As the title of today's blog indicates - things in my heart are not at peace. There's the whole issue of the proposed "marriage amendment" to the Texas constitution which is so blatantly discriminatory and down-right hateful that all I can do is encourage EVERYONE to vote "NO" on this amendment (Proposition 2) at the polls. For more information please visit
http://www.nononsenseinnovember.com/905/index2.php and then ACT! Go out to the polls and vote "No!" PLEASE!
But there are heavier burdens on my heart today. Some of our dear friends and family are aware that my bf and I were approached several weeks ago to move to New Orleans for a period of 18-24 months or longer and act as foremen for disaster relief, clean-up and restoration/construction crews. At that time we both felt led to do this and had begun necessary arrangements without having a contract or anything concrete in hand. Since then the government and insurance companies have been tying things up in bureaucratic red-tape and slowing, if not completely halting, some of the restoration and clean-up work needed. Because of this - insurance claims have been very very slow to pay and we have been waiting for projects to become available. We are still very committed to going down there and working to rebuild the city. We are also very mindful of our responsibilities to our families and need to make sure that the contracts are written so that everyone will be adequately taken care of.
In the meantime - we were asked last week to drive a work crew of 24 men (some as young as 17) from Dallas to New Orleans to work with the group of Disaster Relief leaders already on site. So we agreed to do that. We both figured it would be a good way to assess what is really going on, and to help determine what we should be doing, if anything, to prepare to make the move ourselves. We were not prepared for the sights and smells that were waiting for us. And, we've been told - things are about 400 percent better now than the weeks immediately following hurricane Katrina and then additional flooding caused by Rita.
The camp site for the crew is made up of two trailers for the Disaster Relief company owners, and foremen already on site. The 24 men we brought with us were placed in a variety of 2 to 5-man tents situated in an old junk yard just a few hundred yards from the airport. You would think that there would be better places to set up camp - but honestly - this is one of the few locations that have power! The camp is very rudimentary, with a single port-a-potty for the men to share - and a converted port-a-potty for a shower. Their days, weeks and months ahead will be filled with hard work, starting at 5:30 or 6am each day - working 60 plus hours each week, dragging trash, knocking down walls and eventually - rebuilding.
As for the city of New Orleans - no pictures, video or words can really express the vastness of the destruction down there. No one will ever truly be able to comprehend the full impact on the emotional state of the residents who have left and the few who have chosen to remain. As we drove past downtown and the French Quarter on Interstate 10 heading east - we noticed the small pockets that still had power. What was overwhelming were the miles and miles of utter darkness - or "blackness" that shadowed what should have been bustling malls, shopping centers, businesses and residence communities. On the east and north ends of the Quarter, there was blackness as far as the eye could see. There were no lights on the freeway. No working lights at the on and off ramps. No electricity anywhere for miles and miles. We peered into the darkness and could just make out shapes of buildings, and signs. We pulled off of the interstate and entered the darkened ghost town that used to be the majority of New Orleans. Everything was still. There was not light. There was no movement. There was no noise save for the few cars that buzzed through on the interstate. But what was so eerie looking at night - became even more nightmarish and unreal during the daylight hours.
What was only "blackness" at night, became these ghostly neighborhoods, completely abandoned, covered in dust and salt from the ocean and lake water that covered every inch of ground and several vertical feet - up to 20 feet in some places.
Each building and even some of the abandoned cars were marked with spray-painted codes indicating dates, water levels, number of people found, number and types of animals found, and other codes identifiable only to those trained to know their meanings. Some houses had the doors and windows open, some shut. You could look into these places and it seemed as if life had just ceased in an instant. There was food on the tables. There were household belongings and cherished treasures left behind. In fact you could find almost everything in place as it had been just before the hurricane hit and the flooding took over. Sure there was also wind damage in a lot of places - but what was more apparent was the flood damage. And what you couldn't find in these neighborhoods - was any sign of life. There were no people. No pets. No birds in the trees. No sounds of birds. Nothing living. Just stillness, destruction and salty dust covering everything.
As we drove through, I thought about how much effort would be required to haul away all of the thousands and thousands of cars, and refrigerators, and washers and dryers, and appliances and garbage, and and .... so much trash. I had heard that some neighborhoods would be dozed - completely razed and reduced to flat ground. I had already seen mountains of debris piled up two or three stories tall. And the clean-up has only barely begun!
Then I started to grasp the idea that even if every home, building, garage, storage shed and dog house were to be rebuilt exactly as it had been before the storm - the area would still never, ever be the same. Why? Because of the salt water which had soaked the ground in the flooded areas. In place of green grass, shrubberies, and majestic palms, oaks, pecans, crepe myrtles and many other types of flora - were rust colored husks, dead from the root to the crown. Many of the taller trees were falling over. Some easily a hundred years old or older. When I finally began to comprehend how deeply the destruction had sunk into the fiber of New Orleans - I began to understand why some former residents had vowed never to return. Perhaps they already understood - their home, their beloved crescent city, would never be the same again.
So I pray. I pray for the people who are yet displaced with little resources and little hope. I pray for the people who are able to return home - realizing that home is forever changed. I pray for the hopeless and for those who are clinging to hope. I pray that hope will grow and continue to grow and flourish into a dream come true. I believe, that like the Phoenix, New Orleans will rise from the ashes and become a living, vibrant creature yet again. I also know that other storms will come - and this jewel of a city in the gulf must be rebuilt better and stronger than it has ever been in the past. Only then can we rest.
I pray for that city and for the freedom and spirit that city represents to me now. God bless us all - and please continue to pray and to help when and where and however you can.
And finally - Mrs. Rosa Parks, sweet light of truth - may your courageous spirit rest in peace.
Peace to all...
- bbw
