Day 3
"We drove the chevy to the levee but the levee was gone . . ."
According to the Episcopalians (who are in charge of us), that's one of the more humorous of the sayings about the failure of the city of New Orleans to weather the storm.
Early this morning, we met at an Episcopal parish house, where a soon-to-be-deacon oriented us to the city in "time and space." She talked to us and several other groups of the history of New Orleans, from its founding in 1718 through its cultural expansion, its peak in population in the 1950's, and its experience with hurricanes Katrina and Rita. She provided us with a detailed account of the days leading up to Katrina and gave us an idea of the scope of the storm's damage on the gulf coast. Some communities just east and north of the city no longer exist because of the storm. In Slidell, Pass Christian, and Long Beach, Mississippi, about 80% of the structures were severely or completely destroyed. We drove through some of those communities on our way into the city, and I had a tough time imagining that houses and other buildings even existed there pre-Katrina. As for the city itself, the population of Orleans parish shrunk from 450,000 to only 200,000 as a result of the storm.
The woman continued, noting that, despite the suffering and utter destruction of the city, some heroes did emerge. She mentioned that fishermen and others with boats entered the city to rescue people from houses and rooftops. They had to avoid the many gas fires in the city, and many perished in their rescue attempts. For their courage, the people of New Orleans dubbed them the "Cajun Navy."
After our orientation, we met up with a group from Vermont and Emily, our leader for the day. At first, we thought they were all from Vermont, but we discovered, while talking to them at the site, that they are from several places around the country and got together because of their now-leader's internet plea for people to help out in New Orleans. One of them actually lives in Winston-Salem and is a Chemistry Ph.D. student at Wake Forest.
Soon after we arrived at the house, located in the lower 9th ward, the homeowner, Shirley Medina, arrived with four of her grandchildren. Throughout the day, we talked to her about her past in New Orleans, her family, her time in Baltimore in the year after the storm, and her neighborhood. She hopes, someday, to rebuild and move back into her house. She didn't always think it would be possible to return, but one of her nursing students (she teaches at a nursing college) told her how the Episcopalians had helped someone she knew. This student also convinced Shirley to return to her home rather than starting over in a new place. Shirley expressed her gratitude to us over and over, and she told us that she was so thankful that God had blessed her. She even told us that she plans to tell her church this Sunday about our help. She seemed to have a positive attitude about the destruction and the possibility of rebuilding, but she told us she didn't always feel this way. For a while, she said, she lost some of her faith and fell into a depression. While she lived in Baltimore, she exhausted all of her savings from her nursing career and now relies on her children for support. She just found out she'll have a teaching job at a nursing college, but she doesn't know when it will start.
Once we got in the house, we began to bring out large pieces of furniture, insulation, sheet rock, and other unidentifiable objects. We formed an assembly line to pick up the items, transfer them to wheelbarrows, and roll them to the curb. Shirley’s grandsons were eager to help, begging us to let them steer the wheelbarrows and running around inside the house. When they discovered some of their old sports trophies, they quickly grasped them, hugged them, and took them out of the house, with relieved smiles on their faces. The boys commented on almost everything that came out of the house, especially special items such as the “Thanksgiving Table” and favorite Lion King sheets. They didn’t seem to grasp the reality and permanence of the devastation, but the oldest boy did worry about his grandmother and followed her around to make sure she was holding up.
The boys soon grew tired of hauling and digging, and they began playing football in the yard next door. Meanwhile, our team and the “Vermont” team continued to remove the contents of the house, digging through insulation that fell from the ceiling and layers of dust and mold. We stopped periodically to talk to Shirley, both because we wanted to hear her story and because Katie, the woman in charge of the volunteers, had told us that talking to homeowners was just as important as gutting the house itself. She told us at a meeting later this afternoon that the Episcopal Church, in contrast to other organizations, focuses on the homeowners rather than on the house. At first, I was surprised that the Episcopalians didn’t require homeowners to commit to rebuilding in order for volunteers to gut their houses; soon though, I realized that Katie’s logic made sense—that the people, and their mental health and emotions, count for far more than the structure of the house. By the end of her talk, I was glad that we were working for the Episcopalians, because I was convinced that their feelings of closure about their houses and old lives, whether or not they will ever rebuild, matters so much. As Katie told us, Shirley will sleep better tonight knowing that her house has been gutted, and that kind of progress is the most important kind.
Shirley dreams of reconstructing her house, remodeling it, and expanding her bedroom. She doesn’t know now whether that is a possibility, but she told me that she will not let go of it. “It’s home,” she says, “it’s home.” She won’t go back to Baltimore, and she’ll continue living on the West Bank of New Orleans until she can move back into the lower 9th ward. She told us she had to have dreams, that the Bible says that “without dreams you perish.” I felt assured that Shirley impacts a lot of people, whether in her nursing, her care for her grandchildren, or her interactions with people at church. She used to let other people, even some she didn’t know, stay temporarily in her house just to be kind; she wants to return the kindness that her boss showed her by putting a down payment on her house. “Kindness,” she told us, “doesn’t take effort; but being mean takes a lot of work!”
P.S. Thanks, Ms. Meng, for the pasta! Sarah told me to write that it was delicious, and it was a great dinner. We appreciate it!
According to the Episcopalians (who are in charge of us), that's one of the more humorous of the sayings about the failure of the city of New Orleans to weather the storm.
Early this morning, we met at an Episcopal parish house, where a soon-to-be-deacon oriented us to the city in "time and space." She talked to us and several other groups of the history of New Orleans, from its founding in 1718 through its cultural expansion, its peak in population in the 1950's, and its experience with hurricanes Katrina and Rita. She provided us with a detailed account of the days leading up to Katrina and gave us an idea of the scope of the storm's damage on the gulf coast. Some communities just east and north of the city no longer exist because of the storm. In Slidell, Pass Christian, and Long Beach, Mississippi, about 80% of the structures were severely or completely destroyed. We drove through some of those communities on our way into the city, and I had a tough time imagining that houses and other buildings even existed there pre-Katrina. As for the city itself, the population of Orleans parish shrunk from 450,000 to only 200,000 as a result of the storm.
The woman continued, noting that, despite the suffering and utter destruction of the city, some heroes did emerge. She mentioned that fishermen and others with boats entered the city to rescue people from houses and rooftops. They had to avoid the many gas fires in the city, and many perished in their rescue attempts. For their courage, the people of New Orleans dubbed them the "Cajun Navy."
After our orientation, we met up with a group from Vermont and Emily, our leader for the day. At first, we thought they were all from Vermont, but we discovered, while talking to them at the site, that they are from several places around the country and got together because of their now-leader's internet plea for people to help out in New Orleans. One of them actually lives in Winston-Salem and is a Chemistry Ph.D. student at Wake Forest.
Soon after we arrived at the house, located in the lower 9th ward, the homeowner, Shirley Medina, arrived with four of her grandchildren. Throughout the day, we talked to her about her past in New Orleans, her family, her time in Baltimore in the year after the storm, and her neighborhood. She hopes, someday, to rebuild and move back into her house. She didn't always think it would be possible to return, but one of her nursing students (she teaches at a nursing college) told her how the Episcopalians had helped someone she knew. This student also convinced Shirley to return to her home rather than starting over in a new place. Shirley expressed her gratitude to us over and over, and she told us that she was so thankful that God had blessed her. She even told us that she plans to tell her church this Sunday about our help. She seemed to have a positive attitude about the destruction and the possibility of rebuilding, but she told us she didn't always feel this way. For a while, she said, she lost some of her faith and fell into a depression. While she lived in Baltimore, she exhausted all of her savings from her nursing career and now relies on her children for support. She just found out she'll have a teaching job at a nursing college, but she doesn't know when it will start.
Once we got in the house, we began to bring out large pieces of furniture, insulation, sheet rock, and other unidentifiable objects. We formed an assembly line to pick up the items, transfer them to wheelbarrows, and roll them to the curb. Shirley’s grandsons were eager to help, begging us to let them steer the wheelbarrows and running around inside the house. When they discovered some of their old sports trophies, they quickly grasped them, hugged them, and took them out of the house, with relieved smiles on their faces. The boys commented on almost everything that came out of the house, especially special items such as the “Thanksgiving Table” and favorite Lion King sheets. They didn’t seem to grasp the reality and permanence of the devastation, but the oldest boy did worry about his grandmother and followed her around to make sure she was holding up.
The boys soon grew tired of hauling and digging, and they began playing football in the yard next door. Meanwhile, our team and the “Vermont” team continued to remove the contents of the house, digging through insulation that fell from the ceiling and layers of dust and mold. We stopped periodically to talk to Shirley, both because we wanted to hear her story and because Katie, the woman in charge of the volunteers, had told us that talking to homeowners was just as important as gutting the house itself. She told us at a meeting later this afternoon that the Episcopal Church, in contrast to other organizations, focuses on the homeowners rather than on the house. At first, I was surprised that the Episcopalians didn’t require homeowners to commit to rebuilding in order for volunteers to gut their houses; soon though, I realized that Katie’s logic made sense—that the people, and their mental health and emotions, count for far more than the structure of the house. By the end of her talk, I was glad that we were working for the Episcopalians, because I was convinced that their feelings of closure about their houses and old lives, whether or not they will ever rebuild, matters so much. As Katie told us, Shirley will sleep better tonight knowing that her house has been gutted, and that kind of progress is the most important kind.
Shirley dreams of reconstructing her house, remodeling it, and expanding her bedroom. She doesn’t know now whether that is a possibility, but she told me that she will not let go of it. “It’s home,” she says, “it’s home.” She won’t go back to Baltimore, and she’ll continue living on the West Bank of New Orleans until she can move back into the lower 9th ward. She told us she had to have dreams, that the Bible says that “without dreams you perish.” I felt assured that Shirley impacts a lot of people, whether in her nursing, her care for her grandchildren, or her interactions with people at church. She used to let other people, even some she didn’t know, stay temporarily in her house just to be kind; she wants to return the kindness that her boss showed her by putting a down payment on her house. “Kindness,” she told us, “doesn’t take effort; but being mean takes a lot of work!”
P.S. Thanks, Ms. Meng, for the pasta! Sarah told me to write that it was delicious, and it was a great dinner. We appreciate it!
posted by Annie @ 5:53 PM
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