Live from Pearlington - 8

I heard laughter in Pearlington yesterday. Lots of it. It was good to hear because it signals a big step towards recovery and healing for these wonderful people.

I heard it outside the Pearl*Mart, as people gathered in front on the chairs to visit and take in the sun. They joshed each other and laughed as the kids played on the new swing Nurse Kim had erected on the old tree in front of the store. Covered in Spanish Moss and struggling to thrive, it is a symbol for the whole town. I heard it several times at the very back of the store, where we had placed a generous donation of plus size women’s clothes, donated by a retailer in New York selling Lane Bryant garments. In addition to the sweaters, skirts and jeans - all brand new - are large bras, panties and....thongs. The women giggle as they search through them, making naughty comments to each other and laughing uproariously. One old man was seen searching through them for his wife and praying “PLEASE be a size 28, PLEASE be a size 28...” Had I known they would have caused such healing, I would have put them on our Needs List. Speaking of which, I have created a blog at www.pearlington.blogspot.com and we upload our current Needs List daily. Anyone in the country can see exactly what we need.

I miss Marian desperately and I know she misses me. It is the major challenge in doing this work. She is so much a part of who I am and what I value, that I lay my head down every night and cry a little for our separation. Her own sizeable contribution to the people of Pearlington is just this, supporting me, paying the bills, holding the fort back home and covering all the ground until I return. Thank you, Rosie. I miss and love you more than you can know.

It was a very busy day and I had been awake since 2:30 in the morning, the list of tasks I had to do yesterday playing across the screen of my mind’s eye as I tried to sleep. I got up and worked at the computer and was at the Centre by 6:00 a.m. - like every day. I attended a meeting at the Hancock Medical Centre to save our Clinic and it looks like we were successful. The group of kids from Americorps is rotating out today and the new group has already arrived. They are fresh-faced and eager and a real joy to work with. There is a young local man here named Hezakiah who comes to the Centre and works 12 hours every day volunteering to help us. He informed me the other day that he and his family were planning a goodbye party for the departing Americorps group and I got on board, contributing $50. worth of chicken to fry.

Last night, we all gathered under a huge tarp that a group from Virginia had erected as they build sheds in the community. On a large BBQ they brought, his mother and Aunties created a huge pot of red beans and rice and a ton of fried chicken. Suzie Sharp, the lady I spoke of whose brother died here under an excavator while helping her clear her land, showed up with potato salad, devilled eggs, a fruit salad (God knows where she got the fruit), fresh-baked bread and a creamy banana pudding. It was a fine feast under the Mississippi moon, as the trees dripped with the humidity and we all got a chance to relax a little and become better friends. The most touching moment came when Aunt Shirley sang an old Negro spiritual about their struggles and a prayer that God would lead them safely home. The fog swirled around us, the half moon shone brightly in the night sky and we were all connected in a single moment - black, white, Hispanic, American and Canadian - friends forever, pulled together by a common peril and holding hands against the terrible storm that has altered all our lives.

I cried then and I cry now as I write this, missing my home and so deeply grateful in my heart for all I have and all I have to give. Please God, help us help these people, so I may return to my wife and know I gave my best. Help us get the rest of them off the ground as Day 73 dawns bright and clear. Each moment that passes makes it harder to leave, but leave I must. My life is elsewhere and that is the nature of things. My heart will only heal when I know they are safe at last.