There has been lots of progress, but some items stand as a snapshot in time.
Wading through my email while in Texas a couple weeks ago, I came across a trip being organized by
One Brick to bring a group of volunteers to work with the
St. Bernard Project and do work on rebuilding houses in the hard hit parish east of New Orleans.
A little background on St. Bernard Parish (SBP). We all heard and saw pictures of the Lower Ninth Ward and the devastation there. The Lower Ninth is the eastern portion of Orleans Parish. So water flooded SBP from the west. But the majority of the land of SBP and the six towns that lie along the strip of land hugging the Mississippi River all sit in one of the "feet" that sticks out into the Gulf of Mexico. So the SBP was also hit with the double whammy of the storm surge from the South and East. Every home and business (68,000 pre-Katrina residents) was declared uninhabitable. This is a community that has to start from scratch.
In chatting with the few locals I (and our group of 22 volunteers) met, three years post hurricane and flooding a sense of acceptance has set in. The stages of grief have been experienced and the event is simply a part of the history of their lives. Certainly, they are sad about it, but it feels like each day is just the next step forward. However, the common refrain from these folk is their high school graduation analogy. The day before the flood was graduation day. Their community and family members were together as one for one last time. The flood dispersed everyone. And even though people promised to return and to visit, 50% of the community didn't or hasn't returned. They are gone physically but not in spirit. At this time, 28,000 residents live in SBP.
Our group was housed at a place called Camp Hope which is a former elementary school in the town of St. Bernard that was transformed into a volunteer center. Being semi-permanent, the facilities are much more plush than the church I was scheduled to stay in last time. Internet facilities, hot showers with plenty of water (although the oil spill on the Mississippi River, this area really doesn't ever catch a break, closed the water intake in SBP and so we were limited on the last couple days) and decent food (morning biscuits were the best) made the experience enjoyable.
The 9 guys of our group stayed here in Room 3 (Courtesy of Mike L.)
Our group of 22 was split to work on three houses. My group, Team Kilz, was sent to "kilz" houses. Kilz is the name of the brand of paint that is used to seal wood after it has been scraped of mold.
Inside the houses, we sweat as the houses act as a heat oven. But those in the attic were in a virtual sauna. Coming down from the rafters and stepping into the 95 degree heat felt like stepping into a cold breeze. (Courtesy of Mike L.)
My hair at the end of the day. (Courtesy of Mike L.)
Done (Courtesy of Mike L.)
Team Kilz after knocking off a house. Note the "Jethro Tull" look I'm sporting. Remember, fashion is out the window when it's over 34 Celsius (note my use of the metric system). From Left, Charlotte, Dana, Chris, Alison, Gordon, Tamra, Jules, myself, Tom, Mike and Priscilla
We worked on Angelique Street in Violet, LA on Monday and Tuesday. Beachhead Lane also in Violet on Wednesday, Pecan Street in Chalmette on Thursday and Gardena Lane in New Orleans on Friday.
On Tuesday evening, our group (as well as all the NCCC/Americorps volunteers at Camp Hope) were treated to a Bayou dinner hosted by the Perez family, formerly of Chalmette. Paul P. and his family are a family that has relocated to a different part of the state, but come back once a month to throw a dinner to honor the volunteers who are working in SBP. Paul echoed the sentiments we heard all week about loss of community and family, but he also wanted to shard how appreciative he and the New Orleans area are of the stream of volunteers who continue to come down to work. After the federal government response left the people of the area feeling hopeless, the volunteers like us and the love and support offered has provided the people of the area the sense that they are remembered. I will admit that I was moved by the outpouring of appreciation and the need these people have to say thanks. I think for all of us who are usually on the giving side of the equation find it hard to learn to accept help and love. So when we do it, the appreciation is even more emotionally charged.
Host Paul P. wears the hat and infamous fish shirt. (Courtesy of Mike L.)
Most evenings members of our group drove into New Orleans proper to have some good food and absorb the mood. I experienced the food and music culture that New Orleans is known for. One afternoon we finished our house early and stopped by the famous "Musician's Village", which is the blocks of land purchased by Harry Connick Jr. and friends upon which Habitat has build homes. Connick feared that New Orleans would lose a generation of musicians if they didn't have places to live so he simply had them built.
These homes at the corner of Alvar and Derbigny are colorfully painted. (Courtesy of Mike L.)
Tom in red tried to corrupt this child by teaching him wheelies and then raced him down the street. (Courtesy of Mike L.)
A great week after the three weeks in Texas. The hard work felt good and I slept better than I have in a month. Good friends, who happen also to be from San Francisco, good food and a feeling that I'm doing something to help. The residents tell us not to forget them and to continue coming back to help as there is still work to do. I'm betting I will.
I am happy to report that my Dad, to save his sanity and health, has resigned as executor of my Uncle's estate and has turned it over to my cousin Henry. He'll consult but he's gone home to Seattle.
