It's 9:30 in the morning, and a pep rally is already underway at the Salvation Army headquarters in Grass Valley.

Bellringers are finishing their breakfast, and numbers fly as Capt. Don Sheppard reads yesterday's totals at the kettles.

One person brought in nearly $300, and when Sheppard reads the number, the room erupts in hearty claps and back-pats.

“What we're getting here is not just the food. He gets us all going,” said veteran bellringer Yvonne Galloway.

In past years, bell ringers didn't find out how much their kettles took in each day, Galloway said. This year, they're getting pumped by the friendly competition on their way to reaching the Salvation Army's biggest goal on record — $75,000 countywide.

Some of the money will go to pay the bell ringers themselves. Most are not volunteers, after all — they're usually people who have had trouble getting or holding down a job.

Sometimes they don't have a car, have a checkered past or a disability that makes them unemployable.

“We work with them for six weeks,” Sheppard said. “We're making sure they're getting work history and getting used to getting up every morning.”

At headquarters, they fuel up on thick slices of French toast smothered in butter and scalding cups of black coffee.

As Sheppard leads them in a devotion and prayer, they're bundled up in scarves, flannel shirts, knit hats.

They've got a long day ahead of them, and they're going to need all the help they can get.

After they pick up their silver bells and load the red kettles and stands into a 15-passenger van, bellringers climb aboard. Many don't have access to cars.

Sheppard drives them around the county, dropping them off at major stores and post offices.

Dave Frater is a first-time bell ringer, and he's posted in front of Raley's Supermarket in Grass Valley wearing a flannel shirt, baseball cap and blue Salvation Army apron.

It's only been a few days, but he already knows his territory.

“Everybody's got turkeys and stuffing in their carts,” he observes, tinkling the bell and leaning his weight on a mountain of Diet Coke cases.

He waves and hollers hellos at the employees pushing long trains of carts from the parking lot.

A woman stops by to donate. She's wearing a jaunty black hat, and Frater takes notice.

“Your husband's a lucky guy,” he says with a smile.

Behind Frater's cheerful greetings are a history of tough times. A Nevada Union graduate and longtime resident of Lake Wildwood, he loves golfing and owned a video store in Penn Valley.

Then tough times struck. A bad relationship and a bad investment later, the 45-year-old is caught in financial troubles and is on the outs with family members. He's staying with a friend and working with Salvation Army staff to get back on his feet.

Right now, he said, he's using the minimum-wage earnings just to survive. Next on his list is getting car insurance so he can drive again, and outfitting his truck with tires.

“It's a chance to make a little money and relieve the pressure I'm going through,” said Frater, who picks up extra shifts at the kettle whenever he can. “I just want to start over.”

Many shoppers thank him and drop in coins and bills. But bellringing is not always easy. Some customers are rude, and one cursed at him. Days are long, especially for the feet.

“After the first day, I didn't know if I could handle it,” he said. “I was fatigued.”

Asked if he plans to finish out the season — another five weeks — he pauses.

“My goal is yes,” he said. “I feel that if I was not to complete the whole season, I'd be a disappointment.”

He looks out on the Raley's parking lot, the silver bell still jingling, and reconsiders.

“You can change that,” he said. “I'm going to make it.”

The Grass Valley Corps' $75,000 goal this year is lofty — the most they've made in any past campaign has been $55,000.

“Our needs have increased twofold,” Sheppard said. There are families to house, feed and clothe, and kids to send to summer camp.

“We were wondering where we're going to generate the additional resources,” he said.

Sheppard's wife, Capt. Martha Sheppard, said businesses and managers have been gracious in supporting the kettle drive.

“We're part of the Christmas season,” she said. “It's not Christmas until you hear the bells.”

For Frater, it's both a steady income and a chance to do something meaningful.

“You come out here and it's a battle and you feel like you're on a mission,” he said. “It's a great cause.”

There's also another hidden benefit, bellringer Galloway explained.

“It's the only way you can say ‘God bless you' and people don't get offended,” she said.

To contact Staff Writer Michelle Rindels, e-mail mrindels@theunion.com or call (530) 477-4247.