By late September, the striped umbrellas are folded, the taffy shops go dark and the only thing moving along the boardwalk is the autumn wind. That’s when the lines start forming — not at the seafood stands, but at the food banks.

The coastal summer vacation has long been a staple of middle-class Americana, but what happens when the tourists go home? What happens when the middle class isn’t so middle anymore, and the people who make those postcard-perfect towns run are left counting the dollars in their wallets — or the cans in their cupboards?

Across the country, the communities that thrive in July are tightening their belts by November. From the South Carolina Lowcountry to the Jersey Shore to the islands of Massachusetts, food banks are seeing year-round workers — teachers, servers, l

See Full Page