On a frigid Saturday afternoon in Midtown, Lizzy Cedeno appears immune to the cold. She dances as exuberantly as a Broadway hoofer, singing carols alongside the Salvation Army’s familiar red kettle outside the Fifth Avenue Apple store. Her attitude is infectious; passers-by liven their step and slip folded bills into the slot.
Among her comrades, Cedeno is regarded as the superstar of the season, which runs from Nov. 2 through Thursday. While the average Salvation Army bell-ringer in NYC — more than 1,000 are stationed at 271 locations citywide — is happy to score $200 to $300 per day, first-timer Cedeno has netted nearly $700 in an eight-hour shift.
“I dance like crazy, smile, sing along to the music, just keep moving around, and people seem to love it,” says the 19-year-old Harlem resident, who hopes to major in nursing at Lehman College.
Despite talk of bell-ringers working on commission — receiving a cut of the money they bring in — it’s a proven urban myth. Cedeno gets paid $9 per hour for the gig; many others volunteer their time.
“It makes me happy to be part of the community and to do something that can help people,” Cedeno adds. She notes that donations — which will contribute to hopefully topping the $2.1 million grossed by last year’s streetwise NYC crew — go beyond just cash. “A lady walked by today and handed me a coat that she wants to donate!”
There is speculation that Cedeno will be among the top-yielding bell-ringers this season. But she will have to dance her hardest to out-earn Oliver Canmore Barrow, 83, who brought in $10,000 while stationed in front of St. Patrick’s Cathedral during the 2014 season, including a single donation of five $100 bills.
Barrow is sitting out this season with leg problems, but his work serves as an inspiration for other ringers, including 27-year-old Gil, who declined to give her last name for personal reasons.
“A guy pulled up in a Suburban and his son walked over, holding a $100 bill,” says Gil. “He put it right into my kettle and I asked him if he wanted a lollipop. The boy thanked me and said no. That’s one good kid; he gives you $100 and won’t even take a lollipop.”
While the bell-ringers proudly rake it in this year (one man named Eric M., who is studying to be a pastor at the Salvation Army’s College for Officer Training, uses a stick to compress the cash in his kettle to make room for more), for some, the experience is priceless.
“I lived in Rockaway, got caught by Hurricane Sandy, and the Salvation Army was first in with blankets, food and clothing,” recalls Ramona Addison, 53, who currently lives in The Bronx and is stationed near St. Patrick’s. “Now I’m doing my part for them and seeing so many beautiful things out here.
“I’ve seen the homeless donating coins from their cups. That is the awesomest thing,” she says, wiping away tears. “They have nowhere to live and are still trying to help others who may be worse off. I want a heart like that.”