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BENTON, Ill. — They say the most incredible thing to happen around here was in September 1963, when a mysterious young man from overseas visited his sister, Louise, whose husband worked in local mining.

Louise’s brother was 20. In a band. He even played a little guitar with some Benton locals during his trip.

His name was George Harrison.

Five months later, in February of 1964, he made a second trip to America. This time, he came with three friends.

But really, the most incredible thing that happened around here still happens. Every day. So often, in fact, that it’s just become part of the community’s flow. It’s simply, albeit beautifully, Greg being Greg.

A lifelong St. Louis Cardinals fan, 41-year-old Greg Poole has accumulated a massive baseball card and memorabilia collection. He runs a popular shop called Can’s Can — online, too — and even sells specialized card packs at the Cardinals team store in Busch Stadium.

Over the years, Poole has raised $700,000 through the store.

And he donated all $700,000 to his community.

“My 10-year-old daughter says it’s the worst business plan ever,� Poole said with a light laugh. “She tells people, ‘He makes no money!’�

Poole is not a rich man. In this Southern Illinois town, 100 miles from St. Louis, he works as a network manager for a special education co-op, while his wife, Courtney, is special education teacher. But he is driven to serve — enthusiastically, constantly and sometimes secretly, like he’s Santa Claus (except his bushy beard is reddish-brown).

“What makes Greg’s efforts so special is how rare it is for one person to give so much, simply out of generosity,� said Jenna Janello, a kindergarten teacher in Benton. “He shows a spirit of charity. And it truly makes a lasting difference.�

So in what ways does Poole pour the money into Benton and the region, which is mostly rural and expands 120 miles?

Well, in a room next to his shop, he has a center for school supplies, which he gives to teachers for free. For students of all grades, there are backpacks and books, headphones and hygiene products (and, of course, a bunch of baseball card packs because “that was what I loved growing up,� Poole said).

Really, it looks like a mini-Target in there, except — again — it’s all free. Teachers arrive on scheduled days. And he’s donated to 700 classrooms in 60 school districts.

In another room, he has resources for underserved community members, “from birth to 103, that’s our oldest,� Poole said. “In our area, there’s just not a whole lot of social service things anymore.�

So Poole took it upon himself to provide everything from diapers and toys and winter coats for kids, and for an older crowd, everything from blankets to laundry detergent to Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, “our No. 1 requested snack from seniors.�

Poole also discovered that many seniors in a local assisted living home had to provide their own toilet paper, so he prioritized that.

All for free. Everything is free.

He has also purchased beds for foster children, delivered meals to the hungry and created Christmas experiences for all ages.

“Our goal,� Poole said, “is to never say ‘no.’ And no matter who we’re serving, we want it to be, we want them to retain their dignity. Yeah. And so, I mean, I don’t sneak in chimneys or break into houses like Santa, but we do try to serve them without making a big deal about it.�

Sometimes, if a certain kid needs a bicycle, Poole will buy a bike, give it to a teacher and have the teacher pick the predetermined kid’s name out of a bowl of names.

Or when Poole sees someone eating alone at a restaurant, Poole will tell the waiter he’d like to pay that person’s bill.

“I reached out to him about a kiddo that just was walking down the hall in these shoes that are literally falling apart,� said Julie Patrick, a high school teacher, who first heard of Poole as the acclaimed cupcake baker for a particular fundraiser. “And he’s like, ‘Yep, I can do that.’ He had shoes shipped directly to my high school with my name on it — and got those shoes to that kid.�

The card packs sold at Busch Stadium are organized and packaged by his wife’s students with special needs — it teaches them job and life skills, he said. Each pack contains one card with either an autograph or authentic game-used relic.

With the energetic help of the Cardinals’ Linda Johnson, Poole’s packs were put on sale in the stadium. Thirty bucks each. And $17.50 goes right into Poole’s pool of money to buy goods and resources.

He hoped to sell 500 packs this season — he did so by the All-Star break.

It’s just nonstop charitable efforts.

Poole devotes his life to helping people.

Which makes it overwhelming to think he once tried to end his life.

As a boy, Poole always loved cards and the Cards. Willie McGee was his favorite player. Loved Ozzie, too. And even the heart of Bo Hart. Poole also played a bunch of ball as a boy. He’s one of those people who just “gets� baseball — its history, its culture, its complexity and its simplicity.

“I mean, you can’t not be romantic about baseball,� he said, while surrounded by memorabilia in the back of his shop.

But his childhood was compromised.

“Sexually abused,� Poole said. “From about 6 to 15. ... By a family friend. Growing up, a lot of trauma. ... Baseball and collectibles really were an escape.�

Poole turned 16 in 2000.

“Suicide became an option,� Poole said. “(Sexual abuse) messes with your wiring. And so, yeah, it was a way out. It sounds cold when you say like that. But at that point, it was the only way I knew. ... Like, you just don’t talk about (sexual abuse). It’s really hard to approach your parents, especially as a boy. And 25 years ago, a different world, things aren’t as open. It (felt like) a shameful thing.�

At the time, the high schooler Poole was involved in a “Meals on Wheels� program. He even sold baseball cards to make money to purchase some charitable meals. It was one of the last things he did before attempting to kill himself.

“After it didn’t succeed,� Poole said, “I started anew in October 2000. So it’s about to be the 25th anniversary.�

Instead of an epitaph, there was an epiphany.

He realized his childhood card collection could lead to more food and goods for others.

“I still had boxes of cards left,� he said. “I looked at them and thought: That’s a reason that I’m here, to try to do as much good as I could while I was here.�

While sharing his story, he referred to a different Christmas character — Jimmy Stewart’s George Bailey in “It’s A Wonderful Life.�

The first big, charitable purchase Poole made in 2000 was a set of tires for an elderly woman in town. He hasn’t stopped giving.

“This has been a journey for me,� said Poole, who had positive experiences with counseling and speaking with others. “And part of discussing what we do to help others means sharing our stories. We’re guys, and so, like, there’s a stigma. And a lot of people have reached out since. They’re like, ‘Hey, same thing (happened to me).’ Like, it’s not an exclusive club. But nobody talks about it. And so part of what we do is using that platform.�

He is a survivor and an inspiration.

Generosity is in his genes.

Seven hundred thousand dollars. All to his community.

It’s incredible.

“I hate to say ‘I,’� Poole said, while pointing out the altruistic help from his family and his wife’s family. “And we never try to, like, beat our own drum.�

Well, allow me to be Ringo Starr this time.