Delayed posting from September 15

It was incredibly hot last night. I awoke to scores of mosquito bites on my feet and back, just from cracking a window in the truck for air, from time to time. The “two-man” tent I liberated turned out to be maybe 4 feet square, so it was the truck once again for me. Damn! I handed out three of those stupid things yesterday. I’ll have to try and fix that today. Day four without a shower and the Okies and I smell nasty. We head out early and find hot Sally Ann coffee. We rejoice. We enter the Centre and discover a late shipment blocking the access area. An hour later the sweat is pouring off us all and the day has just begun. We drink maybe 5 or 6 litres of water each day and pee maybe twice. I have a Moon Pie for breakfast and take my diabetes meds. It’s all I have time for.

Florida Amy and her sisters are back from Talahassee with my wish list in tow. It’s gone in an hour. More people are starting to return and we are busier than ever before. Some tools come in and I have to ration them. There are 200 names on a list for generators. We have none as yet. People are friendly and lots of new faces appear. Many are children with trembling lower lips. I park a big tub of bubble gum on my table and chat ‘em up. Most leave grinnin’ and a-chewin’. We finally get to open some boxes that came in earlier and hug each other when we find laundry detergent - a hot item, even though everything must be washed in bottled water. We also find some shoe-shine kits. Uh-huh.

The day moves quickly for the six of us. A man enters and asks if I can use 10 good men. In minutes they are sorting clothes and arranging cleaning supplies. Three Army guys are deployed for our service. Let me tell you: if you ever need your baby food, formula and nipples organized, there’s nobody better at it than the American Army! Everyone works hard and sweats profusely and not a single soul complains.

I’m beginning to see signs of Secondary Trauma in some of those who have been here for a more than a week. Paula, a first response nurse from Houston, was helicoptered in about 10 days ago. She’s been tireless in turning a school and gymnasium filled with mud into our Aid Centre and an 80-bed shelter. Yesterday the Health Board approved the main school as suitable for human habitation - all accomplished within four days. We’ve whipped the Aid Centre into more of a store than a big room with piles of aid dumped in it. Paula’s been the driving force; sometimes begging, sometimes yelling, always indignant at what these people have to endure. She’s bullied FEMA, dismissed the Red Cross when they showed up finally on Tuesday to “take over” and we did the same when they tried to horn in on our Aid Centre. Apparently Paula’s husband is coming to get her tomorrow whether she wants to go or not.

One young man and his colleague here work for the Red Cross. “West Coast Tom” shows up a couple of times a day with the most amazing stuff. He tells me that he just goes to the Mobile, Alabama warehouse of the American Red Cross, without a requisition, and the fellows there just turn their backs while he loots the place for what we need. He has to. Requisitions take three days to be approved. He’s an angel of mercy in the truest tradition of that organization.

The doctor here was born in Canada and has invited me to his RV for tea and talk. I’d like to go, I just haven’t found the time. Occasionally I bump into others with some tie to Canada, or folks from Buffalo or Detroit that have a fondness for our country. Americans are wonderful people and they shine the brightest when they’re helping others. Tomorrow is my last day here and we are all going to exchange email addresses and stay in touch. Ophelia is battering the Carolina coast and my thoughts go to my sister- and brother-in-law Maggie and Dennis, who live in the western part of North Carolina. I pray for their safety and many of the “nickels” I came here to resolve finally “drop.”

Part of me was worried I had gotten too old, too tired to serve like this anymore. I was afraid. Diabetes has taken about a third of my energy from me and I was frightened I was not up to the task. But, there are places in the world that need a man like me, and women and men like you, because compassion makes the limbs stand taller and hard work for a good cause brings sweetness back to my life. Some would say it’s a hopeless cause to a certain degree, but there’s nothing more satisfying than giving your all to even a hopeless cause. I may not be as good as I once was, but that’s OK. I was too hyper when I was young, anyway.

The Okies and I are determined to find a shower tonight. We hear that the State of Florida is hosting some out at the NASA Aerospace installation down the road toward New Orleans. After work, we head out. It takes a bit to find it, but we do and they let us in. My shower comes in a large toilet stall with a hole in the floor and a garden hose with a sprayer head hung over the door. It’s rustic, but I have one of the finest showers of my life. After, we follow the FEMA crowd to the mess hall. After waiting in line (and chancing we’ll miss the curfew) we are rewarded with Prime Rib and baked taters, Caesar Salad and real Diet Coke. It was just fine. We look around as we leave. There are air-conditioned tents and huge transports with bathrooms and showers in them. I think it’s necessary. If these men and women are going to be able to endure this for any length of time, they will need this to root them in some semblance of homey comfort. The Okies also understand; they have served as a family in several disasters like this and they are one of the few I’ve met who truly understand the unconditional nature of this work. We’re not attached to any official group, just people wanting to serve. We have no status here save for that which is given us by the victims of
Katrina. That’s more than enough for us.

I was finally able to borrow a real tent and I am looking forward to sleeping under the Mississippi moon tonight. I am clean and fed and safe for the moment. What could be better than that?

Sleep well.