By Trevor Spencer

Friday afternoon, Bradley Clyne walks the smooth concrete trail that runs alongside Walker Park. Runners and bikers swerve past him as their minds focus on finishing the next mile of the path. This trail is the Razorback Regional Greenway. It provides a good way for residents to enjoy some exercise in nature around Fayetteville before returning to their couch. Clyne, however, is not walking as some form of escape or recreation. He is not focused on finishing the next mile.  Because, he does not, like many runners, avoid the reality that sits just outside the concrete path.

Uncovered by the barren trees, anyone during Fayetteville’s winter can plainly see clusters of tents that sit beside the creeks and under the bridges that the Greenway passes. For almost a mile along this stretch of trail near Walker Park, these camps are communities of some of the approximately 200 residents of Washington Country with nowhere to go, according to NWA Continuum of Care.

For many of those that are lying in these tents just beyond Walker Park, they have no couch to go back to like those passing them, no home with a bed, or a shower, a kitchen, or air conditioning.  But, every week, they will see Clyne’s familiar face.  “To them, I’m B.C.…They’re family.” And, they know why he’s here walking, waving, and looking right at them.  

Leading to The Trail

Clyne leads a non-profit organization and ministry called Every Soul Matters, which distributes food, clothing, and other needs in homeless outreach. 

Another reason for Clyne’s patient, gentle, and intentional outreach with this group in society is empathy. Clyne and his family used to live in a van, as he was homeless for the late 70’s and early 80’s.

In 1977, at 20, he moved near Estes, Colorado, which is the base of Rocky Mountain National Park, to help his dad run a Girl Scout camp called Meadow Mountain Ranch. This sort of venture was not new for Clyne. For the seven previous years, Clyne grew up in a remote town called Big Moose in New York that sat in the middle of the Adirondack Mountains. His mom and dad ran the Little Fox Hotel there. Even then, his parents’ business controlled much of his life, in what he called an abusive upbringing.

In this, Clyne had a lot of responsibilities, such as chopping firewood, helping out at the hotel bar or restaurant, and getting his brother ready for school every morning. His parents would have been up until 2 or 3 a.m. tending the bar. The strenuous atmosphere led to long sessions of escape in the wilderness reading and playing in the lush forest of northern New York. Eventually, Clyne was dissatisfied with the pay given by his parents, and he went to work at another restaurant close by. This demanding childhood led to a growing independent spirit.  In 1977, this spirit took off. Clyne helped at the ranch for only a few months, and then his friends met him in Colorado to leave the ranch and hitchhike the West.

He traveled from Colorado to Arizona and Arizona to Washington. Taken up by the desired independence from his childhood combined with the similar free spirit of the 70’s, he and his friends would sell their plasma for $15 dollars a week to eat cheap hamburgers and buy fresh Mexican pot.

This lifestyle of travel and homelessness would keep up into his mid-20’s and 30’s. Starting in 1981, Clyne, his wife Angela, and eventually his two children would move back and forth between Pensacola, Florida and Northwest Arkansas for much of the 80’s. They initially moved to Northwest Arkansas because they liked the weed they had smoked from Madison County. Soon after arriving, they would begin to homestead, living off the land, and growing their own crops. In the winter, they would move to Pensacola, but after years of instability in a home and job, they became homeless. Clyne and his family began to live out of their van in Florida. This instability would not change until 1998. 

He and his wife Angela were tired of being consumed by the substances. One day, they were watching television when a message came on called “Walk in Love.” They didn’t have a remote for the tv, so they couldn’t change the channel. The show played on. It spoke of freedom and a life of selflessness. Clyne described this program as a pivotal moment of life change for he and his wife. 

They threw out their drugs and their drinks, they started attending a small Assembly of God church in Witter and then in Huntsville, and they joined ministry work. In this, they received a lot of help from the churches to grow in sober living, in parenthood, and, now, as ministry workers.

Clyne was ordained as a minister in 2014 with Worldwide Missionary Evangelism.  Soon after, in 2015, he started Every Soul Matters as a disaster relief foundation. But, after a lack of funding, Clyne shifted the focus of his organization to the homeless. 

“I had a revelation that hurt my heart,” said Clyne. “Why am I going so far when there are those that need help right here?” 

Clyne stopped focusing on the big tragedies to find the small ones, the ones he says we all pass on the street corners.

Clyne spends a lot of time on this trail to connect with those in need. For this Friday, he walks the trail to share the news: On one Saturday of each month, Every Soul Matters hosts an event in Walker Park. This event is designed to meet many of their basic needs: medical attention, showers, food, clothing, haircuts, supplies, and friendship.

“A family reunion’ is the best way I can put it,” said Clyne. “You have these ten tables set up with all these chairs, sixty or seventy people eating at once. We have a lady playing worship music. We have a PA system where we’re directing them to the medical clinic and everything. People will give life-changing stories, on the microphone. It’s a family reunion.”

Clyne is passionate about meeting all their needs, especially friendship. He described our general attitude toward the homeless and disenfranchised to be “looking past them.” But, in Clyne’s holistic approach to helping the homeless, these Saturdays go beyond passing out food and T-shirts. This event is not merely a handout. The help he does for others is more than the number of care packages and meals he hands out in a given month. 

“We’re giving them a friendship,” Clyne said. “We’re talking to them. And not only that, but we’re listening to them. They want someone to listen to their story. They want to be listened to and to be seen as people.”

THE VAN

Early Saturday, Clyne wakes up at around 5:00 am in a hurry. He makes his way outside in the dark and cold to fill up the tanks for the large blue shower van.  “On these Saturdays, I don’t stop at all.” The rest of the rapid morning preparation is coordinating. Clyne directs volunteers to their stations. He checks on the clothing distribution van, the grilling tent, the coffee dispensers, the tables, the music, the mobile medical unit, and, this newest edition, his mobile shower van. 

Just before 9 a.m., Clyne gathers the nearly twenty volunteers in a circle. For a moment, all the moving and talking, cooking and organizing stops. All eyes look to Clyne at the head of the circle. He guides the group to act as one cohesive heart and mind in order to serve others. A single theme unites the volunteers: patient love, or long suffering. In this theme, Clyne prays for the day’s event to be one of kindness, hope, endurance, and patience for all those attending.

Just as Saturday’s event is kicking off, Clyne sends volunteers to walk the trail and invite the displaced for a final time. As one of the volunteers, I joined another named Larry Holliman. And, we started to make the same walk Clyne often does. Holliman first discovered Clyne’s ministry through other volunteers from his church, and he’s been helping every month for almost a year.  

“This is what Jesus does,” Holliman told me as we made the walk. “He meets people where they’re at. He went out into their space and communities and cared for them.” 

 Put simply, Larry says that Pastor Bradley sees a need and he fills it. Larry and I see two women sitting under a park pavilion shaking from the 26-degree weather. Larry invites them to join us and offers them coffee. One woman shakes her head softly back and forth, denying both offerings. The other gladly accepts some coffee, as she quickly picks up her head and smiles wide to Larry. They didn’t join us in the “family reunion.” But, one thing that Pastor Bradley said continually to me was, “We’re not here to force anything. We are just trying to love as Jesus did.” 

One reason for Clyne’s patient, gentle, and intentional outreach is sympathy. “They just can’t help it,” said Clyne, as he described their issues with substance abuse and lifestyle. Holliman explains that many of these individuals that Clyne cares for have mental issues, recently deceased family members, or have just given up on life. Another volunteer from Saturday, Karen Rodgers, said, “He (Clyne) has challenged us to look at these homeless as people, because they are, and because we must learn how to deal with people that have different challenges.” In other words, Clyne understands that these people have specific issues that can’t all be handled in the same manner. That’s why Clyne’s sympathy and compassion move in ways beyond a monthly event.  

Clyne goes to Walker Park and the Greenway every week. He brings snacks and a message of hope to the homeless there. Specifically, he says he’s often there to pick up anyone suffering from substance abuse issues in order to get them the help they want.

Clyne meets people in whatever need they have. One former homeless man named Tommy Randles has had Clyne as a continual friend in many seasons of his recent life. Randles traveled to Fayetteville from Arizona in 2021, and He lived out of his van here for a couple of years until he moved in with family in nearby West Fork.  During his homelessness in Fayetteville, he would attend Celebrate Recovery meetings in Walker Park held by Clyne. These meetings were for breaking habits of addiction or dealing with a hurt from one’s past. “Pastor Bradley exudes outgoing love that has a strength behind it,” said Randles.

While Randles would not go into detail on why he was at the meetings, he did explain it was a great help to him. Unfortunately, Randles went to jail soon after in 2022. But, he explains, Clyne was there after his sentence, keeping his van secure for Randles to pick up. Clyne even sent a tow truck to him soon after his release from prison. It picked up the stalled car he was in to take him to his parole meeting. Randles now works as a musician, playing at many of Clyne’s outreach programs. 

As a close friend and participant of Clyne’s outreach, Randles says that Clyne is not afraid to go into the “dark side of Walker Park” to get people the care they need. “Clyne’s help and heart go beyond a once-a-month event. If given the opportunity, he would be out all the time helping people.”  The early February ice storm in Fayetteville was one of those opportunities. Clyne bought hotel rooms for some of the homeless in danger of freezing to death. “We don’t need nice lights and theater seating to care for people,” Clyne said. 

Instead of a building they can come to, Pastor Clyne’s approach is to meet them in their space. “His approach is eye-opening, because it’s different,” said Holliman.  “Anyone can sign a check to help, but when you’re in the trenches with these people, sitting with them, listening, hugging them, it is just different.” This event shows this willingness to meet them in their space, as it takes place yards away from their camps.

Larry and I walk back as it begins. People emerge from the groves and camps near the trail and join us in our walk toward the echoing piano, the rising grill smoke, and Clyne’s big blue shower van.

THE CRASH

As the park event begins, people from all walks of life emerge in the center of this concrete slab on 13th and Block. The mobile medical unit pulls up to complete the carousel of care that surrounds them. Rotating in the center, there are women, men, families in need, pets, young loners, and elderly, all tired and cold. At the day’s peak of activity, there are close to eighty homeless individuals. Completing the circle around them, the volunteers walk around each station. Those serving are returning volunteers, nurses, gospel singers, cooks, hairdressers, and organizers.  Lines form at each station of the circle. The longest line forms in front of the clothing distribution van, where people wait patiently for an extra layer in the 30-degree weather. 

Clyne goes from one point of the circle to the next, guiding people to their needs. He answers any question, points in the necessary direction, and hugs the many familiar faces.  “It’s hugs all day long…I don’t know how many I give…almost to all of them. It doesn’t even matter who they are or what they smell like.”

At a stop, he pushes his long white hair out of his face and around the back of his hat, and he leans in close to those needing assistance. Then, he suddenly departs and bursts off in one direction to check that all needs are being met elsewhere. Randles says of Clyne, “He makes time for everybody. He is the busiest f—ing guy in the world. But, he does it with such grace. It shows the love he has for everyone.”

In one particular instance of this busy, graceful routine, Clyne showcases this heart. A volunteer group from Teen Challenge Adventure Ranch huddles around him. This ranch is a home to boys who have gotten in trouble with the law and/or their families. One of the kids is under the impression they are not going to get to wash the dogs that the homeless brought. Clyne is upset. Clyne is not going to let this promise of service and kindness be unfulfilled for the giver or the receiver. Motioning several of the teens with him, he darts in the direction of the shower trailer to set up the process. 

When I join Clyne later during lunch, he stares at me before motioning his eyes around the scene overtly, getting me to do the same. He explains to me the powerful picture in front of us. Many of the anxious faces arriving at the park, the ones that live in camps near the creek, cold and tired, are now eating, smiling, hugging, laughing, and singing. Arms are filled with friends, food, clothing, or a washed dog.

But, Clyne also described this event as draining. The excitement and service of Saturday turns into a depression on Sunday. One volunteer, Richard, and Clyne’s wife Angela spoke of this as a crash that hits them in the hours after the event ends.  This crash, as all three describe, is a realization of the life the homeless go back to and the life the volunteers go back to in their homes. Clyne says, “It’s unfair…I know that while I am sitting on my couch, someone else is lying on the pavement.” 

Sunday is a reminder that not every day of ministry is like Saturday’s event. “Not every day is going to be puppies and rainbows,” said Holliman. But, Clyne’s service and long suffering for them extends past Saturday’s exciting, impactful event.  Clyne prepares for the next week, where he distributes clothes and food to them, where he sees them in their hardship. “If we continue to love, we can show them that hope is there and change is possible.”