Ain't Easy in the Big Easy

We left early as another storm was predicted to arrive in the afternoon. It was only about a 90 mile drive and the wind, felt at times, was not a factor. Barb guided me down I-10 which included a long bridge across the edge of Lake Pontchartrain. I wondered, at first, why the lack of traffic. Discovery soon made. There is much construction on the bridge and we were stopped for around 30 minutes. As we were able to proceed, traffic became intense and the roads were very bumpy. Elevated highways took us part of the way through New Orleans. Empty neighborhoods were frequent, homes and apartments standing abandoned. A Wal-Mart and the huge 7 Flags Amusement Park (which never opened) appeared to be ghost towns. The rough, congested and narrow highways transformed into congested city streets.

Our campground is in the Jefferson Parish, just a block from the Mississippi. We can see the dikes from our campsite. Barb and I boarded our bikes to brave the wind and explore the area. A paved bike trail tops the levy and we rode the level trail. Views of the wide expanse of water and the huge cargo ships were limited by the trees along the banks and our ride was short due to the wind.

It is 4:30, the wind continues and the rain is beginning to fall. Thunder can be heard and memories return of that day in Panama City. Tonight will not be like that night and the sun is expected to shine tomorrow.

Esther, Lewis, Brett, Sherman, Grant and Trent

March 2, 2008

We decided to vacate the RV for two days and drive the Jeep the 170 miles north to visit Barb’s Uncle Lewis and Aunt Esther in Jackson, MS. We missed the bypass and drove through Hattiesburg which is the home of the University of Southern Mississippi. Brett Favre’s name was posted in many areas. The main street of the town passes in the shadow of the football stadium, definitely the town’s landmark. The landscape was flat land giving way to gentle hills. Again, land that was dominated by cotton plantations in the early 1800’s, is now covered with pines.

Esther drove us out to the Vicksburg Civil War battlefield. This battle, with fewer losses of life than Gettysburg or Antietum, went on for 9 months and ended with Sherman and Grant finally forcing a Confederate surrender. It was the beginning of the end as with the loss of the Mississippi, the South was then completely surrounded, unable to ship supplies. Then Sherman left Vicksburg beginning his march to the sea using the scorched earth policy that burned Atlanta and almost everything else in his path. A unique aspect of this battle was the involvement of the Navy. The Union lost one of its first ironclad ships here. It was not until 1960 that the ship was raised from the Mississippi bed.

We spent much of the weekend with Esther telling Barb old family stories, many about her father Vic. Esther, in her lively humoresque, bounced from one story to another, keeping Barb and me in stitches. I asked her, “So, besides Katrina, what are the leading Mississippi news stories?” “The best one is our boy, Brett (Favre, he grew up in Kiln, near Biloxi). Didn’t he have a fine year? The sad story is Trent Lott. It looks like he was involved in that insurance deal. It is too bad. He did so much for Mississippi. I hope it is not true.” (Trent Lott’s home is in Pascagoula, near where we worked, and his home was totally destroyed by the storm.)

We found the drive pleasant. However, as in Georgia, the logging trucks speed along at about 70 MPH.

Pictures, Barb and Aunt Esther on the river, the big muddy, graveyard at Vicksburg, and the Cairo, raised from the mud.

Katrina final

February 28

I’ve cried a few times on this trip. It happens more these days. I’m not sure if it is due to old age or changing perspective. With more experience comes greater awareness and appreciation. Perhaps they are tears of appreciation. This week it has been a mix. There is appreciation and sadness.

I probably first cried at Gilbert’s grave . Then it was the Zoar Church, then the service at South Zumbro. Gettysburg for sure. Antietam, yes. Receiving pictures of Janie growing and developing, count on it. Walking the halls of Ellis Island, a bit. I don’t think I cried in Florida. In Mississippi, tears flow.

It is very hard to put the last few days into words. In some areas it is often hard to think of this place as America. Areas lack the infrastructure of many third world countries. The Casino Resorts loom nearby, yet just a few miles away, people live in structures resembling what Barb and I encountered in Thailand in the 70’s.

It is hard to imagine the challenges that the locals encounter. Linda, a lady who is a third generation land owner, has been very patient. Oh, it has taken its toll in depression and anger (I am not sure I could have done better). But her resilience is there. It, as humble as it be, is her home and somehow we walked into her life on Monday morning.

We’ve worked hard. The conditions have been tough. Barb’s ant bitten legs are testimony. But as the locals drive by, they wave and smile. Linda’s family has dropped by to express appreciation. They have little, but ask less.

Linda is only one of thousands that are in a state of recovery. As we drive down her street, many of the houses which had 5 feet of water in them have been repaired. Most are rebuilt by the owner or neighborhood communities. Some, like Linda’s, fall under the “special needs list” and mission people appear.

Tears. Some are due to guilt. I watched FOX, CNN and local new channels those Katrina days. Many asked, “Dah, Why didn’t they leave? Mississippi and Louisiana have the highest poverty rate. Are these people clueless? Are they too stupid to leave? Why should we be beholden to ignorant people?”

But, what would I have done if I had lived here? I have talked to many locals who felt that it is just another hurricane. “We thought we would ride Katrina out like we did the last one.” It is clear that stupidity and/or laziness is not an issue.

Well, it was not just another hurricane. They eye of Katrina was equal to the entire size of Camille. “Storm surge” was in the lexicon of the few. And it hit at high tide. Of the millions that reside on or near the Mississippi delta, for centuries, they had ridden out the occasional storm. It was not a wise decision on this one. Katrina, the breadth, largest on record, rendered the area victim that requires the largest domestic rebuilding program since the Civil War.

There are restaurants, gas stations, and businesses that are flourishing in this area. Interstate 10 allows commercial traffic to flow unrestricted. And, as I have mentioned before, the casinos, the flagships of the commercial enterprise of Mississippi, have been restored to greater glory than their pre-Katrina status. Many homes have been rebuilt.

And as I walk through Camp Victor, there are the youth, the middle age and the retired that respond and try to assist the locals who have endured so much. The determination overrides the fatigue. And our coworkers, the Peachtree City delegation, who work so diligently and expertly, in very trying conditions. Not one complaint was heard. Humor far outweighed the fatigue. They’ve been here before and they’ll probably come back again. Appreciation.

And, in my efforts this week, I have not given enough. Therefore tears of sadness flow…like the mighty Mississippi.

But the smile on Linda's grandson Tyler's face helps. His bike now works.

hands II

HANDS

Acts 4:30 ..while thou stretchest out thy hand to heal, and signs and wonders are performed through the name of thy holy servant, Jesus.

On Site

February 26, 2008

It has been a busy 2 days. Each day we arrive at Camp Victor by 6am. A short devotional time is followed by breakfast. The varied groups appear geared for the day’s challenges. There are student groups on winter break from 3 Lutheran colleges in Minnesota and California, there is a Mennonite group of youth, and the rest of us appear to be retired folk. One group is from Spanaway Lutheran (Ivar and Camille’s church) and Pastor Arne is here. His wife, Susan, worked with me at Sunrise as a fifth grade teacher. After breakfast we meet and organize for the efforts of the day. This is an amazing time. Imagine an organization trying to direct the 200 volunteers and send them to the correct site with the right tools and supplies for the day’s task. At about 8, we depart Camp Victor.

Barb and I again have been blessed to be placed with a wonderful group. We have joined eight adults that are from Christ Our Shepherd Lutheran Church in Peachtree City, GA. Jack was wearing a GT hat the first day and we engaged in conversation with him, Russ, Donna, Sue, Bob, Dave, Ron and Wayne. They invited Barb and me to join them in their tasks. This group of professional people, all with tech and/or airline connections, do not mind getting their hands dirty. And they like to have fun. The burden of the difficult tasks we are undertaking and the tough situations in which we work is greatly reduced by the great humor and positive spirits of these people. The banter is nonstop, the support and encouragement consistent. Most have been here and at other hurricane relief sites several times.

Linda’s house has been sitting in a devastated condition for 2 ½ years. She lives about 20 miles from Camp Victor and the efforts of the organization have finally reached her neighborhood. She resides in a makeshift FEMA trailer hooked into her water, electrical, and sewer system. Her house sits nearby in shambles.

It was not much of a house to begin with. Her 100 year old structure is simple and was the home in which she was raised and later raised her children. “My house,” she said. “It’s not much but it is all that I had.” Much of the tainted material (rugs, sheetrock, etc.) has been removed, but it now stands with bare framed walls, a roof, and not much else.

As we pulled up to her house she was sitting on the porch in her rocker. She identified us right away and she waved us in. As we stepped out of the car she greeted us with, “God Bless,” and she gave each of us a big hug. She is not proud of her condition but she remarked that God had comforted her and given her patience. “It is going to be better, thank the Lord. You are going to make it better, thank you.” Russ, the organizer, got us going on the sheetrock process.

Our two days here have been difficult but very rewarding. A major part of the joy comes from the group with whom we are working. Their experience shows and most of the day is spent on productive tasks. But the Camp Victor side is rewarding as well. The profound message in word and action is displayed in all phases of work. The cooking, cleaning, organizing, and the back breaking work is done by the volunteers that are here this week. There is a small and efficient staff present that has set up the infrastructure and who monitor and direct the ongoing varied activities.

There have been two presentations regarding Katrina since we have been here. One was a very amateurish video that was shot by a staff member the day and night of the storm. He hunkered down with his wife and 2 children to ride out the storm. They had ridden out other storms and felt anxious but confident that they would be safe. As the storm increased and the video progressed, you could see the demeanor of the family change to stark fear. The family, at the peak of the storm which lasted several hours, huddled in the bathroom as trees fell on their house and the storm surge, which had never reached their house in previous storms, lapped at their front door. They survived but will never stay home for another serious hurricane.

The second was a video produced by a local TV station. Again, the production piece begins before the storm and the evacuation message is given with the understanding that some would stay and ride out the storm. Again, as the video progresses, the seriousness of the announcers intensifies as they realize the danger that they are in.

Katrina is so unique. It is now the benchmark of all storms. Lessons learned. Failures acknowledged. Recovery ongoing.

Orientation

Orientation

In this area, Biloxi area: 64,000 homes destroyed. An additional 78,000 uninhabitable. The latter is the focus.

Tonight we attended the orientation for our week of work. The Camp Victor facility is a former garment factory. The Lutheran Disaster Response leased the facility and volunteers have sectioned off the large warehouse type facility into several large bunk areas, gender divided. A large cafeteria and kitchen serve as an eating and gathering area. The larger part of the facility serves as storage room for tools, equipment, building supplies, and food. The showers and air conditioning earn Camp Victor the label as the Club Med of relief agencies. It certainly is upscale compared to the tent and trailer facility that we visited in Biloxi today. There are 260 volunteers working with us this week.

Relief agencies have determined specific areas to give their attention to. Camp Victor concentrates in the area of Pascagoula. Currently, the list is down to 700 families that have needs for housing attention. It is interesting to hear that insurance companies have replaced boats, motorcycles, and cars damaged by the storm, but few have received compensation for their homes. So we will visit homes with severe storm damage that are inhabited but they may have a fairly new car sitting in the driveway. Labor costs for repairs have skyrocketed here and even many middle class families depend on volunteer help for recovery.

Stories with tears have become common. Even after 30 months, there are still raw nerves and part of our role here is to listen. A former office manager of Christus Victor, now administration director of Camp Victor, shared her story of those fateful days. She and a few others weathered out the storm at the church because, as she shared, someone had to be here for others. As the storm abated, the church, relatively unscathed due to its location, served as a safe house for the community. As they relied on the few cell phones that worked, supply lines developed that were able to sneak around National Guard checkpoints to get goods to the church. Medical (doctors and nurses) who also scooted around the check points began to arrive from neighboring states but they were not allowed to assist pending approval by the Red Cross which took 3 weeks for approval. Meanwhile, locals who had survived made their way to Christus Victor, animals in tow. The church set up 3 rooms for animals. “We set up one room for cats, one for dogs, and one for birds, although after 3 days, I was ready to let the cats into the bird room.”

Within weeks, volunteers began to arrive and the church multipurpose room sheltered 220 volunteers who spent each day removing the storm surge muck from homes in 100 degree heat. After the day of work they retuned to Christus Victor to eat, sleep and stand in line for the one shower. We met several who had that experience, those very difficult times, and were now returning to give service again, again, and again. The Georgia Tech engineers, members of a Lutheran Church in Peachtree City Georgia, took us into their fold. We will work with them. Some of them were here that first month and this is their fourth time here.

Barb and I, tonight, are uneasy yet excited in anticipation of tomorrow. To walk into someone else’s home, and say we are here to help, given the low level of skill level we have, is overwhelming. Yet, I keep remembering a comment that Marvin made to me today. “How did you get through this?” I asked. “You,” he said. “You volunteers. We couldn’t have made this progress without your help. You and the illegal workers from Mexico. Both of you have been a God send.”
As we left the facility tonight we were introduced to FEMA. She is a one eyed cat that lives in the building. She is in charge of the rodent control department and is the resident that has been here the longest. When Victor moved into the building, the cat, with infected eye was spotted. She was named FEMA because she is half blind, on first encounter ran away, she was then missing for a couple of weeks, when found she appeared helpless and confused, and was finally saved by a faith based organization.