.

"They are new to this problem, and many of them are terrorized," Clark said. "They are in shock, they are embarrassed, they are desperate. It's a heart-wrenching kind of problem."

Indeed, several people waiting for food recently declined to speak to a reporter, saying they did not want to be seen getting free food.

Most said they were grateful for the help as they quickly walked away, carrying bags of groceries or pushing their small carts.

Veteran's United distributes food at four locations throughout North Philadelphia and one in South Philly: Mondays at 20th Street and Lehigh Avenue; Tuesdays at 15th and Hunting Park; Wednesdays at Vernon Park, and at 20th Street and Erie Avenue; and Thursdays at 25th and Jackson Streets.

Although the food distribution does not begin until 11:30 a.m., those in need start lining up as early as 8, when each gets a number to secure a place in line.

Programs like Veteran's United are becoming more important for another economic reason. Because of the recession, donations are off, so the food banks are getting fewer dry and canned goods. At the same time, a stronger dollar allows importers to purchase more fruits and vegetables. When the produce doesn't sell fast enough, it ends up as donations to the food bank. Fresh food now represents 65 percent of Philadundance's stock, Clark said.

Moore's group, with its network of volunteers, is a crucial link to getting the fresh produce distributed quickly, he added.

"We have to operate as an airline and deliver the food at the exact place in the exact time," Clark said, "because it is perishable, and most programs don't have resources to properly store it."

One of Veteran's United's lieutenants is Bill Forrest, 85, a retired Philadelphia police officer. Vetween 7 and 8 a.m. Monday through Thursday, Forrest drives his van to supermarkets in three suburbs to pick up donations of bread and pastries.

The sweets are arranged at the end of the food line as a parting treat for those picking up their groceries. The line starts with bananas.

"It keeps me busy and occupied. The other guys complain about aches and pains, and I just laugh," said Forrest, as he smoked a cigarette after the three-hour distribution.

That kind of dedication helped Veteran's United evolve from its start in 1991 into an organization that between September and April distributed 541,537 pounds of food.

Moore started the group with a small cadre of fellow veterans when he was working as a lunch-program volunteer in a community center in North Philadelphia and people would show up asking for leftovers. As more people came asking for help, Moore turned to local markets for donations.

"What I found out doing this was that my neighbors weren't eating every day. That's what shocked me the most," Moore said, "because people had to decide whether to pay a bill or to get something to eat."

At a recent distribution, Moore and his fellow volunteers handed out 6,643 pounds of healthful food to 200 people. After three hours listening to many grateful people say thanks and "God bless you all," all Moore could say was that he hoped the program could grow to meet the needs in the community.

"The name of the game," he said, "is helping people."