Return to New Orleans

One of the missionairies, Kerry, who lives in New Orleans part of the year, recently had to return to attend to his partner who was suffering from a life-threatening illness. It became an ordeal when he discovered that the services one takes for granted in most places, were not readily available in the city. He ended up driving his partner to Hammond, 70 miles north west of the city for the treatment and care he needed.

This, my friends, is another reason we are planning to return to New Orleans. On October 27 we are planning another trip. At least one week, maybe two. Maybe doing the same, maybe something different. What will be interesting will be to see how much progress has been made since we were there in January.

The sad thing is, we do not expect much will have progressed--at least not enough.

Even Now

Sometimes, when I am alone in the quiet of the early morning, I can hear New Orleans calling to me. Her soft whisper and perfume come to me on a wayward breeze. She is still sad.. pining for her lost ones that lay forgotten in the rubble. Yes, she is sad but she is a powerful lady and her grief has made her stronger... stronger than hate, stronger than ignorance, stronger than beaurocracy. She promises me she will rise better and more beautiful. Here in the morning mists, I tell her she is already more beautiful with her scars and lines of worry. She is majestic and calm... waiting and listening to the sound of the night birds and the rushing waters of the Mississipppi. She also listens for your prayer... for your benediction and your hope. She listens for your arrival and longs for the touch of your heart and your hands. You are the answer to her prayers and to her hopes for her people. See her for yourself, let her in... give yourself to the journey... pray for her, hope for her, never forget... I can't... even now.

Reunion

Yesterday, most of us who were on the Mission Trip, were reunited to participate in an open forum on our experience in New Orleans. We viewed a Powerpoint presentation of the sights and sounds we experienced while there. We had a lunch together with the forty or so people who came to hear about the trip. And we conducted a panel Q&A.

It was, I believe for all of us, like we had just left Feliciana Avenue, just closed up the house on Galaxy Way, just toured the devastation of the 7th ward or St. Bernard's Parish. We all know for sure we will never be the same people we were before we went.

The group of people who were in N.O. the week before us from the Redlands UCC came to hear us. It was validation of our feelings, our reactions, our sense of what went on because they said, yes, that is just what they experienced.

It was a very satisfying, yet disturbing session. The tears are still just below the service. We have all gone back to our day to day lives, but things have changed. Priorities, paradigms and dreams have shifted.

And we all agree, we need to go back.

Rob

Press Enterprise Covers the Mission in N.O.

Hit this linke for local coverage of our mission.
http://www.pe.com/localnews/inland/stories/PE_News_Local_D_katrina23.1c61e4e.html

We Speak Out

On Sunday, February 24 at our church home we will tell our stories of our mission trip to New Orleans. I think we all ready to talk yet we are all wondering what it will be like. How will we be able to communitcate the sights, the sounds, the smells? Can anyone truly understand who has not been there? Will we ourselves ever truly understand all we saw and experienced?
We will know, Sunday at noon. We have invited the folks from our sister church in Redlands who went on a similar mission trip just a week before us. We are comrades in arms. We share a similar experience. And we all feel this need to share it because we cannot just forget and move on. Our neighbors are in need. And someday, we may be in need ourselves.
Rob
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Silence Broken...a Bit on NBC

Tonight on NBC Nightly News, Brian Williams and the crew did an update on what the status of New Orleans is at this point. Click here and check out the stories. Interestting how accurate our impressions were. http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/3032619/

Silence

We have all become silent. We can't really write, we don't want to talk... What does that mean? Well... for me it means that I am moving through the process. It means that I now know words are nothing in the face of what I know I need to do. Talking about what I saw and how I felt can't convey what it has done to my soul. Not damage, just change. It is something that you feel deep within.. a change in your sensibilities. Its almost as if, because I drank the water, New Orleans is in my blood. I am dismayed at human ignorance and the willingness to have emotional ADHD. There are so many people who are willing to persecute blacks and gays and Hispanics etc.(add your own minority here) using the Bible as ammunition but so few are willing to use the Bible as an impetus to get off their high horses and do something meaningful for another human being. Its weird to me. When you point your finger at someone else, you have three of your own fingers pointing back at you. I wonder sometimes if these people have heard the expression "weed your own backyard before you worry about mine.". What would happen to the world if everyone just did what Christ charged us to do when he said " Do unto others". What do you think would happen if we stopped committing the "Sin of Sodom" which, incidentally was inhospitality, not the wider spread rumor. (Look it up in Matthew). I am trying not to become jaded as I see the depths of ignorance in the world but it ain't easy. Love each other people. Even the ones that hate you. Love the ones you don't know and be especially good to the ones you love and the ones who love you. If there is peace in the home, there will be peace in the world. So before you judge, before you point your finger, be silent, think of what we are supposed to be doing here. As for me, I will think of New Orleans.

Here's the Thing

I am still tired all the time. Not from working but from the weight of New Orleans and man's ignorance. Keeping this journal has been cathartic to be sure and the love of my fellow missionaries both in our church and at Redlands have been an immense help but as I plan to go back to school to finish my third degree, I have to think about all the people who can't even get through the day without a drink or drugs or some type of anesthetic because they can't have their lives back. The only physical thing I can do is go back and try to help some more. Mentally, I can remember them, pray for them and make sure others remember... why are we all so helpless... impotent... I mean we as a people. We slip into complacency and just float there. Here's the thing... I would like to issue a challenge to all who can feel anything from the heart up... Write your congress person, go on the news, be in the paper, be in front of whoever will listen to you and make something happen. Never forget,,, never give up, never stop trying to make a difference. When the lights go out on you in the end, die knowing you lived. pray for New Orleans, pray for her people... pray for each other. Love every person like it matters. Stop bickering with each other and fight for the truth and for what is right. That's the meat and potatoes of it. The thing is,,,, do the right thing.

NBC News Story 1-29-07

Interesting news story here...short...(preceeded by a 15 second commercial...it wouldn't be TV without advertising). In the story you will see a reporter standing my this boat, "Noah's Arc". We were there. It is near the house with the tree that still has a sofa in it. Progress..right.

http://video.msn.com/v/us/msnbc.htm?g=B5B19686-757E-4FC4-9284-699F60223056&f=00&fg=copy

A Reminder

Looking at the pictures, it all came back. The feeling that looking at these places was like looking at a graveyard. Even though alot of people got out alive, their lives were forever affected. These rotting shells were once homes full of children and animals and treasured belongings... all either driven off by the flood, dead or ruined by the negligence of mankind. Nature's fury not to be outdone by man's idiotic mistreatment of brothers and sisters that desperately needed help. The pictures, to the outside observer, may not look that bad but for someone who has been there and seen it, they are a poignant reminder of the tightness in our chests and the tears that came unbidden upon walking in this place. Names and deeds become unimportant in this context. It doesn't matter what these people did or did not do.. no one deserves this, no one should have to have this happen to them. It scorches me like the strongest gall to hear people say that because these people were poor and maybe on public assistance, they in some way deserved this. How absolutely ridiculous. We as a race need to stop this fault-finding and white washing of our guilt. Something has to be done in a larger sense. So, dearest readers, look at the pictures and let yourselves feel... feel angry, feel helpless, feel sad but feel something. Let these pictures serve as a reminder that no matter how wonderful we think we are, we can be laid to the bone. Laid low... and as a good friend of mine once said,,, who would come to help us..

The House on Feliciana Drive

This is how we found the house on Feliciana Drive. Located in the Gentilly Woods area of New Orleans, we had driven by hundreds of ravished homes. "Our" home was modest, yet inside it was very large with six bedrooms. The evidence of a family was everywhere...toys, dolls, romance novels. It had been partially emptied, but there was still much to do. We would spend the next four days carrying out ruined furniture and possessions, tearing out moldy drywall and cockroach invested insulation and pulling up linoleum and carpet. Wheelbarrows of trash went to the curb. Our mission was to at least get the house stripped of as much evidence of Katrina as possible. It was only a beginning.



For more pictures, click here or copy and paste this address into your web browser.
http://picasaweb.google.com/qwerki.rob

R

Out of Sight

Last night I watched the leader of our country, some would say, of the free world, speechify about how we need to go to Iraq and send more and more young people to fight for...what?

And, what was truly stunning was the fact that the recovery of a large portion of country, or should I save LACK of recovery, was not even mentioned.

If it is out of sight, it is out of mind.

Since I have been back I have been asked what it was like, what did I see. People are amazed when I tell them that I saw miles and miles and miles of ravished neighborhoods, homes still untouched since the storm, lives still unmended. Yes, many of those who were forced out of the area have gone on to what some say are better lives elsewhere. They found new homes and new jobs, and this when many of them were chronically unemployed. Does this mean we need a good earthquake here in California to get back on track, to shake out the ne'er-do-wells, to cleanse the state and start again? And who would come to our aid?

Whether it is shaking out or washing away our sins isn't this ultimately so we do not have to face how abominably we do treat each other? We need to come together and build a true family of mankind. Sometimes tough love is warranted. Other times extending a helping hand up is the thing needed. But we all need to be reminded of the Golden Rule and think about what we are doing..would we want what is being done to New Orleans to be done to us?

I am lifting the rug, (something I learned how to do in New Orleans), every chance I get now. We need to remember what has happened in New Orleans, at Ground Zero and in southeast Asia, (remember there was a major tsunami?). No more "out of sight, out of mind." That is one of the lessons of our mission trip to New Orleans...it is perhaps the most important one.

Rob

R

Day Four

Today is the first day I wake up not feeling hammered. For a few precious moments, I was okay. Good even. I am already beginning to see how our trip will bear fruit. A lot of people have said they want to go and do this thing we did. Lots of people want to feel what we felt and see what we saw. It occurs to me that the actual physical work we did is puny compared to what we brought back. It is a grace that only God can give to those who toil for the progression of His kingdom. I looked into the faces of those who went with me on this mission and their faces are diffused with a softness and a light that was not there before. We went to help, we went to see the destruction for ourselves and having done this, are forever changed and forever changing. The support we have received from those who went before us is overwhelming. Redlands UCC members and friends have been among the kindest and most understanding. Thank you,, thank you. Being the kind of type A person that I am, I am mentally taking note of who may be interested in going again and of those who want to go for the first time. It is an experience not to be missed and one that affects everyone who has it whether they notice it at first or not. I have heard of people who go on missions becoming consumed with the place they visit and help and I have to say that even before we left, New Orleans consumed me and now that I have seen her and felt her near, I am a zealot. Please, for those of you who read this and those of you who may be thinking about what to do with your life, think of New Orleans, come and mend her spirit and her people. Take the path less traveled and lend your hearts and hands.
To the ones who have been and to those who will go, you are beautiful. You are the salt of the earth and the soul of a nation. Know that you are loved.

Monday

I wake up feeling heavy... my body feels like lead. Every bone in it hurts.. my face hurts, the ends of my hair hurt. In church yesterday, we sang a hymn about going in and each doing good using their God-given gifts.. i cried like a baby. It is beyond wierd that I cry without provocation. I tried to clean house today and , unlike every other day of my life, i don't care if it gets done. Somehow, i feel guilty that i have a house to clean. I look at my baby and my animals and think of all the people who have lost everyone and everything they love and it just breaks my heart. I sit in the middle of my living room and cry for all the babies and animals that have lost their mamas and daddies... God, if the pain i am feeling is even one one hundredth of someone that survived Katrina, it is unimaginable. I don't understand why there aren't hundreds of thousands of people there, working house by house until everyone has a house, a home and things to put in it... Why?? I am going back as soon as I can and I will keep going back until New Orleans is whole again. I have to. I have to.

Getting Back to "Normal"

I walked into church Sunday; just like every Sunday before. This Sunday as different though. Just standing and watching the regulars come in for services, I felt so many emotions coming over me. Several times, I feel myself wanting to just burst into tears. I left the services early; about 10:30 and went back to bed. I slept until 5pm. I awoke not quite sure if I had slept though to Monday. I realized I had not and walked through my house almost in a daze. the emotions caught up with me and I just wept uncontrolably. I return to bed around 8pm knowing that this was not going to be an experience I'd soon forget. I don't think any of us who volunteered for this mission will every fully return to life as we knew it. Little things will be constant reminders of our trip and our blessings. Keith

Setting the Record Straight

I dragged into church today...literally. Not sore, but exhausted in many ways. My back which hurt all week from the lifting and pulling feels just fine. I found out that many people thought I was Susan Soares writing. No..I am Sue Sinclair and most of you do not know me. I had been looking for something ..a place where I felt called and the first Sunday I saw the announcement for the Mission Trip to New Orleans, I knew that at that moment, that was what I was looking for. So I signed up and have attended worship since. Anyway, I want to tell you that what we knew about New Orleans from the media and the government is not the New Orleans I encountered. There is so much we, I do not know so I am going to continue to educate myself about what really happened. Before I left for this mission and now afterwords I have had people make comments like, "Why didn't the people themselves clean up their houses and why didn't others in the community pitch in and help?" There are so many stories and I will share with you what I believe to be true so far in my education. The first house we worked on, the owner had a stroke...before or after the levies broke, I do not know. The mother had already died, so the house is the responsibility of the children who also have their own homes to recover. I know that the people that own the houses we worked on went through a lengthy process to qualify for help and the UCC Church as represented by Rev. Alan Coe had participated in the process of evaluating need and responding to it. Who am I to question that?! I know that many people had to leave the city due to no home, no job and no way of surviving without assistance....many were relocated by the government itself and have not returned. Remember Hazel on our flight over? After 18 months, she was finally coming home. I was told that three quarters of the population of New Orleans left! Can you imagine that? Businesses were still closed When we were there. Hospitals were still closed as well. One lady we met stated that if you really need emergency medical care, go outside the city as sometimes the ambulances wait in the parking lot of the remaining hospitals for 9 hours before they are able to deliver the patient. Can you imagine that? I guess I have some outrage at some of these comments about how people there have not helped themselves....Some have not and that is true in any situation, but not most!....Well, enough. I came home last night to my house with electricity, plumbing, my son, my dogs and cats, to flowers (some frozen but not all!) and to my wonderful life. How grateful I am for the riches I have, materially, with family, with friends, with church. Thank you God for all that I have and I pray I will never forget the feelings of saddness and loss in the city of New Orleans and the knowledge that God is still working through us and despite us in our world!

Sky

We are all home safe and sound... well, sound for the most part. I looked up this morning and saw a single star, just winking out for the day and I wondered, does that same star shine on New Orleans? Is she waking up under the same azure sky? How could she when everything here is in order and clean and sweet? How is it that, here, loving arms enfold me and I can walk outside in the dark without being afraid? And yet, under the same sky, people are suffering and dying of broken hearts... Here in my home, surrounded by loved ones, I think again about those who will never again know this feeling.
All of the preparation and all of the doing is over for now. All of the things that kept me from truly letting this experience all the way in are silent and still. I am home and not alone but alone. New Orleans and I sit under the blue vault of heaven and have our morning kiss, make plans for the day and share our pain. Even now, she is with me... in my heart, my blood, my soul.
God, you spoke the Universe into being, gave life to the human race and made us to know you. Oh, heavenly Father God, speak into being, peace and healing for New Orleans. Speak love to her people. Tell her I will always think of her when I look at the sky.

Home

We are home. But home right now does not seem the same. I am myself still sorting things out. I feel guilty...is that the right word? I feel detached and think I want to talk about it, but, if you weren't there doing what we did, you might not understand. I want to just sit and think about it. I am thinking perhaps I could just go back and do this work. That is not something I have ever done in my life, always doing the safe thing, the right thing. But sometimes God speaks to you in unexpected ways. I did not expect to be changed even though I knew it was a possibility. But something has shifted. I am very fortunate to have a lovely home and a good job and great friends and so many other things, people and supports systems in my life. So does that mean I should fall back into those supports and not do something outside my comfort level?

It is a question I am wrestling will right now. When I came home I had to mop up a spill on the kitchen floor. I left the broom closet door open. As I mopped, I had a flashback to the many closets we saw in our work in Louisiana. I know it is nothing like a flashback of a soldier, but it was disturbing and somewhat jarring all the same. There is a war going on in this country. Our priorities seem a bit screwed up right now. All I can think of is "Starfish--one at a time being returned to the see...you cannot save every single starfish washed up on shore, but it sure makes a difference to the ones you do help."

Oh, God, I know You are still speaking...please, please, just say it now. Say what we should know and what we should do so all will know.

And so now that I am home I find my home is where my heart is. Now I just need to figure out where my heart wants to be.

Vee Vill Be Bahk.....????

Yes, I am glad to go home. Yet something inside of me wants to stay. I want to continue this mission. It felt so very good to rip down the remnants of Katrina, to tear out the moldy mildewy mess of nature's fury. I felt I was doing something...important...meaningful....selfish. By selfish, this is a question I wrestle with constantly: am I doing this for others or to feel good? And if I feel good in the good I do, is that a bad thing? And is having a good time while you do good things a bad thing? And finally, can I come to rest and be comfortable with the paradox?

I want to come back, but like so many good intentions, I wonder if I will. Or will I just go back to the daily grind and activities of my oh-too-busy life? Ultimately, will I take the easy road or the rough highway?

Only God knows....and He is still speaking.

R

And so We Leave

Today we are leaving. It has been a long week filled with anger, frustration, victory and laughter. I have missed my family so much; missed the familiarity of home and the predictable rythm of life there but this has been my home too. New Orleans welcomed me, was glad we were here to help... everyone we talked to was so nice and the church treated us like ambassadors. So as I sit here, putting some of my feelings into words, I think how nice it will be to be home, in the arms of the ones I love and that love me and counting my blessings, I have to think of the people that can't go home. Those that were devestated by this disaster only have their burned out, gutted and rotting houses... some of them watched their loved ones get swept away.. some of them had to leave beloved pets behind to die of starvation in order to live themselves. They will never again be the same. We can't ever restore their hearts. I leave this place forever changed too. Going home....

Surprise Trip to Galaxy...Searching for Uranus...Finding Ourselves Again

We thought we were going to a house on Coronado that another group had been working on to dismantle a pool. There was a change is plans. Marcie, the volunteer director, asked us to go to another house where the owner is desparate to return. So off we went.

The directions were interesting. The house, located at 2501 Galaxy Way. Go out North Claiborne. It turns into Judge Perez Boulevard. Okay. Keep going and look for Uranus where you turn right. Of course, there are no signs. (By now we are a bit tired, silly, etc., so each time we thought about looking for Uranus, we of course thought about..........Star Trek.

Anyway. We finally found the house. It was a disaster, untouched since the storm. It was in a newer neighborhood, brick, modest, but nice. The grass in front was so high, we almost couldn't see the front door. It was obvious the water had risen above the roof. There was debris and a large tree limb on top. The add-on breezeway had partially collapsed. There were a fridge and freeze in that area...something we all dreaded. Marcy said it was unsafe to go in that area, so to just leave it. We were, to say the least, relieved.

But the rest of the house was a shambles. The ceiling had fallen in. Furniture was upside and piled in strange positions. It was soon apparent there was little to save. So we began.

Remarkably, the job went quickly. We shovelled debris into wheelbarrows, carried out the wreckage of the furniture, including TV's, a computer, radios, telephones, and stuff from the kitchen. We thought we might get one room done. We wound up emptying the house and then tearing out the drywall and panelling in the living room and back bedroom. It was amazing to us and to Marcy when she returned. And again there was a big pile in front of the house, so high, that when you stood in the street, you almost could not see the house.

This was our last job here. This one went so quickly, I don't think we "connected" to it like the one on Felicana. Or maybe we have already become a bit desensitized. No, not that, because, if I really stop and think about it, I can still feel a sense of overwhelming sadness. Yep, this will remain with me for a long time. And I will share this story because it needs to be heard. It must be heard. Because it could happen to any one of us and I wonder who will come help us?

R

She Waits

This is the team's last day working on the houses and I can't help but think of all the other houses and people that need help. This morning the sky was Mardi Gras Purple just before the rain started and it seemed like a smile... a Mona Lisa smile from the lady we have come to save. New Orleans has been beaten and broken and forgotten by so many. Her people suffer.. her land is laid bare and yet, she smiles peacefully at our tiny efforts and she waits. She is waiting for you.... to come or to pray or just to remember. My heart breaks for the lives lost and the homes crushed and thrown on top of one another as if by an angry child. Things so out of place and out of tune... But life is stirring, people smile and play and dance still in the wreckage of this mystical place. New Orleans waits, patient and kind, in the mist... humming to herself and rocking her children.
I will never forget this place or her people. Thank you Lady of the Waters, crescent city.... thank you for taking us in and letting us see your beauty. Thank you for sharing your pain and letting us think we have made a difference. Know that God will restore you through others like us, hearts and hand and minds united in one cause.... because She Waits.

5101 Feliciana Drive in the Gentilly Woods

Our work is done...at least at the first site we went to. All traces of the life that once was lived at this house are now gone. It is time to rebuild. The studs are exposed. The floors are laid bare. Most tile is gone. Ceilings are open to the rafters. It is a blank canvas waiting for a new life. We do wonder if anyone will actually come home. Or will it sit like so many of it's neighbors? Devastation is the model here. The area is called Gentilly Woods, an area built shortly after WWII for the GI's. It was a modest yet attractive neighborhood with curving street. Each house had, and still has, a distinct personality. Ravished though they are, the inner personnas still come through...through the muck and the mold, the mire and mess. And they are beginning to rise again. And we helped.

Today we will go to the other house on Coronado that needs an outdoor above the ground pool dismantled and nails removed from inside. We think of the house as Feliciana as "our" house. But Coronado needs us too....like thousands of others. But only one starfish at a time can be saved. And it is true, the starfish is ever so grateful.

Rob

Half Way, Half Day, Whole Heart--Day Three

Okay, we made it to mid-week. Only half a day today. Only! We are now pulling nails, sweeping floors...but, oh wait! The closet in the back bedroom was not done! The linoleum on the kitchen floor...and what about the front bathroom. Are you crazy? The tile? Pull off the tile? And the tub...full of Katrina Punch! Oh, great. So we forge on. Susan works diligently in the bathroom, we try to pull the tiles, but they are tough. The linoleum comes up...slowly, achingly with a scraper. The ceilings come down in the back bedrooms. The last closet is done. FEMA workers come by and take the airconditioners. Other scavengers appear. They specialize. "Any pots and pans?" "In the heaps," we reply. He finds one. A plumber who has only one eye and looks less than prosperous, but is working nearby, comes by. "Don't take out the tub...it is okay. I don't believe in folks spending more money than they need to!" He leaves, picking up some loose change in the lawn out front we must have missed.

Today part of the group went to another area, a more (formerly) prosperous area. We meet them to pick them up. It is another world, yet the same god-forsaken world (small g intentional--the real God is still with these folks).

We come back. Some who missed the Sunday tour of the devastation, take one this afternoon. Some of us go to Fiesta Bistro where we enjoy Margaritas, tapas and cheese, etc. Some of us nap, some play cards.

Then the church fetes us to red beans and rice finished off with a king cake. Yummmmmm. And now some of are going to bed early, some read, some play games and some of us are going to a local night spot for local music and culture ;-). Life seems almost normal.

Later
Rob

Glorys

Today when we arrived on the site we found a beautiful (yes, beautiful) FEMA trailer was on the lawn in front of the house to the south of ours. It had come sometime between the time we left yesterday and this morning. (FEMA works by night?). Anyway, we were very curious, but most of us went right to work. Sue and I went over to "have a look". That is when we met Glorys.
Glorys lived two doors down on the other side of the house that now had the FEMA trailer. She saw us and came over.
"Do you know who delivered this trailer?" she said in greeting.
We told her we did not, but it had come since yesterday.
"Well, I need to talk with them. They ran over my lawn again. Last time they were here to clean the alley and they broke my sidewalk! I am getting a little annoyed!"
We told her who we were and what we were doing.
"Are they coming back?"
We didn't know.
"I guess the trailer means she, (meaning the lady in the FEMA trailer house), will be coming back," said Glorys, "I am so glad."
Glorys had been living in the neighborhood for about four years before the storm. She has been working on getting her place re-habbed for several months. She said she finally took care of the weeds and tall grass at the house near hers because it just looked too bad to bear. She has a gentleman friend from North Carolina who is very handy. The drywall is up inside and they are ready to move appliances in and paint. She has planted a poinsettia garden in her backyard to replace the one destroyed in the storm.
On her door is posted a sign that reads: "Car or no car, I sleep here". There is no furniture in her home currently mostly because scavengers and looters still haunt the neighborhood and have broken in her door several times. The arrival of the FEMA trailer next door and us working on our house is a hopeful sign for her.

She knew our residents. They had lived there for thirty years or so. Others had been in the neighborhood for forty to fifty years. Gentilly Woods was built for the GI's when they returned from WWII. Now they are all gone, not just because they of age or infirmity, but because Katrina drove them away.

The house next to ours, a cute little green cottage, left to decay since the storm, was donated to some unknown person by its 74 year old resident. Nothing has been done there.

Glorys takes it all in stride. "You do what you have to do," she says with a slight shrug and smile. "I might just buy that little place across from me. They want $20,000." It is gutted and ready for someone to take care of.

Glorys is moving on and coming back. One our of thousands is a poor ratio. When will the tide turn? Or has Katrina and her sister Rita convinced those thousands that they should not return?

The city sleeps on it for now.

R

Hearts Like Lions

We are on our third day working the damage sites and I have the honor of being the chief cook and bottle washer for our group. In the mornings, our crew shuffles in to the kitchen, bedraggled, tired and sore from the day before and yet coming to greet the day with hearts like lions. Their bodies don't always cooperate but they push anyway... shoulders against the enormous weight of desperation and negativity that was thrust upon New Orleans. They work tirelessly to restore in some small way the dignity and hope of a people that were laid bare by the devestation of Nature's wrath and man's ignorance. There are some among us who are not Christian per se but they still do the work of God in this world. They soften their hearts to give succor to those of us who become raw from the emotional side of this thing we are doing, they go into swarming insects and other vermine and tear out rotten boards and walls to make destroyed houses into homes again. People's belongings that are found are treated with the utmost respect... almost reverance and it is evident that our lion soldiers have hearts as big as the sky. It is , I think, this humanity... this "humaneness" that the world could use alot more of. Think about how wonderful the world would be if everyone treated each other with the kindness that is shown here every day in ways both large and small; visible and invisible. To anyone who has been here, or that may come here and to those who pray for this place, remember that you shine; lion hearts, kind, loving souls... you shine. Annie

They Came

A family representative came by last evening after we left and found the few items we were able to salvage. They contacted our coordinator, Marcie, and she said they were most appreciative. Imagine if strangers had to go through your possessions after such a diaster and had to choose what to keep and what to throw away? And you might wonder why they chose a dress, a doll, some papers, a ceramic troll, an old flute, a light fixture, etc. I they would have to tell you, because that was all they could save. Imagine. Rob

Star Fish

I would like to thank everyone who is working on this mission.Those of you who have made the trip possible with your love,prayers and financial support.You all are part of this work. The Redlands UCC just came back from a work trip to New Oleans.One of the stories they shared upon returning was a tale of starfish.The story goes something like this:

A father and son where walking along the beach after a storm.The storm had washed hundreds of starfish up on to the beach.The sun had come out and the starfish were in danger of dying.The child picked two up and ran to the sea.He wadded out into the ocean and lovingly returned the starfish home.When he returned to his father the dad explained that there were too many starfish on the beach to help,that there was no point in trying,that it wouldn't make a difference.The boy responded that it certainly DID make a dfference to those two starfish.

One home,one life at a time you start to put the pieces together. Again thanks to all,thanks to our friends at Redlands UCC for their love and support.Please keep the work group in your thoughts and prayers as they continue the task of returning starfish one and two at a tme to the sea. Anonymous

A Servant's Heart...

Today we worked. Wearing paper and plastic coveralls, masks to keep us from breathing the black mold, gloves and safety glassess, we walked into a house where the flood waters reached 7 to eight feet high. The furniture that was left was tossed about the room as if they had been weightless. We found treasured family photos where the picture had been washed away. We found two dolls that we named Brenda and Sylvia and had them sitting up to remind us that real people once lived in this house. Somehow a few things survived. Yearbooks in good condition. Some photos with recognizable faces and trinkets we hope are meaningful to this family. We worked hard and long. We were hot, sweaty and tired, but we all kept going. Everyone encouraged and helped each other. A good day. We made good progress. We will return to this house tomorrow. We have a lot to learn about ourselves, each other,the people who endured the storm in New Orleans and our relationsip with God. I pray that God continues to give each a servant's heart. It is turning out to be a great week! Sue S.

Dawn and Dawning

It rained last night. Did it wash away the remnants of yesterday? Did it cleanse the soil and refresh all the living things? Dawn has come, and with it, the dawning again, that this is reality. that this is how things were left and how they progress. We arise and do out dance to the morning, and get ready for another day of clearing the way for another lost home to be rebuilt.

The mosquitoes are terrible. Everywhere! Even the natives are amazed to have them in January. It is warm while we here that it is cold and frosty in Riverside. They are predicting a high of 44 today here in N.O. Perhaps at least the mosquitoes will stay in their homes which were probably long ago rebuilt. They take care of their own without question.

Yesterday in the front bedroom there was a notice stuck to the wall. It may have been taped at one time, but now is permanently adhered to the panelling. It it the memorial notice for a family member who passed in 2003. It is now a permanent part of this house...or was. It cannot be saved. It will be removed along with the panelling, which also cannot be saved...like so much else. Like so much else.

And so, the day begins.
Rob

Pictures

We are taking many, many pictures. As soon as I find a way to download them, I will begin posting them. We will also be doing a presentation on our experiences in four to six weeks after our return.
Rob

Suzette, Brenda and Yosemite Sam

We met our family today...in the ruins, in what they left behind. The water we found in this house on Louisa Street in the 9th ward belonged to a family who needed a six bedroom house. Two rooms were not yet emptied. The rest of the house, having been soaked in what is called "Katrina Punch" and then dried out about 75% (we found the punch in the bathtub, in the toilets, a kitchen drawer, and nooks and crannies you would have thought would have dried out months ago...New Orleans is not Southern California), was ripe for gutting.

And so we ripped, tore, pulled down, cut, slashed, pried loose, shook, toted to the street, the drive, the curb all the plaster, the fittings, the doors, the fixtures. We searched through and then threw away all the mementos, the papers, the books (there were MANY books) that we wished we could save but were too saturated with mold and mildew to save.

We did find papers of I think might have been the mother, Suzette, who had gone to college and became a social worker (I think) and Brenda, a daughter, who read voraciously, (based on the number of books we found, and loved study or write. And in the bottom of a closet we found a papier machez (sp?) bust of Yosemite Sam. It was about 18 inches tall and was in fairly good shape until I tried to move it and it disintegrated in my hands.

We worked from 8:30 until about 3. It was a lifetime. And tomorrow we will return to do more. This is just one of the 6200 homes the UCC has on it's waiting list. And it is just one of the homes of the thousands of homes in Louisiana, Alabama, and Mississippi that were destroyed by the storm.

We were true missionairies today, on a mission to get a small part in a very broken puzzle back together.

Rob

All Gone..

Yesterday we toured the damage area. Homes ripped apart, memories scattered to the winds and left to Nature's mercy. There were sewing machines laying in puddles of fetid mud. I wondered how many garments were lovingly made on it. How many baby blankets, how many costumes for the school play. I wondered about the hands that threaded the needle and pushed the fabric. Gloves sit forgotten in the same soup. Probably belonging to the hands that sewed. Another house has a cooking pot sitting forgotten on the front porch. How many meals were cooked in it? This was someone's dream home. Meals lovingly cooked and served to an eager family; prayers said and babies tucked in. Memories of hearth and home. All gone... along with the people who dreamed the dreams. Now black mold and broken glass live along with the insects and rats. Rack and ruin reign in this place. So many people are trying to help.. desperate to do something. It is just slow and hard. It was strange to be in a neighborhood where there were no people. It felt like the end of the world. All gone.... We are here trying to assimilate what has happened and not happened. Some of the people will never come back... some are dead, some are afraid, they have learned that they are not safe in their homes. They are no longer part of the dream. This place is a raw wound. God, give me strength. Lord of heaven, heal this place and her people. Bring back the families hold them in the palm of your strong hand. Lord, you know our hearts better than we ourselves do. Reach into our hearts and make them whole again. Give us peace in the midst of our troubles. Help us to always remember, you are God.

We get our assignment....

Last night we were oriented to the program by Rev. Alan Coe of the UCC Recovery Unit, but since we are getting ready to leave right now, I will go into that later.
We are going to a home that needs to be gutted. We are told the personal effects have been removed, but...how do you remove memories and the essence of a family?

We will be without power, without facilities, without any of the comforts we take for granted. But we will be with hope and a desire to get someone closer to coming home again.

That is what this is all about. Bringing people home.

Rob

Ruined

We went on a tour this afternoon of the devastated areas of New Orleans and its suburbs. Thousands of homes, and I do not exaggerate, remain destroyed, unihabitable or waiting to be rebuilt. We took pictures to try to capture the feeling and bring evidence back with us. But it is hard to describe the feeling of walking up to what was once someone's lovely little home in what was a neighborhood of families, friends and people who are now all gone and may never return. I went inside a couple of the homes that have still not been touched since Katrina. Windows blown out, doors ajar and the house off it foundations, you could sense the ghosts of the people who had resided there until August 2005. The debris inside and out was all that remained. And although many houses have been removed leaving bear foundations or front porch steps to nowhere, nothing speaks to the heart more than finding a Playskool picnic table in the midst of overgrown weeds, a pearl-shell windchime at the door of house with nothing left inside other than bear framing and mold.
Tonight we will be told our assignment. We will be strong and know that we are giving our best. Perhaps the more we share our experience, the more we keep the need of the people here in the minds of all of us, we will have done good beyond our work here, maybe somehow circulating the God has given us here and inspired us and those who here these stories to, at last, do something.

Rob

The Christian Thing to Do...

When Katrina hit the Gulf Coast and New Orleans, one of it's victims was the Central United Church of Christ. A predominantly black church it found it's sanctary virtually destroyed by the flood and the winds of Katrina. Shortly thereafter they were invited to worship and share the facilites of St. Matthew's, our host church in this mission trip. This morning we attended services there. The title of the sermon was "Giving God Our Best". It was delivered by Rev. Wilmer Brown, the paster of the Central UCC. It was based on the water to wine miracle of Jesus, but it was so much more about giving God, and, yes, giving life your best and holding nothing in reserve.
Rev. Brown spoke of the tradition of being "defeated by the food of your host." What is meant by that is a good host tries to have so much food and hospitality to bestow upon a guest, that the guest in more than satisfied, he is "defeated" by the food...the food is more than he can take and he is not hungry when he leaves the table. That is the Christian thing to do. To give your best and not reserve it for the end. That when serving the wine, do not give a round of the good stuff until your guests are in a state that they can no longer distinguish the good from the mediocre. Give the good stuff. Give the best you have--always. Do not hold back from those you serve because if you do, you are holding back from God the father, the Source of your good in the First Place.
What a good homily for us to hear as we embark upon our mission of helping to rebuild this city.
And what a good display we witnessed of two very different congregations coming together in a unique blend, giving their best, coming together and forging a new blend of worship and unity. From the ruins arise new beginings. Inspiration comes from those who are not afraid to always give their best...

Rob

New Orleans

You can feel the sadness of a soul trying to recover from violence. There is, every once in a while, the glimmer of a smile here and there but there is sadness and a forlorn quality in the faces of the people. I looked out at the mighty mississippi and wondered what secrets she holds. The air has a sweet perfume. The river smells earthy and loamy. New Orleans, lady of the water, you will be made whole someday. Remember I love you.

We Arrive

Simply put, we are here. The plane trip was uneventful. The weather here met us with a shining sun. Driving in, we saw evidence of the storm along the 10 freeway, but now we know we are to see and experience much, much more. Tomorrow after joining St. Matthew's for Sunday service, we will be taking a tour of some of the major areas of devastation. Perhaps, that is when reality will hit. Now it is an adventure, tomorrow, perhaps a true mission. We are steeled against the devil so to speak, but know we need your continuing love and prayers.
Tomorrow night we will get our assignment and orientation. Could be tearing out, could building up, could be cleaning, could be most anything because the need is so overwhelmingly great. We know that, yet reality has not hit us, I imagine. Tomorrow...tomorrow we will know.

We did take a brief tour of the Garden District, the French Quarter and the banks of the Mississippi. Evidence is everywhere from traffic signals that are still not working to markings on the sides of buildings. And the people...the people all seem to glad to see us and always say thank you for coming.

So wish us a good night's sleep because with the dawn comes the dawning.

Rob

Here We Go !!!

When this started, I thought it would be fun. Go to New Orleans and help some people... Boy was I ignorant. Not until I was seriously planning did I really look at what happened there. I knew only what the news station fed me. That's pretty much the way I tend to take things. Not Good Goddess! Once I found out more and realized the horror these people lived through and died because of, my heart broke and where it broke, New Orleans took hold. The faces of the people and the culture took root in a special place in me. God, forgive my ignorance, my complacent attitude and give me the grace to really reach someone in your name; for your glory.

Neither Rain, nor Snow, nor dark of night....

The time is drawing nigh. We will be underway shortly. Some are going by car, some by plane. But even snow in Riverside or dark before the dawn departure will keep us from getting on our way.
What will we see? What will we experience? Will we always know that God is with us and with those we seek to help? We are but a small part of a large grassroots effort to do what our government has not...put lives back together. I can only imagine what this means. And I pray that we will never find ourselves doing this to make ourselves feel better, but to make a difference and be God's instrument in this world!
Rob

The Adventure Begins...

We are all very excited as we begin what for some of us in our first mission trip anywhere. We chose New Orleans because of our connection to St Matthew's United Church of Christ there and because the plight of the people there so touched our hearts. It has been almost a year and a half and still there are homes untouched and people homeless because the world was too quick to forget.
On Saturday January 13th, most of us will fly from the warmth and security of our homes in sunny California to go to where just electricity, gas and water can no longer be taken for granted. We know the God is still speaking, and we believe he is speaking through us in this our mission trip 2007.