The 52-year-old owned a home in Indiana, where for 12 years he worked on the assembly line at a nearby Chevrolet plant. There, the native Tulsan installed seats on Chevrolet Malibus and Impalas. He made $32.50 an hour.

Then the economy sank, and Gillum, along with some 12,000 fellow employees, lost his job. Then he lost his home.

For the past eight weeks, Gillum has lived at Tulsa’s John 3:16 Mission, 506 N. Cheyenne Ave.

On Thursday he celebrated Thanksgiving with about 130 other homeless people at the mission, many of whom are simply going through a particularly rough time in a particularly bad economy, said the Rev. Steve Whitaker, the mission’s executive director.

“A lot of people think that the homeless don’t want to work,” Gillum said. “But that’s not true.”

Gillum, a college graduate, said he’s been looking for work constantly since he arrived in Tulsa, although he has yet to land anything steady.

He said he has family in town and that he keeps in touch, but “at my age, a person should be responsible for himself.”

Charities, churches and restaurants across Tulsa said they expected larger Thanksgiving dinner turnouts this year because more men and women are struggling in the slow economy.

But what many didn’t expect is an increase in volunteers and donations.

In the crowded halls at the John 3:16 Mission, dozens of volunteers hurried between the kitchen and cafeteria tables to serve a classic Thanksgiving dinner.

They carried plastic trays stacked with everything from green bean casserole and mashed potatoes to sweet potato casserole and turkey — 15 of which were prepared for the evening meal.

Sean Moore, the mission’s kitchen supervisor, said getting enough food wasn’t the problem. But preparing it all in the mission’s 300-square-foot kitchen was difficult.

Even Whitaker, who said the mission has held special Thanksgiving dinners for the past decade, said he was surprised by how much food and time people donated.

“People don’t have the margins that they had this time last year, but people continue to give and give generously,” he said.

Whitaker began the evening with a short sermon — a message of hope, as he called it. That was the basis for the night, he said.

“Our goal is to help them be loved, to show them dignity,” Whitaker said.

The mission provides assistance for those who are “situationally homeless.” They’re not mentally ill or chronically homeless, Whitaker said, and most get back on their feet within a year.

Gillum said he hopes things turn around by February.

Across town, folks at St. Peter’s Episcopal Church, 9100 E. 21st St., held a free Thanksgiving meal, as well.

About 40 peopled turned out for the 5 p.m. dinner, complete with turkey, dressing and pie. That’s more than turned out last year, the first time the church held the dinner, said Diane Zike, the church’s Thanksgiving coordinator.

Zike said the church hoped to provide a little comfort for those in need — including members of the church, the neighborhood and those who simply don’t have family in the area.

“St. Peter’s wants to be there for the people, both in our church and in our community,” she said.

Sixty-year-old Jeff Williams moved from Denver to Tulsa three weeks ago. He works for a commercial exhibitor, which gave him a turkey for the holiday. But with no family in the area and no place to cook it — he’s currently staying in a hotel — Williams decided to donate the bird to the church and attend its dinner.

“I thought it would be nice to come out and eat with people,” Williams said. “This is home-cooking. How could you argue with that?”

Next to Williams sat Robert Carroll, a long-haired 40-year-old wearing a T-shirt of the heavy metal band Iron Maiden. Carroll lives near the church, which helped him out several years ago when he couldn’t afford rent.

He’s been attending services sporadically ever since.

Like Gillum, Carroll, too, is looking for work, perhaps something he could do out of his home, he said.

“I guess this year I’m thankful I still have hope,” Carroll said.