When Wayne MerrilI started Sunday Suppers in 1990, he was working out of the back of his Honda Civic. With the rear seat down, he could get one soup pot, one sandwich box and the supplies in the back.

In a couple of weeks, he decided to get a station wagon.He bought a green 1970 Buick station wagon with over 100,000 miles for $375 at the weekly Goodwill auction at the Goodwill store and car lot at the intersection of V ST & Bladensburg RD, NE. He had a flat tire driving it away from the lot. By the time he got it past MD inspection, he had about $1,000 in it. A volunteer persuaded (she said "by wearing her miniskirt") her neighbor to fabricate an illuminated Sunday Suppers sign for the roof. It made it look like a taxi. For the next 7 years, Wayne had people trying to flag me down for taxi rides.He also put 2 outdoor flood lights on the roof to light up the serving area. He had to keep the motor running while we served or all the lights would kill the battery. The first week with the flood lights, we needed a jump start from a cop. If you ask around, old timers will remember the green station wagon. It was more memorable and identifiable than the generic, non-descript white van even with the SS lettering on the sides and rear. When the Buick finally died in 1997, to be replaced by the first van, he donated it back to Goodwill.

There used to be a used car dealer named Mohammed on NY Ave at 4th ST, NW. He used to give Sunday Suppers $100 in cash every week or 2. He got most of his cars at an auction in NJ. The auction got them from dealers who had taken them in trade. When Wayne asked him about a van, Mohammed offered to take him along an auction trip.But Wayne would have to have cash. Wayne recalls:

I was prepared to spend $7,000 but I wanted to deduct it as a donation to Sunday Suppers. So I called ahead to the bank where I did my personal banking and notified them that I would need $7,000 in cash from my personal checking account the next day. The next day I went to the bank and withdrew the $7,000 in cash.I walked across the street to the bank that held the Sunday Suppers checking account, getting a receipt I could use for documentation. The teller assured me that because the deposit was in cash, the deposit would be effective immediately and I could withdraw it from the SS account. So I wrote a Sunday Suppers check to cash for $7,000 and walked out with the cash. The next day, Mohammed picked me up in his roll-back truck and we went to the auction in NJ. He advised me which van to buy: a 4-year old 1993 with 50,000 miles on it. I gave him the cash and he did the bidding. The dealer who was selling the van wanted more than $7,000 and pulled it out of the auction when nobody would bid his minimum ("reserve") price. Mohammed went to him outside and made a side deal for the $7,000 cutting out the middle man's (auction's) commission. Mohammed picked up 2 cars. He loaded one on the roll-back and hitched a tow bar to the other. I drove the van home.

When I got the bank statement of the SS account, I found out the check for $7,000 to cash had bounced. They charged SS an overdraft fee and treated it as a loan with interest that had been accruing daily. My protests, in person, with receipts showing cash deposit and times, were futile. It wound up costing a couple of hundred dollars to close the account. I had to open a new account with Chevy Chase for the second time. The same sort of problem had occurred with Chevy Chase, forcing me to close that account and open a new one with Bank of America. I had received a donation check that bounced. I had written checks against it. I was charged a bounce fee, an overdraft fee and interest accruing daily.

Sunday Suppers ran out of the white van from for twelve years. It is still functioning, but was replaced by a red Ford Econoline in the summer of 2009. The new executive director, Phill Starling, had been eyeing replacement vans for a while. Luckily, he had an auto enthusiast on the volunteer roster in James Faconer. James volunteered to peruse the Washington Post classifieds every day until something just right popped up. After seeing the ad and checking the van out himself, James called Phill and said, “this is the one, buddy.” The price was right - $1,400. Phill bought the van and got it registered in his name. Another volunteer, German Noriega, sponsored professional preparation of the logo and fabrication of the decals that now adorn the sides and rear of the van.