As Hurricane Sandy bore down on the East Coast that October Monday, Spencer Potts '92 was 3,000 miles away from New York. But once the storm's grave impact was evident, Potts's birthday celebration in San Francisco gave way to a frantic search for a way home. He had work to do.

Beyond his day job with investment firm Silver Creek Capital, Potts is co-chair of The River Fund NY, the city's only mobile food pantry—"mobile" meaning that rather than a standard soup kitchen, the River Fund goes where it's needed. Founded and led by Swami Durga Das, the Queens-based organization has been feeding hungry New Yorkers since 1991.

Potts has been involved with the River Fund NY for the past two years. After the better part of a decade battling Lyme disease gave Potts a new appreciation for good health, the former history major approached his milestone 40th birthday intending to make a change. Always philanthropic, he wanted to do something more direct than writing checks—and he wanted to do it locally.

His colleague and close friend Mike Tiedemann, who had found the River Fund online during his own similar search for a way to give back, connected Potts with Das. Over two decades, the charismatic social worker had refined the River Fund into a well-oiled mobile machine, feeding an astounding 140,000 people annually with only about a dozen volunteers. "It was very grassroots. Swami built something from nothing, and somehow was able to attract people who wanted to give," says Potts.

Potts, a hedge fund manager with an extensive fundraising background, saw immediately that the River Fund would benefit from more than just his volunteer hours: he could also offer a big-picture vision, helping to shape the organization and attract substantial donors. Working with Tiedemann, he helped transform the River Fund from a skeleton group of dedicated volunteers to an organized nonprofit with a five-person board and a payroll, while simultaneously raising the River Fund's profile to potential donors. When major philanthropic player the Robin Hood Foundation, a major philanthropic player, chose to donate, says Potts, "they'd never given to an organization this tiny."

Potts and Tiedemann also approached fundraising in a different way. Rather than "traditional fundraisers about hitting a goal on a 'funding thermometer' ...[it's] more about building a core group of highly energized, socially active 'ambassadors' for the River Fund," says Otto Starzman, chief production officer. "[The] events were more about fun—to encourage relationship-building—rather than about 'guilting' attendees into writing checks." The strategy worked. Two fundraisers under the "Hunger to Hope" banner netted a combined $90,000 in 2012. The second one, in fact, was scheduled for the weekend after Sandy, and they almost canceled it. But then the power came back on, and with it, a sort of emotional light—and a subsequent energy that continued to fuel volunteer efforts long after the fundraiser.

Potts finally made it out of San Francisco on the Thursday after Sandy, flying into Boston and—despite the city’s temporary ban on low-occupancy cars—driving the rest of the way into New York. "I was out in Coney Island by Saturday," he says, unprepared for the shock of what he would see. "People could reach out their second-floor window and touch water." Local dumpsters and cars were—and still are—unaccounted for.

Thanks to its mobility, the River Fund was able to reach affected areas quickly, often before official help could arrive. In his role as volunteer coordinator, Potts is charged with making sure the right number of people show up at the right time—making calls, arranging transportation (car ownership is not a given in New York), and ensuring that there's enough manpower at hand to set up the River Fund's station. "We're like a special ops team," Potts says. At Coney Island that Saturday morning, Potts arrived with the team. Bags and boxes were unpacked with military precision and within minutes, residents were lined up to accept food as well as blankets, flashlights, toilet paper, even condoms—all provided by donors. Potts took his place at the head of the line to greet and chat with the River Fund's clients; it's exactly this kind of human connection he values most about his work. "Spence is approachable and responsive, not only to the staff of the River Fund but also to our clients," says Das. "When he's on the food distribution line, he's so charming and treats all of our clients with respect and warmth."

Beyond food, the River Fund has grown to offering a range of social services for those who need it, such as tax assistance, emergency cell phone access, or help applying for food stamps.

The following weekend, the River Fund set up in Rockaway, another hard-hit coastal area. As it's become clear that Sandy recovery won't be accomplished overnight, the organization has had a regular presence on the coast as well as the Richmond Hill neighborhood of Queens where the River Fund is based. In December alone—a month when much of the houses damaged by Sandy still didn't have heat—the group delivered groceries to 14,751 households (or 46,131 individuals), and five gift-giving events provided some 20,000 toys to almost 8,000 children. According to Starzman, "This phenomenal volume of relief could not have been accomplished by an organization as small as ours without the support of the volunteers we were able to attract"—largely thanks to Potts.

For his part, Potts, who has decided to leave his investment firm to concentrate on more entrepreneurial endeavors, considers his involvement in the River Fund a gift. "I wish I could do more," he says. "I feel like everyone should be involved in something local. Nothing can replace that human connection. When we all connect, it compounds on itself and becomes exponential—even viral." ~