Couple Get More Out of Life From Giving to the Poor

CAPISTRANO BEACH —  Six years ago, Paul and Diana Spitz looked at their middle-class lives and didn’t like what they saw.

They had trappings many would covet, including her executive sales job for a big-time development firm, his barber shop businesses, and a big home in Laguna Niguel.

“We had become so isolated living here in south Orange County,” said Paul Spitz, 54, a barber turned minister. “We were middle class, our friends were middle class, the neighborhood was middle class. We lived in Laguna Niguel and everything we did from shopping to going to church, kept us so isolated from the needs of the community.”

They had raised five children, but they wanted more out of life, and decided to commit themselves to a year helping the poor. Spitz quit his job as associate pastor at Ocean Hills Community Church in San Juan Capistrano, and his wife left a regional sales manager position with Taylor Woodrow Homes.

Together, they founded United Community Outreach, a South County-based food bank and thrift store operation that supports Victory House, a shelter for men dealing with alcohol and drug abuse and homelessness. In addition, the private, nonprofit group is in escrow for a San Juan Capistrano duplex that will house women in similar need.

Once they made the change, the couple never looked back.

“We can’t imagine doing anything else,” Spitz said. “It’s so easy to take things for granted, and the one thing it’s done is it’s made us thankful for what we have.”

Spitz directs a staff of seven at the group’s offices at La Tienda Thrift store, 34095 Doheny Park Road, in Capistrano Beach. United Community Outreach raises about $350,000 a year from store sales and private donations, he said.

When they started, Spitz drove a truck hauling donated furniture and surplus food and did all errands, while his wife, Diana, was the store’s cashier. As an ordained Christian minister, Spitz also tended to the spiritual needs of the men living at Victory House.

United Community Outreach was giving away 70,000 pounds of food for about 1,000 people a month through area churches. That stopped last month when large grocers and food manufacturers decided to ship food it could not sell to salvage brokers who sell to swap meets and discount outlets instead of donating it to food banks.

“It’s been a scramble,” Spitz said. “Just because donations are down doesn’t mean that demand is down. There are many, many people who relied on our food bank. I don’t know where we’re going to get food for people now.”

But the men’s shelter has been the group’s main focus. Although numbers fluctuate, the shelter houses at least 10 men at all times.

Ron Acosta, 39, who recently stayed at Victory House, said that when he first arrived he had been treated at a detox facility in another county for heroin addiction.

“I had a slight attitude problem when I got here,” Acosta said. “I thought they were going to do all these things for me, like they were going to take care of me and of my problems.

“They didn’t,” Acosta added. “The thing at Victory House is, you got to learn to help yourself, at least that’s what they told me. Spiritually, it helped me grow.”

Acosta said Spitz was able to reach him and begin a healing process. Acosta now is paid a salary and he helps out at Victory House, drives the group’s truck, and also works as a store cashier.

“They’ve given me responsibilities that a few years ago I wouldn’t have ever thought of handling,” Acosta said. “And, I don’t think twice about it.”

While Acosta needed to make a personal commitment to change his life, Darren Sabo, 30, arrived at Victory House on a similar search but for different reasons.

“I came in the store a long time ago for a pair of jeans,” Sabo said. “And, a guy told me all about Victory House.”

At the time, Sabo was recovering from a severe beating he got at a bar in Carlsbad, where he was living at the time, that left him barely able to walk.

“I was under psychiatric care for depression too. I was a mess,” Sabo said.

While he cannot recall who he talked to at the store two years ago, Sabo did remember the conversation.

“He told me God could help me,” Sabo said, speaking slowly and with purpose. “For me, God was my last chance. I sold everything and came up [to Orange County] and got involved in Victory House. Before I had no reason to wake up and breathe. Now, I realize it wasn’t my life. It’s God’s life and he has a plan for me.”

Victory House does not charge the men any rent, Spitz said. But the group manages their money during their stay to prevent them from buying alcohol or drugs and going astray.

Such temptations are deja vu for the head of the program.

“I was once hooked on drugs and alcohol myself,” Spitz said. “I had a compulsive-addictive personality when I was younger and I threw that away and gave my life to Jesus. I became a pastor and committed my life to Jesus Christ, so I have compassion for these men. I’ve been there where they’ve been.”