Poppy's Place

The road was long, and the sky hung low, heavy with clouds that seemed to press the earth flat. Out in the countryside, where the hum of the city’s machinery fades and the air grows thick with the smell of damp soil and hay, I found myself rolling into a town I’d never heard of, searching for the heart of something I couldn’t yet name. A place called "Poppy's Coffee, Tea, and Remedies" sat just off the road, tucked into a row of small time establishments located in downtown” Gallipolis, Ohio. It’s hand-painted modest sign beamed out an inviting vibe to all wanderers, wayfarers, and souls who’ve lost their way.

As I opened the ancient door, I passed a faded, non-descript sign in a front corner of the plate glass window that said, “Food Pantry inside for Children and Homeless." Just come in and ask.” I paid scant notice and filed it into the miscellaneous file of my brain. 

Inside the subdued lighting, wooden floors offered a cozy, homey atmosphere. I sat down at a corner table, pulled out my laptop, and was just getting ready to work when Gregg "Poppy" Hill appeared at my table to take my order. Greg is a bit of an imposing figure. His height soaks up all the oxygen in your immediate space; his hands thickened from years of labor.  His full, shaggy beard a few years away from a full Santa Claus. Any imposing feeling of his physical presence is immediately offset by a pair of brown, soulful eyes and his slow, deliberate manner of speech. His face carries the weathered lines of a man who had known hardship and, more importantly, overcome it. The shop had a glow about it, not from the lamps or the warm steam curling out of coffee mugs, but from something deeper—something that felt rooted in the soil of this little Ohio town.

Within the first hour of sitting in the place, no less than four people came in looking for some kind of handout, free food (not from the pantry), free coffee, or both. Each request was met with an upbeat, warm, and inviting greeting—the kind that passes for everyday faire in small towns. And that's when I knew there was more behind this coffee shop than its bookshelf full of homeopathic remedies. I knew I had to know more about this place serving as an unassuming front for something much bigger than first met the eye. 

It was a better story than I could have imagined...

You see, it wasn't long ago that Greg and his wife, Lori, stood at the helm of something most wouldn’t associate with virtue. They ran the largest porn and head shop in town—a place that carried the dark, seedy secrets of men and women looking to fill the empty hours. But that was years ago. Life, they’d tell you, takes unexpected turns, and sometimes you find salvation in the places you least expect. Almost overnight, they found a faith that turned their lives completely around. They sold out of the incredibly lucrative porn trade and took over a struggling coffee shop. They set up the food pantry in a small 8x10 room that doubled as their office. Then something incredible started happening. Food donations came flooding into the shop, quickly overflowing their small pantry. Extra space was acquired next door when they moved into the space abandoned by some long forgotten business. It was then they decided to start Court Street Ministries.  

Their ministry started small—so small, in fact, it was nothing but an 8x10 room where they handed out a few meals to the hungry. A table, a few chairs, and a mission. But if you ask Greg, it wasn’t just them who made it grow into what it is today. “It’s the Good Lord’s doing,” he’d say, eyes glistening with the kind of faith that feels more like a foundation than a crutch. “We’re just here to serve.”

And serve they do. What started as a modest effort has grown into the largest food bank in town, three buildings spanning the width of their vision—more than 300 mouths fed every Thursday, the lines outside waiting for the warmth of a meal and the kindness that comes with it. Inside those walls, you don’t see the stained hands of charity, but the open hands of generosity. And it’s Lori who keeps the engine running, a one-woman dynamo who, alongside Greg, manages not just Court St. Ministries but also the cozy little coffee shop that has become a sanctuary for the town’s wanderers. And somehow she finds time to volunteer at the local Lion's Club and Rotary Club. 

Lori is the kind of woman you meet once in a lifetime. Tireless and resolute, she moves through the coffee shop with the surety of someone who knows exactly what they’re doing and why. She’s quick to give, but she’s no pushover. There’s a balance in her heart—an understanding that while charity must flow freely, it must also inspire those who receive it to give back. I watched as she gently admonished one long-time “patron” of the coffee shop—a man who had taken from the kindness of others long enough.

“It’s time to start giving back,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “Be here Thursday. We need help feeding those folks, and you’re gonna be part of the crew.”

Her words were not a command, but an invitation to join something greater than oneself. And maybe that’s what makes Lori and Greg so special. They see every soul as part of the community, not just recipients of charity but participants in the grand story they’re writing, one meal at a time.

Inside Poppy’s Coffee, Christian music plays in the background—soft melodies that rise and fall like the breath of the place. On the blackboard, scriptures are scrawled in a neat matter-of-fact hand, messages of hope and faith, reminding everyone who steps inside that they’re not alone. “The Lord will provide,” one verse said, and it was more than a phrase; it was the story of their lives. Greg and Lori could tell you tale after tale of the miracles that happened just in time—money appearing when the coffers were dry, food donations showing up when the shelves were bare. It’s no wonder they believe. They’ve lived it. 

Their faith isn’t worn on their sleeves like a badge, but woven into every thread of what they do. Whether it’s serving coffee to the homeless who wander in or gathering 30 volunteers to help feed the hungry on Thursdays, Greg and Lori live their beliefs. It’s why Court St. Ministries continues to thrive and why the people of this small Ohio town trust them. Not just because of what they’ve done, but because of who they are.

And in them, I saw something that stretched far beyond the walls of the shop or the boundaries of their food bank. It was a kind of generosity that didn’t stop at the giving, but reached into the hearts of those they helped and pulled something greater from them—a hope, a belief in better days ahead.

It’s people like Greg and Lori Hill who the Hope & Generosity Tour seeks out. Not because they are perfect, but because they are real—grounded in the soil of America’s heartland, where faith isn’t a word but a way of life.