Project Winter Watch, Oklahoma City, OK (2026)

01/26/2026

Balance can be the hardest part. How do you absorb-and-process the good and the bad? What’s the line to walk when you communicate these things back to your family and friends and giving community? Because this work is both, and my bark has gotten too hard to shy away from the awful. Both sides of that coin can-and-continue-to-exist in our city’s forgotten parts. It only further qualifies the need…so you do your best to sand the corners smooth.

Over the last weekend, so many of us stood at tent flaps, stared down into dug holes and tried to fill the gaps. You’d breathe the smoke of pallet fires, work hooked fingers straight (and apologize for the navigation needed to find the mitten holes) and tell our folks that the new bag you were handing them was rated for “true zero”, but couldn’t guarantee survival in what’s coming. You’d pet their dogs…the ones they’d wrap in their own down vests…and you’d move on to the next.

We’d see a man ‘cooking’ a frozen pizza by setting the box on fire under an underpass. I’d watch a woman set a dormant shrub on fire for heat. I’d managed Aaron’s hands into his new mittens…the same hands he’d been protecting in knotted plastic bags. We’d find a warm room for Mr. Smiley…a man living and dying between a freezer and a live bait tank. And a man would tug on my coat as I crawled out of his tent…”Do you have a child-sized jacket? My dog is pregnant and I want her to be warm.”

For me, this culminates in certainty. An actualization that I am owed nothing…no assurance-of-justice for our neighbors. Or that any of this awful needed to make much sense. But the grander questions hold no weight when you’re face-to-face. You trust your science and the gear and your ability to communicate. Then the only certainty that matters wins the day…that this work works. We need to be here. We HAVE to be here.

Before I left Aaron, he’d hug me. “I love you.” “Aaron, I love you too.” The thing is, he loves ALL of us. Everyone who decided to give to Project Winter Watch. Every person that decided to share a post. He loves you for loving those you’d never meet. You ARE the good in all the bad. I am simply the caffeinated messenger of your kindness.

Gang, we’ll keep after it.

Your fan,

rc

Venmo: rynosu
Cash App: $ryancristelli
Amazon Wish List: https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/2CTJDYMP8TMCB?ref_=wl_share

01/24/2026

Tried and heartbroken…but undeterred.

Day 2 ahead.

Venmo: rynosu
Cash App: $ryancristelli

01/21/2026

Project Winter Watch starts now.

I gotta be completely honest…I’m worried, too. We’ve all seen the upcoming weather, and we are all thinking the same thing. But the predictions only stoke the coals.

I’m going to do something that I’m terrible at…I’m going to keep things short. We will be out there. We’re going to face this one head on, and we’re going to save some lives. And that looks like a few things. One, providing for the providers. I will be meeting with several outreach teams, making certain they’re prepared to provide our neighbors with lifesaving items. Two, I’ll be there, too. Work will take me north in the coming days, but I’ll be back and running as hard as I can. Three…well, that’s kinda it. PWW has always been a bit of a blunt object. Find our most vulnerable folks and provide them with mountain-tested goods to keep them around longer…for another day-and-season.

This is us…ALL of us…at our best. Working-and-giving in the service of our fellow man…and at times, their furry companions.
The same mechanics-of-giving apply. You can donate through the Venmo handle below. The Amazon list is updated-and-sharp, and all items purchased through that list will land on my front patio…then it goes out with precision.

This year, we are staring with enough items to be very effective. This is due to a GENEROUS donation from Advance Wound Therapy. We have enough to start and start well. But rest assured, reserves will be depleted in a flash (most-likely by the weekend’s end)…and I am once-again asking for your help. The tangibility of your kindness that has saved countless lives and let so many know that they’re not so alone.
So…how was that for short?? I’m worried. I’m stressed…but I am fired up to the brink of tears! Gang, are we ready to do some good?!

You fan,
Ryan

Venmo: rynosu

Amazon Wishlist: https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/2CTJDYMP8TMCB?ref_=wl_share

02/16/2025

This line doubled…then tripled. But there was enough, and everyone left Feed His Sheep safer. It was a blur this morning…unboxing and packing the truck tight…but there was time to be together. To have brief conversations between gives, and to hug and hope for the best. So, so many of your contributions are now-and-throughout-this-coming-week wrapped around those in danger. And they are protected.

I’m now home and thawing…thinking deeper thoughts about the meaning of it all. But maybe it’s just this simple. We’re all worth saving, and we did something about it.

Onward.

02/12/2025

“It takes grace to remain kind in cruel situations.
Now that’s the bloody truth, innit?
Cuz kindness, mate, it ain’t weak. Nah.
It’s the quiet roar of strength.
When the world shows its teeth…
snarling and ready to bite.
It’s easy to grow claws in return.
But grace? Grace stands there battered and bruised,
and still chooses to extend an open hand.
That’s the real fight, isn’t it?
To stay soft. To stay human when life tries
to harden you into something less.
Grace, my friend, is the armor of the brave,
worn not for glory, but for the soul.”

I think the coldest corners of our city exist where overpasses meet intersections. I have no science to qualify it, but the concrete’s cooler. The wind is indiscriminate and seems to come from all sides...and that’s where I found them. We’d keep things quick…I could see mascara dripping down both cheeks. I’d put mittens on her hands while her pup’s meaty, spade-like noggin’ pressed into my thigh. I’d reach down and feel the scaring where the muscles met on her velvety forehead.

I’d leave the two with a zero-rated sleeping bag, four pairs of wool socks, hand warmers and the gloves I’d put on her hands. She’d hold my hand for just a bit…we wouldn’t say much of anything. It felt like communion. For-whatever-reason, I fixated on her chipped nail polish and the beaten ends of her fingers. I thought to myself, “she’s trying.”

To get home, I’d need to double-back to their corner. It hadn’t been more than 5 minutes, but the sleeping bag had been rolled onto the sidewalk. Before the light turned green, I’d watch the woman work her pup’s shivering back end between the open flaps. In all the cold and the wind and the fear, there was that. “Grace stands there battered and bruised, and still chooses to extend an open hand.”

Since Sunday, Project Winter Watch has supplied 68 zero-rated sleeping bags, 100’s of pairs of wool sock and gloves, 75 tarps and 1000’s of hand warmers to our most-vulnerable neighbors and partnering outreaches. It’s put a dent in things.

No actionable items, today…your gifts are still in slight surplus and I’ll stretch things thin to meet the coming cold. To every giver…thank you for wearing the armor of the brave.

Onward.

01/14/2025

Amodre was under three blankets and surrounded by throw pillows, mismatched shoes, wrappers and leftover food frozen to paper plates. From the parking lot, his place-in-this-world looked like a freezer-burned scoop of chocolate chip ice cream. The cold-and-snow was enough to create a crust that hadn’t penetrated his thin layers of protection. He was the most-alone person I’d encounter all day.

I’d walk from the truck…call him friend and ask how he was doing on warmth. Amodre would rise up and smile. I’d ask him about his fingers and toes. If he could stand a few more layers of warmth. I put gloves on his hands and hear him say “thank you” every time…for every finger that found the right hole. It’s a heck-of-a-thing to work fingers straight. You feel for pain points and resistance. Any “ow”. Nothing. He was patient with me and all 10 were accounted for.

“We did it!”

“We did. I like these gloves…they’re warm.”

I’d look him in his wet eyes. His pupils were deep and dark, surrounded by a pale pink. He had a beard with wispy white hairs that looked pencil-drawn, falling over his lips and spiraling around his chin. And for whatever reason…and only for a flash…I’d wonder what he was like as a kid. I don’t know why…but I did.

“My name is Ryan. I think I was supposed to find you today. Somebody wanted me to find you.”

“Do you think that’s true?”

“I do. I’ve never been to here before. But I found ya on a day like this. Someone told me you’d be here…and they were worried about you.”

And we’d just sit there together. The smile you see in the picture is the smile he gave me. And we’d sit a little longer. We really didn’t need to say much more. I’d make him promise me he’d sleep in the new sleeping bag and double up with his new socks. I’d tell him he mattered…that he’s loved, and I’d walk back to the truck.

“Goodbye Ryan…” I’d hear it when I reached for the door handle. And I’d think about him as a child again.

Every donation to Project Winter Watch was a donation to Amodre on the most dangerous day of the year. Thank every one of you for riding shotgun…

Onward.

Venmo: rynosu
Amazon Wishlist: https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/2CTJDYMP8TMCB?ref_=wl_share

01/05/2025

It goes by quickly.

I pulled into the parking lot 3 minutes late. The storage unit’s keypad was a block of ice, and it took a hand warmer to free the numbered keys…any sense of accomplishment was overshadowed by the heartburn of being behind. The trip to Dunlap Codding takes three songs. The Verve’s ‘Lucky Man’, Blind Melon’s ‘Change’ and Pearl Jam’s ‘Setting Sun’. The songs made me feel big…pulling up to the crowd made me feel outmatched. It always does.

I found my usual spot at the northern edge…took a deep breath and circled around to the tailgate. The line was 20 folks deep…then 30…then 40. “If it’s not too much trouble, can I have two hand warmers and a sleeping bag?” The man at the front of the line’s voice was low and pushed through tight chapped lips. He’d grab my wrist and lean in…”is that too much? I don’t need much.” “No friend…it is not. Let’s get ya situated.” I’d hand him 10 hand warmers, a new Teton sleeping bag and direct him directly behind me where two folks were helping pass out Thinsulate mittens and pairs of wool socks.

It went like this for a little over an hour. I’d hug familiar friends and upsell gloves-on-hands that I knew wouldn’t take the cold. And in a blink…the line was gone. One Coleman bag remained in the passenger seat. One pair of gloves and 3 pairs of socks were left in the bin. My fingernails felt electric and the cold burned my eyes red…and we’d done it. Gifts to were already in practice. Already protecting in the tangible. If you’ve ever given to the project, you rode shotgun this morning, and you told our most vulnerable neighbors that they’re not so alone. Not so insignificant…worthy of love and protection. You see when you pull a new 0-degree bag from its plastic…snap the tag off a new pair of mittens…tell them that you’d missed them and you’d see them down the road.

It’s cold and windy and this morning’s visit to Feed His Sheep went by quickly. But every giver to Project Winter Watch made sure it mattered. Our neighbors will sleep within your protection tonight.

And it’d take 3 turns of Nina’s Simone’s cover of ‘Here Comes the Sun’ to make it home.

Venmo: rynosu

Amazon Wishlist: https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/2CTJDYMP8TMCB?ref_=wl_share

01/02/2025

The dangerous cold is coming, so here we go…out into it.

Time tends to make things change. This really isn’t the case with Project Winter Watch. A bit of the secret sauce is in the mission’s streamlined mechanics. Dollar for dollar, everything is spent. Every give goes to the neediest of hands. The project buys-and-provides cold weather gear that works when it’s supposed to. When it has to. The cold is an awfully efficient taker, and we’re providing items that keep fingers and toes as they should be. Free of frostbite and attached. We’re buying down-packed barriers that keep our neighbors alive in the temps that take them from us. This hasn’t changed. We travel to forgotten corners of our city and make the stops when necessary. We attend known gatherings and feeds and visit with our unhoused neighbors. We provide them with Thinsulate wool gloves, socks, 0-degree sleeping bag (tight, packable and weather resistant), tarps and hand warmers. Items that handle weather and beat back the elements. This is how this work, and this will not change this winter.

We also partner with known-and-trusted outreach organizations, large and small. We stock cold-weather pantries for healthcare providers, all in the efforts to increase our footprint. The good must go around, and it needs to be done in the most responsible and efficient manner possible.

At our very best, PWW and its providers are buying two things…time and chance. Another day, week, month or year for folks to find more-permanent solutions…treatment, reunions and housing. A chance not only for them, but a chance for us to be at our best. The folks we’d always hoped we would be…giving. To stand in the way of the bad, and practice in our most tangible superpower. Kindness.

We start now, and I’ll be out there. I ask you to stand with me and to give when you can. Monetary donations can be made to the Venmo handle, below. I’m also including the ever-important Amazon Wishlist.

Time does change things, but it will never change this non-negotiable fact. The biggest heroes at Project Winter Watch are those that provide to it.

Let’s be at our most-wonderfully consequential. Let’s get to work.
Venmo: rynosu
Amazon Wishlist: https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/2CTJDYMP8TMCB?ref_=wl_share

01/22/2024

As best I can figure, the majority of this work condenses down into two buckets of emotion…love and fear. Both equally as activating for the givers and receivers. Both pure, maybe making things a little less complicated in all this cold. For now, I’m standing on this foundation, maybe selfishly, to better understand all this hurt.

For a good-many folks, fears of violence, emotional instability and/or losing their camps-and-valuables…the items they’ve bled for…keep them put. It’s enough to plant them in the elements that blacken their body parts and take their lives. Fear. Inversely, they won’t leave someone behind…furry or furless, a partner blocks-or-miles away. They’ll tell without doubt in their eyes…a soloist move to shelter will not be happening. Love…the non-negotiable kind.

For the givers, the same emotions apply. Fear that we will lose souls in the taking temperatures. Fear that the mechanics of our projects are not finding the individuals that need us the most, in the very moments they need us the most. We usually get one shot with folks in transit…and when we miss, it slides down your throat like a Brillo Pad. But fear is only a byproduct of love. A result of a deep give-a-damn for us…ALL of us. The greatest motivator…it runs up my spine and coats my skull. It beats behind my breast plate and aches at the boarders of my shoulder blades. I am very un-unique in this feeling. It is love…the most potent-and-needed fuel. And these days have been the hardest.

I stopped at a ‘camp’ steps away from an interstate on-ramp. It was last light and the last stop of the evening. A small tent sat centered in a loosely-fortified structure of foam, shopping carts and a broken bike. Overpasses are the coldest places. I’d hoped no one was around. I bent down to a small opening of the flap and smelled the flame first. Oil was burning in small pie tin, and I could make out the shadow of a man. I’d offer him the works, passing each item through the tiny opening. He’d muster broken ‘thanks’ between fits of coughing. The sleeping bag came last, and I’d need a bigger gap in the flap. Inch-by-inch, we’d work a broken zipper until the opening was large enough for the frosty-apricot muzzle of a dog. A wet nose pressed against my bare fingers. There were two souls in the tent, and the world felt only as big as the three of us. I’d work fast to keep too much cold air from entering the tent.

I checked on the camp the following day. The tent was gone, and another man was picking pieces of cloth from a melted pile of fabric. “…friend, how are you doing on warmth?”

Love and fear.

This morning I am powered by gratitude…and four coffees. And in all the ice and the grey, I turn to Del Griffith (John Candy). “Love...is not a big enough word. It's not a big enough word for how I feel…” This is all a feeling bigger for the givers and the receivers. But for now…and until I can find a better alternative…I love you all for who you are, and what you have done in these days. Warmer temps are soon to come, and we’ll be ready for when they turn again.

Onward.

rc

Venmo: rynosu
Amazon Wish List: https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/2CTJDYMP8TMCB?ref_=wl_share

Feed His Sheep
Sandwiches With Love
Second Chances Thrift Store
Jodi Berge

01/12/2024

From sunup to sundown, we’ll be out there. For them. We’ll work the most important problem. I’m fear-filled, and that’s a hell of a motivator.

To every incredible outreach, I’ll see you in the field, and don’t hesitate to raise a hand for needed items.

And to every giver to Project Winter Watch, these are the days…the reasons you gave. You are the barriers and the protectors of people we may have lost otherwise. Know you’re playing the most critical part…and the project is in your service. We got you. And I love you all.

Onward.
rc

Venmo: rynosu
Amazon Wish List: https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/2CTJDYMP8TMCB?ref_=wl_share

01/05/2024

When I’m making rounds, I look for damage. For labored gaits, worn clothing and tattered fabric stretched against fences and structures. I look for the hurt, and I found it in soft sun two days back. Bone-deep impact scaring that zig-zags like river bends seen from above. Hard hands covered in dirt, ash and sores. Broken things on people. It came in spades in parking lots and alleys and fields.

After an evening out, I stopped by a small park. A comforter was draped over a shopping cart, falling atop 4 pieces of particle board stacked on their edges like playing cards. The ‘tent top’ was wedged into the corner of a retaining wall and stairs.

I’d do what I always do…I would volley, “friend, how are you doing on warmth”, at the small structure and wait. Cynthia would slowly lift the flap…”hi.” She is small and younger than I had imagined…or will ever imagine. Her outfit of thin canvas and ripstop wasn’t ready for the cold that’s coming, and her tiny body sat flat on the pavement. I’d introduce myself and sit down next to her…I must have seemed small to her, too. She asked if I was alone or with a team she couldn’t see.

“It’s just me, tonight. But I have a team, and they have some things for you.” She’d stop me before I could reach for the gloves and socks. She wouldn’t except anything she couldn’t afford. She’d spent her last $6 on food. I saw a small, flattened pizza box off her left hip. Breakfast, lunch and dinner.

“Cynthia, payment ain’t a part of it. These things are yours…I’m just making the delivery.” She wasn’t convinced, but I’d take the mittens out of their packaging, opening the finger holes to show her the thick layers of wool. I’d describe how amazing they’d feel once she put them on. She’d take the pair and smile. The socks proved to be a harder sell, and no matter the rich description, she would politely shake her head ‘no’. She’d do the same with the sleeping bag…but that transaction was a non-negotiable. I’d tell her about the temp rating…its weather durability-and-pack-ability. How it would keep her safe and warm. How the dangerous times were coming, and that this would keep her alive. Again, she was polite but hesitant. I gave it one last shot.

“Cynthia, this is mummy bag. It’s thick and fits tight to you. It’s like a hug.”

“…it’s like a hug?”

“Yea! It’s kinda like a hug…”

She’d smile…and pause…and gently reach for the bag and pull it tight to her chest.

“Like a hug…I think I’ll take the socks then, too.” We'd sit for a bit in comfortable silence.

I'd tell her I’d see her again and make the park a frequent stop. I helped re-stack her particle-board ‘wind block’ and leave her with a, “now get those gloves on, homegirl!”…but to only steady my emotions. She'd smile and let out a tiny giggle, letting the comforter fall back to the ground.

Some broken things you can’t see. And sometimes the project provides more than barriers between cold and flesh. Protecting Cynthia’s doll-like hands was only the half of it.

I’d whisper, “like a hug”, in the cab of my truck and head home.

Every single give to Project Winter Watch was Cynthia’s gift. In a day’s last bit of light, there you all were. In a park…her somebody.

This will be a long winter. They will need us, and I hope you continue to give and spread the word. I will go anywhere…talk to any group…take any call to raise the critical funding. Just point me in a direction.

To the givers, you are everything…you always have been.

Onward and with love,

rc

Venmo: rynosu
Amazon Wish List: https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/2CTJDYMP8TMCB?ref_=wl_share

12/24/2023

So this is Christmas…

It’s Christmas eve, and Project Winter Watch made its first Feed His Sheep of the season. I am a mush…I was full of feelings on the ride downtown. Luckily, Louis’ ‘Cool Yule’ pulled me out of a steep emotional decent. Now look…I don’t blame Nat’s ‘The Christmas Song’ that played prior…I’m just a sucker for that version. I pulled into a familiar spot and told myself to be intentional with setting up…”don’t rush”…”you brought enough”…”you’re seeing your friends…chin up!” I was deliberate and paced and put goods in a fashion where they could be shopped by our neighbors.

Friends, you provided more than enough. What’s been given by you in the past few weeks, and what remained from last winter’s inventory met every moment. Covered every soggy foot…every chapped and cracked hand. I’d hand over a bag…tell them about its properties and how it works when it has to. When our folks realize there is no catch…this was now their’s…a thing always happens. You get a stare. And within seconds the stare softens. Their eyes get a coat. You get a hug, and you feel the damp fabric over bony shoulder blades. But there is such warmth. Then I have the privilege of turning around and doing it again.

In all of this, I think of you. What you may’ve hoped for when you sent a donation or ordered items from the wish list. I’m here to say…it is what you hoped it would be. This evening and tomorrow…Christmas Eve and morning…your hopes and gifts will be wrapped tightly around those with so little. They are protected. They are loved and seen and not so alone. Your grace provided on the most magical of days. I don’t know how else to put it. Maybe there’s no other way of putting it…and that’s fine by me.

When I pulled out of the lot (aimed towards apple fritters and doughnut holes), one of the men waived me down. He’d been given the works. I stopped and opened the door. I remembered his patience and how our conversation was brimming with positivity…how he’d end every sentence with a laugh of such sincerity, and how his bent body was pulling a shopping cart.

“I just wanted to say Merry Christmas. That’s all my friend.”

He’d have to wait of a response. He’d circumvented every emotional safeguard. I’d sturdy. “…well…I think that’s everything. Merry Christmas to you…”

So this is Christmas, and what have you done? Friends, let your hearts be light. Today and on through the winter, you have changed the world.

Merry Christmas, gang…I love you all.

rc

Venmo: rynosu
Wish List: https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/2CTJDYMP8TMCB?ref_=wl_share

Project Winter Watch

01/26/2026

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