C'Ville 1st Pres Mission in New Orleans

BLOG TIME

2012-01-23T19:15:00.001-08:00

My original gameplan for this blog was to describe each day’s adventures, weaving in storiesfrom my teammates as the week progressed. However, as it turns out that plan is not working, as you may havenoticed from the difference between the posting date and the day beingdescribed.

We get up inthe morning about 6:30, dress and head over to the dining hall for breakfast(though some of us even go for a run). Though I offered to oversee all the mealswe’re responsible for, David Forney deserves special blessings for volunteeringto cover breakfast each day. He’s one ofthose folks who wakes up early and actually has a functioning brain at 5a.m. He is joined by some of hisroommates to assume the breakfast duties each morning – and a fine job theydo! I believe I heard that his pancakeflipping technique was acquired when he worked at a restaurant in his studentdays. Julie Sparks graciously contributeda batch of her favorite cheese grits to one morning’s menu, much to thepuzzlement of our Yankee colleagues from New Jersey and New York.

After breakfast,and before the food is put away at 7:30, we pack our lunches for the day andthe men haul the big coolers and water jugs out to the van for transport to theworksites. Then it’s time forchores. On a rotating basis those rangefrom cleaning up the showers to emptying wastebaskets and hauling the trash andrecyclables, to cleaning toilets, etc. Followingchores, we head off to work for the day.

When wereturn in the late afternoon, our first priority is showers and, forsome, getting things under way for dinner. I could carve out some time then towrite the day’s postings, but where shall I do it? There are 13 of us in the ladies’ side of the“barracks.” Last year, we were the onlygroup at the Olive Tree so there was the option of going over to the mainbuilding and finding a place to work without distraction, but this year thereare three groups – over 60 people – and there is no quiet little corner. I’m just tired enough by the end of the daythat I really can’t tune out commotion around me to concentrate. Already, I see some errors in earlierpostings. The Saints lost to the SanFrancisco 49ers- so where did I get the Chargers?! And Thomas, the young site supervisor at myworksite, graduated from UNC, not NC State. Duh.

So, I’lljust get things written as possible and abandon the idea of a dailyaccount. I’ll be bugging other teammembers to contribute their impressions, recollections and work accounts – and,yes, we’ll try to get photos up soon, as promised.

We havecertainly been blessed with ideal weather! With the exception of one night with thunderstorms and a little fit ortwo of sprinkles, we’re having sunny skies, balmy breezes and daytimetemperatures mostly in the high 60’s and well into the 70’s – not to rub itin. For the many of us who are workingoutdoors at our sites, this is an unexpected and cherished boon.

As we driveto and from our jobs and on other errands, we can’t help noticing that “we’renot in Kansas anymore.” Where else doyou see highway billboards advertising companies that will raise your houseabove flood level? Or that will haulaway your broken concrete? Or ads for BlueRunner gumbo mix? Then there are all thelaw firms urging people not to sign off on insurance settlements until theyhave reviewed your claim. You knowyou’re in another world when your site supervisor is listening to a radio as heworks that runs commercials for the best place to buy beads – for Mardi Gras,of course. “Who Dat?” is heard prettymuch everywhere and the wait staff in one eating spot clown around and performthe Saints cheer, “One, two, three – Who Dat?!” Drew Brees is pictured on billboards endorsing Pepsi. It’s not every lunch counter in Virginia thatoffers turkey necks and pigs’ feet for your dining delight. Po’ Boy sandwiches are the popular order ofthe day – fried shrimp, oysters, clams, etc. are piled high on a long roll(often a foot or longer) and if you want it “dressed,” it comes with lettuce,tomato and pickle slices. There’susually a bottle of Tabasco or other hot sauce for those who want some sizzle.

While we’reon the subject of food, there were a number of requests for the recipe forPicadillo, a dish we made one evening instead of the tacos that were on theOlive Tree menu. Bon appétit!

Picadillo

Ino longer remember where this recipe came from, but it’s been in the familycollection for several decades. Itbecame a popular mission trip tradition with a Southwest Virginia team. Greatserved with rice, mashed potatoes, couscous or orzo (buttered and sprinkledwith chopped fresh parsley.) It needs only a salad, crusty bread and dessert tomake a meal. Serves 6-8.

3 tablespoons olive oil
2 pounds ground beef
1 cup chopped onions
1 clove crushed garlic
1 cup tomatoes, chopped (preferablypeeled and seeded)
2 medium cooking apples, peeled andchopped
1/2 cup raisins
10 pimiento-stuffed olives, slicedcrosswise
1/8 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon ground cloves
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper
1/2 cup slivered almonds

Brown meat in olive oil; add onions andgarlic. Reduce heat and cook 4-5minutes. Add remaining ingredientsexcept almonds. Simmer 20 minutes overlow heat. Lightly brown almonds in oilin separate skillet and add to mixture just before serving.

2012-01-18T20:10:00.001-08:00

AT LAST

It’s Mondaymorning and today, at last, we’ll be getting started on the work we came hereto do.

Sunday nightthe Olive Tree staff grilled burgers and hot dogs for our dinner. After that, we had a presentation providingsome basic background information about the Olive Tree facility’s history andthe organization that provides structure for the construction projects. This place was once an active church untilthe congregation merged with another and the buildings were converted to apreschool. The organizational structure ofProject Homecoming has also evolved – from an entity under the Presbyterianumbrella to a 501c3 that has Prebytery representation on their board, but thatis now independent. This changeapparently makes it more feasible to pursue grant funding.

This morningafter breakfast we have a chance to finally meet our project managers and get abriefing about the work for the week. Our group of 28 had been told we would be working on four homes, butthis morning we find out that there are actually five. The unexpected additionis about a block away from one of them and is nearly finished, but there is alot of painting needed and other punch list items to prepare it for the ownerto move back. After a flurry ofnegotiating about how to re-allocate crew members, we are finally on our way. My group is going to Louisiana Parkway towork on the two houses there, including the new one. Murray, Don Dougald and Ed Gatewood will workin one house to paint, cut and install baseboard and other moldings as theirfirst project. Elizabeth Gatewood, MaryLou Fowler and I head to the nearly completed house.

The streetis a lovely thoroughfare lined with huge old live oak trees whose limbs stretchso close to their neighbors that a squirrel could travel the length of thestreet and never touch the ground. Eachhouse is unique with paint jobs and elaborate trim as colorful as any in theCaribbean and most of them lovingly tended. Here and there is a blighted exception including the one next door toour project that is clearly falling apart.

Thomas isour supervisor, a nice young fellow who graduated from NC State as a historymajor with a minor in something like social justice: “the righteous path to alaw degree,” he says – “maybe”. He’s astrapping 6’4” fellow who has twice bicycled across country and doneinternational hiking treks. We hope all thathas prepared him for three ladies of a certain age who don’t do ladders, butwho will work hard and well and who have strong ideas of how things should bedone properly.

The weatheris gorgeous and unseasonably warm, perfect for all the exterior paintingneeded. The house has two units: thedownstairs where the owner will live and an upstairs apartment for a futuretenant. Both main entrances are on thefront of the house up about six stairs. On the left side toward the back is another exterior door with a similarflight of steps. On the right side,there are about twenty steps up to the second floor. All of them are bare wood in need of primingand painting and they all have about a zillion balusters. Just inside the front door to the upstairs apartmentthere is a broad and long stairway that also needs to be painted. We have our work cut out for us and feel ameasure of urgency to get the exterior painting done while the weather holds.

Elizabethand Mary Lou get to the two front stairs with the primer and brushes and Itackle the big back stairway. We’vealready warned Thomas that there will be areas of that one we won’t be able toreach and that none of us feels that an extension ladder should be in our future. He laughs and tells us to do what we can andhe’ll finish what we can’t reach.

Painting isa meditative job – in some ways mind numbing, but in some ways liberating inits repetition. As I paint alone in the back I become consciousof all the neighborhood sounds, including the frequent screams of sirens andthe occasional thwack of a helicopter. There must be a hospital nearby with a trauma center. Hopefully, we’ll have no occasion to gain anyfirst-hand knowledge of it. A very loud rhythmic sound approaches andsoon I see a young man driving a car with a very flat front tire – clearly he’sgoing to need a new wheel, too.

In itsnearly completed state, our house has a bathroom and the men make their way upthe street from time to time to use it. As we sit around on the ledges outside their house to share lunches webrought, we hear about their frustration with having so much debris in the waythat it’s making their work more difficult than it should be. And it’s slow tedious work they’re doinganyway.

In theafternoon, Elizabeth comes around the corner of the house calling me to comemeet our homeowner. Irma has dropped byto say hello, thank us for our labor and to see the progress. In the next few minutes, she shares her storywith us.

Her motherlives across the street in the next block and when Katrina was forecast, Irma,her brother and five cousins decided to weather the storm with her mother whosehouse is a three-story home that has seen many hurricanes in its nearly100-year history. Indeed, the hurricanecame on Monday and left tree debris and about three feet of water that quicklydrained away. When Irma inspected herhouse, she saw that her backyard fence had blown down, one window had a littledamage and she had a lot of branches to rake up – all in all, not bad. She returned to her mother’s house. On Tuesday, she looked out the window andagain saw about three feet of water. “Where did that come from?” she wondered and noted that the water wasrising. Every half hour it was noticeablyhigher than before. Ultimately, theflood waters reached 11 feet in her neighborhood and the family retreatedhigher in the house. After they heardhelicopters outside, her brother managed to make a hole in the roof so he couldget outside to signal the choppers. Atlast, the family was evacuated one by one in a basket swinging under theaircraft. They were taken to anevacuation site near a bridge where they remained until they could be sent to acenter in Houston. Irma worked for abank that continued paychecks for its employees, provided extra payments for afew weeks and provided a corporate apartment for another few weeks to help theemployees begin to get back on their feet.

After theywere able to return to New Orleans, Irma’s insurance coverage provided some moneyfor home renovation, but she was ripped off twice by contractors and when thedust settled, she was out of money and still out of her home.

She thanksus profusely, professes her faith in the Lord and marvels at how He hasprovided, through volunteers, a way for her to renew her life. She’s been through a truly traumaticexperience, including being preyed upon by unscrupulous contractors, but sheglows when she talks about her faith, how excited she is to be nearly homeagain, and about her gratitude for our help.

At last,she’s coming home.

2012-01-17T20:55:00.001-08:00

It’s Another Year

Today isSunday and we start our week with a hearty breakfast sent along for us in thechurch van. Nancy Roche was unable tojoin us this time, but she sent a tasty breakfast casserole and several loavesof banana and pumpkin bread. While a fewof our party stay behind to deal with some maintenance issues at the Olive Tree(figuring out why there’s no heat in the shower trailer, replacing light bulbsso that all four in the bathroom will work instead of just one, enhancing thefunctioning of some toilets, etc.) a couple of groups go off to churchservices. Murray and I join the groupgoing to Lakeview Presbyterian Church where there’s a very nice organ and awelcoming congregation. It turns outthat our West Side colleagues are going, too.

A closerelationship has developed since Lakeview supported West Side after our fire inJanuary 2002 and West Siders volunteered for post-Katrina relief. Jack Gardner from the New Jersey church hasbeen invited to lead the children’s sermon for this morning’s services. He does a great job getting the kids toengage. Following the service, we jointhe crowd at the coffee hour where there is an impressive spread ofrefreshments. We hear stories from someof the local folks about their Katrina experiences, including a woman named Patwho teaches autistic children. She makesthe point that it was not really Katrina that caused so much damage, but thehuman error that led to the failed levees. In fact, she still seems angry that her area suffered because the mayorsent home - instead of keeping on duty - the people who could have controlledthe pumps to mitigate the disaster.

The Lakeviewchurch was under water after Katrina and had to rebuild, but so many folks leftNew Orleans that their congregation is now half the size it was. With the help of contributions from othergroups, a fenced playground and meditation garden have been built in whatbecame an empty lot next door to the church.

After churchwe head to Castnet for another seafood lunch only to find them closed onSundays. So we stop at Captain Sal’s upthe street from the Olive Tree for our choice of seafood or Chinesedishes. It’s also the only place I’veever seen that advertises drive-through daiquiris. What a concept - who knew?

Theafternoon is spent in various excursions. One group goes back to visit the Hyde family whose house we worked onlast year (see the 2011 blog). ThomasHyde again sings the song I Have Hopethat he sang for our crew last year and this time the visitors are able to joinin the chorus. Last year Keith Bergerhad brought along a pink flamingo yard ornament as something of a gag, butafter we met Thomas and his son last year, Keith wrote on it with a marker “IHave Hope” and we all signed it. Thatsame flamingo is now prominently featured in the little garden in front of thehouse, still sporting the signatures and message. This time, the visitors from our crew bring adecorative garden rock with “Hope” carved in it and Thomas Hyde places that inthe garden near the flamingo.

Murray and Iare part of a group that tours around to visit the four house projects that we’llbe working on this week. One site onOverton Avenue is barely under way – not a reconstruction, but newconstruction. Some of the lots wherehouses were abandoned and finally razed are being re-developed and the eventualsale profits will go back into the Project Homecoming coffers. This house has nothing vertical just yet – onlyfoundation and most of the first level subfloor (if I have the terminologycorrect). Another house is on ParisAvenue and there’s another on Louisiana Parkway. There will be much more about each of theseprojects in upcoming postings.

One laststop before heading back to Olive Tree: the dollar store just around the corner to see what sort of cheap matswe can pick up to use outside the showers. By the time our 28 people and 17 from the West Side team all step out ofthe shower onto the bare floor, there is a prodigious puddle – not to mentionthe hazard of slipping. We certainly donot need any falls for this crowd: there are those who have had multiple backsurgeries, a neck fusion, hip replacement, etc. and let’s just allow that the average age of the group has beenseriously benefited by the addition this year of Hannah Walker and Drew andPeter Kennedy. The ibuprofen andnaproxen concession could be a lucrative venture. Happily, we find eight mats made of carpetremnants with rubberized backing – not exactly Architectural Digest material, but they should serve the purposefor the shower units in the trailer built for that purpose, four each for themen and women.

We arejoined today by 11 young people from Manhattan College in New York, includingthe older brother of one of them. Welook forward to getting to know them this week. This will make nearly 60 people for breakfast and dinner, counting OliveTree staff. There are charts dividing upthe housekeeping chores so that everybody has a fair share of the load. We have volunteered to do the cooking onthose nights when the staff is not in exchange for the other groups taking overthe dishes and clean up duties. Thatseems to suit everybody’s wishes. Thestaff sets the menu for each week (pretty much the same weekly rotation) andbuys the groceries, so we’re fairly limited, but there’s some room fornegotiation if we purchase the groceries not already planned for.

Today hasbeen my birthday (don’t even ask) and the day ends with one of the more unusualbirthday celebrations I’ve ever enjoyed. As I sit in the day room at about 10 p.m. trying to finish up the last blog posting, the door suddenly bursts open. My roommates (there are 13 of us in theladies “dorm”) come parading in doing a rhythmic clapping routine as in somerestaurants and ice cream parlors and chanting a birthday greeting. Some are in their pajamas already. They present me with a wonderful cardeverybody has signed. It’s actually kindof a folder that contains a dozen Cajun recipes. A small paper bag is decorated with a heartand my name in the middle. It contains awonderful little New Orleans pin resembling a Mardi Gras mask. It is a Happy Birthday in New Orleans!

2012-01-16T16:28:00.001-08:00

STAND BY ME

It’s about 6a.m. in Charlotte this Saturday morning and while some of the group have goneon a quest for breakfast, several of us stand around a patch of seats in the airportgate area sharing tales of mission trips past. Stu Fears is holding forth and the animated conversation is punctuatedby bursts of laughter. We are, it mustbe admitted, a little loud in our early morning jollity. Perhaps we’re just a bit giddy from lack ofsleep since most of us were up by 3 a.m. or so to catch our flight fromCharlottesville.

Sharingthese stories reminds us of the fellowship that’s such a great part of thesemission trips – along with the sense of doing something that reallymatters. In the presence of so much destruction,there are still forces of healing and recovery; despite profound loss there is still the chance to winfresh rewards. We have chosen to be partof all that.

While we’rehere to help fix what can be repaired, we know there is pain we cannoterase. But we can at least stand withothers, hear them and let them know we care and that they are not alone. We see our work here this week as acontinuation of the mission of teams that have come before us for the past 6years to restore homes, neighborhoods, communities.

From time totime we glance toward the windows watching for the sunrise. As I stand there, I notice a young womansitting almost directly behind a column along the window wall just a few feetaway. She is on her cell phone and I can’thelp hearing her say in a choking voice, “Yes, I know, the nurse just toldme.” She is tearful as she ends her calland covers her face with her hands, sobbing silently. Evidently, she has no tissues because she soonbegins wiping her wet face with her hands. I hesitate because I don’t want to embarrass her, but finally I can’thelp walking over to her with a handful of tissues. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to intrude, butcouldn’t help noticing your distress. Would these be helpful?”

“My fatherjust died,” she blurts out, “and I couldn’t get there in time. I’ve been trying to get there from Californiato say goodbye, but now I’m too late.” She accepts the tissues and thanks me throughher tears. We exchange a few morecomments and finally I mention, “I can appreciate how you must feel. My father just died in April and I made aquick trip from Virginia to Michigan then. Even though your dad died before you could get there, I’m sure yourpresence will be a great comfort to your family as they will be for you.” With that, I pat her shoulder and leave heralone to have some private time despite the busy location.

By thistime, Wayne Turner has joined us, sporting a goofy hat over his baldinghead. With his own gray fringe below,the hat is made like a visor pulled over a thatch of reddish “hair” that sticksstraight up. A collection ofmulticolored striped candy canes are improbably lined up looping over his shirtpocket and he’s wearing a souvenir necklace from last year’s trip (see the 2011blog). Keith Berger had salvaged ribbones from the star of the 2011 raccoon stew and strung them with beads for asporty primitive look. Quite a picture. As we line up to board our flight, I can’thelp noting that the female airline attendant scanning our boarding passes hasa spiky hairdo uncannily like Wayne’s and several of us have a good chuckle.

After we’velanded in New Orleans, Stuart handles the van rental details and we’re soon onour way. Roger Authers is the designateddriver for one vehicle, Stu takes the second and we plan a rendezvous with thechurch van loaded with our luggage and gear that was driven down from Virginia byRich Lutz and Jeff McDaniels. TheKennedy clan will meet us at the same restaurant where we had lunch last yearon our first day. Bill Kennedy hasrecruited his adult sons Peter from Baltimore and Drew from Boston who havedriven down together with their cousin Hannah Walker. It’ll be great to have some young people onour work crews.

Castnet is alocal seafood and BBQ establishment near the levee at Lake Pontchartrain. No tourist trap, it’s a place where the localfolks go to buy freshly caught seafood on one side of the place and to put intheir orders for po boys and other cooked seafood specialties on the other. Lots of fried oysters, shrimp, catfish. For some of us the first order of business isto cross the highway and climb the embankment of the levee to see LakePontchartrain. On the way back down, Ispot a seashell that I pocket to add to my collection at home.

On our wayout of Castnet, we see a lady escorting a toddler whose hair is divided intotwo little ponytails tied with yellow and black net “ribbons.” She wears a yellow and black tutu with herblack Saints onesie and is downright adorable. Of course, our ladies all fuss over her and take her photo – attentionshe’s not altogether sure she likes. Shemay be one of the cutest Saints fans, but by no means the only one wearing teamgarb on this day of the big playoff game with the Chargers. The New Orleans citizenry do LOVE theirSaints football team.

We head toour home for the week at the Olive Tree Village to unload, unpack and make upour bunks. Good news – we have first floorrooms. The orthopedic crowd will have aneasier time of it this year. The men arebunked in unit #1 and the ladies next door in #2. A small bathroom with one toilet and one sinkwill be shared by all 28 of us. Obviously, it will be imperative to be mindful of knocking and also toremember to unlock both doors whenever each of us leaves the room so we’re notlocking out our comrades of the opposite gender. Happily, there are a couple of otherbathrooms in the main building, a former church, and in one of the mobile unitswhere the shower rooms are – options not so ideal during the middle of one ofthese cold nights, butwe’ll manage.

Since I havevolunteered to head up the cooking assignments for the week, Stu, Cheri Lewisand I scout out the kitchen situation. Thefirst thing I notice as I walk into the kitchen is the strong odor of gas. Whew. We open the outside door and a window and fetch Tasha, the Olive Treeadministrator on site to check it out. Turns out that the pilot light for the oven and one for the burners havegone out. She relights them – not asimple process – and I make a mental note to keep track of that situation.

As we chatwith Tasha we talk about the other teams joining us at the Olive Tree. One is coming from West Side Presbyterian Church. How interesting. Before Murray and I moved to Virginia in2002, we were members of a West Side church in Ridgewood, NJ for over 20years. Could it be? Tasha didn’t know where they were from, butas soon as she looked at her paperwork and said that the leader’s phone numberwas a 201 area code, I knew it had to be our former church. Would anyone on their team be people weknew?

At our teammeeting during half time of the football game, we gather in the women’sbarracks to talk briefly about the general game plan. We start, however, with Wayne recognizingStu’s leadership of so many of these mission trips. He presents to Stu a book about the homelessthat most of us have inscribed (Same Kindof Different as Me). Stu begins hisremarks by remembering three people who have been team members in the past, butwho have died – two of them just this year. Judith Lane was an early participant. This year Karen Kennedy and Dick Fowler passed away, but Bill Kennedyand Mary Lou Fowler continue their legacy on this team and we remember them allfondly.

Murray and Irun into familiar faces – Don and Beth Reeder and then Jef Berg. How fun! We do a quick catch-up standing on the walk outside the building. We were living in New Jersey when 9/11occurred, quite a traumatic event in our town where a number of people workedon Wall Street and some husbands and fathers never came home that day. Then in January, our church caught fire,apparently from faulty wiring near the organ console. The church was destroyed – or at least thebuilding. In the aftermath, localchurches offered worship space and other help. Churches from all over the country responded to our hour of need. One of them was Lakeview Presbyterian Churchin New Orleans. It was only natural then,that in Katrina’s wake, West Siders volunteered to come to New Orleans to returnthe favor. And still they come, stayingnow for the first time at the Olive Tree.

We head offto dinner in various groups with most of us going to another seafood place. As we walk in, pretty much everybody,including the wait staff, is focused on the last minutes of the Saints game showingon the big screen over the bar. There’s loudcheering when the Saints make a good play and agonized moans when things gobadly. With about 14 seconds left, theChargers score a touchdown and the Saints are out of the playoffs. The game is replaced by music and the normalrestaurant routine. Later, we hear thatthere are about 1,000 fans meeting the team at the airport. Even in defeat, their fans stand by theSaints. There’s always next year. There’s always somebody to cheer and support.There’s always hope.

2012 New Orleans Mission - We're Heading Back!

2012-01-11T13:40:00.000-08:00

Today is cold, dreary and rainy in Charlottesville, but some of us are already getting excited about this year's return to The Big Easy to continue with post-Katrina repairs for a few of the worthy citizens of that special place. It's nice to think of "Big Easy" while we can, but we know it won't be so easy when we get into our quarters at the Olive Tree compound and get started on the projects we'll be assigned.

Stuart Fears is back as our "fearless leader" organizing this year's trip and he has learned from the folks running the Olive Tree that we will be one of three groups staying there this time - about 60 people in all and we'll be almost half that number. He has requested that we be placed in first floor quarters - something to do with a lot of creaky knees, especially at the end of a long and arduous day.

Our mission team was officially "commissioned" in church services last Sunday and it was interesting to see that other folks in the congregation were thanking us for doing this. What they may not realize just now is that we consider it a privilege to be able to actually make a significant difference in other peoples' lives. Those of us who have done this before are eager to visit with the people whose houses we worked on last year and to see them actually enjoying their restored homes. If you read some of the blog postings from 2011, you'll understand.

The veterans on the team are also really tickled to welcome some newbies. It will be fun to watch their reactions to the sights and relationships and also it will be great to have some younger folks to share the workload!

A few folks will be driving down to New Orleans, including a couple driving the church van full of equipment and baggage (suitcases, sleeping bags, tools, etc.). The rest of us will be flying out of the local airport after arriving there by 4:15 AM (special group flight deal since we'll have only our carry-on bags).

So, Saturday morning, if you're awake and happen to hear a plane about 5:15, before you roll over and go back to sleep, please say a little prayer for the success of this year's mission and know that the First Presbyterian team is counting its blessings for being able to help.

This year's team includes church members and their family and friends: Roger Authers, Keith Berger, Don Dougald, Stu Fears, our new senior pastor Dr. David Forney, Mary Lou Fowler, Elizabeth and Ed Gatewood, Dana Henderson, Murray and Dory Hulse, Bill Kennedy and sons Peter and Andrew, Cheri Lewis, Rich Lutz, Jeff McDaniel, Eleanor Maloney, June Moon, Bill Moyers, Kaki Pearson, Cindy and John Schmaduke, Julie Sparks, Pam and Wayne Turner, Debbie Vermillion, and Hannah Walker.

Real Warmth on a Cold Day

2011-01-23T19:27:00.000-08:00

Friday is our last day on the work sites. So far this blog has been focused on the Derbigny site, but your blogging friend is asking her colleagues on our 17-member team to contribute descriptions of their experiences and observations to be included before this chain of postings comes to an end. Since a blog is by its nature a personal account, this series has covered my observations and experiences shared with my work site team. It will be fun for us all to hear other perspectives.

Friday is a freezing cold morning. When we arrive at Derbigny there is a car waiting for us. Thomas Hyde, Sr. and Jr. are here to greet us, bringing with them the donuts they had promised earlier in the week. Bar none, these are the most delicious donuts I've ever had - and they're still warm! There is a local source that makes them fresh throughout the day. Light and airy, these glazed donuts are a great way to begin the day. We all go in from the cold. The metal bench we've been using to climb on is moved into the kitchen and used as a table - the first "meal" to be served in the renovated kitchen. After a few minutes and when everyone has taken a donut, we insist that Thomas, Sr. sit down and rest himself.  Soon he'll be on his way for another doctor's appointment and asks that we all pray for "good numbers" for him.

He introduces his handsome son who has played a bit part in a Hollywood production, but who has now put his own life on hold to help care for his father and help his parents through their Katrina recovery. Thomas, Jr. has obviously absorbed the qualities of his father. He tells us that this house has always been home not only to his own nuclear family, but also to cousins and others taken in by his parents. It is a giving and loving family. We're sorry we haven't had a chance to meet Mrs. Hyde, but we're told she's at work.

It gives us extra pleasure to announce a special gift for them We have learned that their home reconstruction will not include any appliances. Dana reads aloud a letter she has written on behalf of all of us to let them know that they will soon receive a monetary gift from their friends at First Pres. Some of the money comes from an anonymous donor and some comes from our team. Both men have tears in their eyes, thank us profusely and announce this will indeed be helpful in purchasing appliances. We remind them that they are also giving us the gift of being able to assist them. By this time, we have all signed Keith's pink plastic flamingo that bears on its back "I have hope" and it is presented as a lighthearted and sincere message of our caring wishes for their future. Thomas, Jr. tells us he is planning to marry in April 2012 and invites us all to come. Whether any of us is able to attend in person, we'll all be there in spirit! We're also told that this flamingo will eventually be a treasured yard ornament. We pray together, each of us feeling a personal gratitude for our shared experience. Once again, Thomas Hyde thanks God and us and makes it clear that he sees us as instruments sent to help him maintain his faith and hope in addition to helping to rebuild his home. We share his tears and his joy.
Not only is the cold uncomfortable, but it also delays the drying process of the taping compound.  Stuff that was applied yesterday more than 12 hours ago is still wet and that means we can't apply another coat just yet. There is a salamander kerosene heater in the house and in due course Marta and her supervisor crank it up. Soon the chill is knocked back for those working indoors. For Dana and Eleanor scraping paint outside, it's small comfort. Keith has begun to train Julie in the fine art of taping and how to apply compound to those corners with metal stripping on them. We manage to heat up the house enough to risk continuing some of the compound application.

Murray finishes that pesky and complex front window at last and then he and I are assigned to begin laying subflooring for the kitchen and eating area. Sheets of 3 x 5 foot Portland cement are to be laid out on the floor to plot the most efficient use of the materials.   By the time this is completed, it's time to call in a lunch order for Wayne to pick up - Po Boys from a gas station that are considered especially good. We're warned they're large, so most of us buddy up to split them. Turns out they're 16 inches long! But tasty.

Somewhere along the line, Keith asks me if I'd make a run out to the storage shed and see if I can locate a "box of notches." Huh? I ask him to repeat that since I almost thought he'd said a box of "nachos." No, it's notches. Huh? "You're gonna' have to clarify that terminology for me. As far as I'm concerned a notch is a void or a gap." Keith chuckles and I now realize I've just passed some sort of special IQ test. He tells me that's a common stunt pulled on a newbie at a construction site and that I'd be surprised how often the victim actually runs off to fetch the notches.

I may have passed that test, but here on our last day I'm still flunking elementary screw gun application. Now I'm trying to use it to put screws into the kitchen cement flooring and having as much success as I had with the drywall on Monday. So far this week I've already gone through several bits (if that's the right term) that I've burned up. Now I come to my most distinctive effort yet. After lining up the bit to the Phillips head screw, I squeeze the trigger and begin pushing to drill the screw in. It's resisting my efforts so I push harder and go faster. Before I know it, the spot is smoking and there's the smell of hot metal. When I pull back the instrument of frustration I find that the slits in the screw head are missing - now there's one round spot, it's black and it's smoking. The tip of the screwdriver looks hairy with a black halo of overheated metal shavings. I decide it's time to switch to something I can do right - like sweeping the floor and tearing dry wall tape to size. Sigh.

By the time we're cleaning up the site and preparing to leave, our friendly neighbor Walter shows up with a plate full of cooked raccoon. Wayne is happy to sample it and we all appreciate his generosity, but the ladies are still reluctant. At last some of us dare to taste it. No, it's not like chicken - more like pot roast with a lot of pepper. But at least it's authentic and, of course, it's country coon.

Neighbors and Neighborhoods

2011-01-23T17:12:00.000-08:00

Thomas Hyde pointed out that we're not here just rebuilding houses. We're certainly rebuilding homes for families, but we're also rebuilding neighborhoods and communities - New Orleans itself. Repeatedly, we've heard the Hyde's neighbors expressing their wish to see this family able to return home. Some of the neighbors' houses have been completely finished, but others are still in progress. There's an empty lot next door where a house pancaked in collapse thanks to termite damage before Katrina hit, but the house next to that one still stands empty and, we're told, is slated to be torn down. Something has hit the right side of the house with enough power to stave in the wall and that's just the immediately visible damage. We wonder if the battering ram might be the huge uprooted tree that lies in the empty lot. A few doors down, at the corner, another home stands boarded up, victim of a fire thought to be caused by a gas line rupture in Katrina's wake.

It's hard for anyone who has not shared their travails to fully appreciate what the people of this city have gone through, but many are willing to tell their stories. Indeed, perhaps they must tell their stories - perhaps it's therapeutic. Walter, a neighbor across the street, is a contractor who's going through a slow period right now. Lots of people need work done, but don't have the finances to hire anybody - the recession has been like a kick to a man already down. Still, he's cheerful and grateful that his wife has kept her good job at Tulane. After Katrina, she was transferred to Houston for six months and Walter and his son stayed behind to work on rebuilding the house. Now they are all settled in and a New Orleans Saints banner flies from their second-floor deck. Indeed, we have been impressed all week with how many Saints t-shirts, banners and other team memorabilia have been on display everywhere we go. That Super Bowl win had to be a sorely needed and unprecedented tonic for the whole city.

Walter's cousin Maurice lives a couple miles away and is also a contractor trying to drum up new business. He's putting together a couple of new proposals, but recent experience has taught him to not count on the work coming through. Happily for him and his family, their home was spared from Katrina damage thanks to a sufficiently higher elevation in their neighborhood. When the hurricane was forecast, he and his family left New Orleans for the extended family home in Mississippi and waited it out there with the a number of other relatives. He was disgusted with the behavior of those who had looted empty homes in the immediate aftermath of the storm, but was greatly amused to learn that many of these looters had to abandon their booty when they themselves needed to be evacuated. Some measure of justice.

This country connection in Mississippi is responsible for the pair of trapped raccoons that have been a subject of conversation much of the week. Walter and Maurice pop over to get a tour of the house to see our progress and the subject comes up again. When Dana, Eleanor, Julie and I express "reservations" about accepting their offer to taste the coming stew, the guys are mystified. How could we not be willing to try this delicacy? We mention that in our neck of the woods, raccoons are noted for often being rabid and that they eat all kinds of unsavory delights like garbage. "Oh, no, those are city coons," we're told. "We don't eat city coons. These are good healthy country coons that eat from the corn fields and such." And maybe, it is suggested, northern coons just aren't as good as those from the south in the first place. I'm a little surprised to hear that Virginia is considered northern. This Yankee girl who grew up in Ohio and Michigan and lived in Massachusetts and New Jersey thought she'd moved to the south when we headed to Virginia. Guess it's all relative. We all have a good laugh together, but a few glances among us tells me we girls are still not sold on coon stew.

Soon enough, it's time for our lunch break and we're off to sample the delicacies of a place known as "The Joint." Their pulled pork, barbequed ribs, baked beans, and potato salad are excellent, but it's really the ambiance that's the show here. You'll have to see the photos (when I finally get them posted) to fully appreciate the decor. "Colorful" and "eclectic" don't begin to characterize the place. I overhear one of the owners chatting with a friend about how he's spending his spare time helping to build a float for the Mardi Gras parade. In addition to the Saints decorations all around town, we've been noting that people have been putting up Mardi Gras decorations they way folks in Virginia hang greens for Christmas.

Today has not all been chatting with neighbors and eating local cuisine. We've been working hard, too. Murray has spent a fair amount of time under the raised house (great covered work area) recalibrating the carpenter's saw retrieved from the Project Homecoming storage shed. He needs that tool to cut special notched wood pieces to use in reconstructing the living room windows in the front of the house. New lumber is not available in the same dimensions as that used when this house was built, so he rummages through the debris to find a few pieces that will do for his needs. No sour oak odor when this wood is cut - it's cypress and is actually an appealing sweet aroma. Drywall taping and mudding continues in the two bedrooms. Eleanor, Dana and Julie are highly experienced in that, but Walter and Maurice had noted that there was an easier way to hit multiple screw holes at once and my colleagues are happy to adopt a more efficient method. Wayne is our runner when he's not on the scaffold out front scraping windows and loose stucco. Keith sets up a scaffold so he can reach the ceilings and he encourages Marta to get up on the ladder to reach high spots so "the old ladies don't have to be up so high on the ladders." That remark is made with a wink to our quartet of "old ladies" and an impish grin we've come to know.

Dana Henderson is a talented artist who created that wonderful, colorful sign our mission team posted at the Olive Tree on an earlier trip. Last year, she asked Murray to cut out of plywood the pair of hands that were added to it with a message about both New Orleans and Haiti. This year, there will be another addition to the sign - a perfect symbol and message that resonate with our experiences here. The posts - dubbed "totems"- are a fixture at the Olive Tree as each group leaves behind its unique message of hope. Groups have come from as far away as Kenya and from across the United States to lend a hand to the people of New Orleans. Dana's got a great sense of humor in addition to her creativity and she and I have shared the frustration of trying to master that screw gun that I'm told is the real name for the tool we were ready to pitch out the window after more than 30 tries to get one screw in properly. We have fun together even in our frustration.

Julie Sparks was a member of our church for 12 years before the family moved to northern Virginia. Now they're back in Charlottesville and looking forward to seeing old friends and re-connecting with the community. This trip certainly seems like a good way to bond with a group from the church! Julie also has had a lot of experience working with Habitat for Humanity so she's adept at many of our tasks - installing insulation and drywalling and many others. In fact, she's noting that somehow she seems to always wind up as a "mudder." But this time she gets to try her hand at a few other things, too. She's strong and tall enough to reach farther than some of us, is obviously more fit than her desk jockey colleague writing this blog and is an especially good asset to the team. Again, her warmth and humor are key ingredients to our special stew of work and fun.

Eleanor Maloney is the other "girl" on our First Pres team at Derbigny Street. She's been on a number of these missions, too, and is a stalwart contributor to the effort. She'll take on any task with gusto, including climbing on a scaffold on the outside of the house that has me worried about how she'll be able to get down without getting hurt. Really couldn't see how she'd gotten up there in the first place - brave lady! At one point, I note she's sporting multiple bandaids on her fingers - covering the torn fingernail that bled profusely and nicks and cuts from the utility knife. Her hearty laugh and great humor make her fun to work with and she's a great team member.

If I seem to overstate the value of "humor" it's because that is such an essential ingredient for an effort like this. We're all working in a way most of us are unaccustomed to under conditions that are less than ideal. Many of us are nursing a variety of aches and pains and doing things that are physically challenging beyond what we normally would be (and maybe should be, in some cases) doing. Our dorms would be a good place to have an ibuprofen and bandaid concession. We're not used to the lack of privacy that comes with communal living and many of us are not in the least ready to eat dinner as early as 6:30. In my case, I may or may not have left the office yet and am certainly not even thinking seriously about what to cook at that hour. This mission is no place for a grump! Despite those acknowledged challenges, we're all excited to be here and are experiencing the sort of soul renewal that comes with serving others.

Thursday nights are "Neighbor Nights" at the Olive Tree when current and past clients are invited to join the team for a spaghetti supper. Sunday afternoon when we took our little ride around to see where we'd be working, we also stopped by homes that the team worked on last year to see the outcome and perhaps to see the owners. Unfortunately, nobody was home, but we're delighted to be able to see a couple of those folks tonight at dinner. We were invited to stop by Alvin Bell's home when we quit for the day. Mrs. Bell had always wanted a pink and black kitchen and now, at last, we admire her pale pink walls, the black painted cabinets her husband had installed after the First Pres team had left, and pink appliances on the counters. I had no idea you could get mixers, coffee makers and crock pots in pink! At supper, we see the Bell grandchildren and their grandpa along with Jerry Parker, another homeowner whose home was rebuilt last year. We also see one of this year's homeowners whose home is in progress. The hope is that those still under construction will take heart from the people now enjoying the fruits of previous mission team members. In addition to building homes and communities, we appear to be helping to rebuild spirits and hope.

Catching Up - Heads Up

2011-01-21T20:59:00.000-08:00

By now you've figured out that these postings are occurring belatedly - we get back from the work site and there are chores here at the Olive Tree (cleaning the showers, taking out trash, preparation for dinner, clean-up after dinner, washing down tables, sweeping and mopping, etc.). I've been trying not to be a shirker, but then that means blogging late and keeping a light on as roommates are trying to sleep. Since I'm still at least two days behind, this morning I'll risk shirking. Also, I've taken a lot of photos (as has Tom Barton), but I've encountered some technical challenges to creating a slide show for this blog. As soon as I can figure out how best to accomplish that feat, there will be a number of photos to share.

It's Friday morning and I'm still looking at Wednesday notes....

Murray and Julie have been teaming up to work in the living room. There have been large sheets of drywall stacked against the front wall under the windows and a side wall still to be insulated and then sheetrocked. As the drywall is being used, the smaller stack moves to another wall and they tackle the complicated front wall. There is an arch above the windows and more complex molding to be tackled. Since I've been working in a back bedroom I haven't been able to follow the progress there very closely, but it's evident that things are coming together.

By day's end, we have completed all the insulation and all the drywall is installed in our house. There are a few larger pieces of scrap drywall that we don't throw into the dumpster, but offer to neighbors who are working on their houses. It would be a shame to see it go to waste and we're happy to help others in the neighborhood. Wayne and Keith have been chatting with neighbor Walter and his cousin Maurice who have promised a taste of raccoon meat when they cook up the two critters one of their relatives has trapped. We knew there were conversations during work breaks, but still we are unprepared for the spectacle of Wayne heading back to our worksite triumphantly holding up a ziplock bag containing the head of a raccoon . Yuck! At first glance I thought it was the head of a rat. Keith finds this greatly amusing and is altogether too intrigued with the relic.

That evening the head in the bag seems to be putting on a lot of mileage. First, I see Keith stashing it under the lid of one of the barbeque grills outside the kitchen. He wears a mischievous smile. I'm inclined to post a guard in the women's dorm just in case he gets any bright ideas about where it would be perversely fun to deposit this thing next. I discover later that he put the head into a metal bowl with a lid and left it near the sink in the kitchen where one of the Buffalo group teenagers picked up the lid as he was doing dishes and leapt backwards several feet. It's with great relief that I finally learn the head has been deposited in the dumpster. No more need for "heads up."

I Have Hope

2011-01-20T20:24:00.000-08:00

We're certainly a colorful team. Wayne Turner resurrected from his closet a few treasures he's willing to risk ruining in his work projects. And so it is that he's sporting brilliant orange cargo pants (originally purchased to wear to UVA football games) and a fire engine red shirt. To top it off, he's wearing an orange "camouflage" pattern hat and in the cool morning he adds a red and white plaid shirt. A walking nightlight.

That said, she of the half-mast pants has made her own fashion spectacle. In anticipation of painting and/or working in a dusty environment, I brought my powder blue bunny suit with me. A few weeks ago I had a photo shoot at the hospital for a simulation drill that included time in the operating room. I was handed a one-piece disposable zip front coverall to wear for the occasion. When the event was over, everyone was throwing their bunny suits in the trash. Right after I dumped mine it dawned on me how useful it might be for this trip so I fished it back out and brought it along. I've been wearing it over the only decent pair of jeans I brought along and it's done a splendid job of keeping me much cleaner. But it has definitely generated a lot of ribbing - especially after I ripped the seam down the inside of the left leg. Duct tape is not your usual accessory.

All the color is not upon our aching bodies. Keith has brought along a bright pink plastic flamingo - apparently a trademark item he often puts in the yard of his clients just as a fun gesture when he's doing a construction project. We stick his wire legs into a gap between the front door and the porch and he stands as a sentinel to good humor and fun, silently greeting us on every run up and down the front steps.

So now it's Tuesday. Tonight our team is responsible for both preparing dinner (about 30 people including the western New York team and a couple of staffers) and leading the evening reflections. We talk in the morning about basing our reflections on a portion of The Prophet that speaks of work. One of us will read the passages and then each of the team will comment on their work here in New Orleans and how that resonates with observations like "And all work is empty save when there is love" and "What is it to work with love? It is to weave the cloth with threads drawn from your heart...." and "Work is love made visible."

While we have yet to meet our homeowners, we've already met a few of the neighbors on Derbigny Street. There's the house next door where live a minister, his wife and several kids, including a couple we hear practicing the piano in the afternoon. The large house across the street that flies a New Orleans Saints banner is home to a burly fellow named Walter and we've been seeing a lot of his cousin Maurice there as well. In fact they tell Wayne and Keith that they plan to be cooking up some raccoon meat and that they'll share a sample. Some of us are unlikely to accept the invitation to sample that particular delicacy.

We have all plunged into our day's activities of installing insulation, hanging drywall and repairing the front windows. Doors and windows are open and I suddenly think I hear Wayne calling my name from outside. We have a visitor. Thomas Hyde has not been able to visit his own home since before Christmas. His health problems and inability to drive now have made it difficult for him to get around, but here he is today, dropped off by his son.

We already know something of the family story from information provided by Project Homecoming. When Katrina hit, Thomas and his wife Charlotte were visiting their daughter in Atlanta. Their son, now in his mid-20s was still in New Orleans and evacuated to Houston. Two days later the family reunited in Atlanta and stayed for the next three and a half years until Mr. Hyde's renal condition required dialysis and he decided to return to New Orleans for care. Mr. Hyde, who is diabetic and hypertensive, became blind for two years from a detached retina. After surgery, he now has partial sight in one eye - something he describes as a miracle and a great blessing. Only a few months ago, he received a kidney transplant and has dealt with rejection complications since. In addition to flood waters, Mr. Hyde has been flooded with health problems as well. After paying off their mortgage, they elevated their home several feet on pillars to prevent future flooding, but now are in need of assistance to rebuild since their funds are exhausted.

When we first begin to talk, he tells me how grateful he and his family are for our assistance. We hug as I assure him that we are delighted for the opportunity to help. "It's not often that any of us do something we know can make a profound difference for somebody else," I assure him. The rest of our crew is assembled out on the front steps where we encourage Thomas Hyde to sit.

The next hour is an extraordinary testimony of faith and hope as we learn more about the man. He played center and other line positions on the football team at Southern University and was a manager for Walgreen's before his illness and having to retire. But he seems to bloom when he describes how often young men will stop him on the street to thank him for having faith in them when they didn't have it themselves. He has worked for years with young people trying to set them on a positive path and provide loving mentoring. He and his wife are engaged in various roles in their church, including the men's chorus he formed that sings every fifth Sunday. He tells us he's unaccustomed to seeking or receiving help from others and finds it difficult. When a tear begins to trace a route down his cheek, I suddenly become teary-eyed with him. But, he is prepared to accept that God's will is being served in all his struggles and he sees our help as God-sent. His quiet dignity and thoughtful manner are engaging and he is confident in his faith. In fact, he feels he has been tested by his troubles and has a stronger trust in God than ever before.

At one point he says he'd like to sing for us and as we all stand gathered close to him he begins singing a song, I Have Hope. There are no dry eyes as we listen to his heart-felt testimony. The words we discussed that morning from The Prophet could never be more appropriate.

Shortly before he gets a tour of his home to see the progress, Keith has taken a marker and written "I have hope" on our flamingo's back. The tearful ("These are tears of joy") response moves us all.

Wayne offers to drive him home after he has walked through his house to see the progress and Mr. Hyde tells us he plans to return on Friday morning in time for our break so he can bring some special donuts as a gesture of gratitude for our efforts to rebuild his home. We certainly look forward to more time with him. When Wayne returns some time later, he arrives carrying a poinsettia plant - a bright gift from Mr. Hyde to cheer us along in our work. Before we leave New Orleans, we all plan to sign the flamingo beneath that testimony of hope and leave it for the Hydes as an endorsement of their hope and a further expression of "love made visible."

The Work Week Begins

2011-01-19T22:06:00.000-08:00

Usually when people collect seashells they go to the beach, but on Monday Dana and Eleanor take a little walkabout during a work break and return to show us their treasures - seashells and a few finials broken from an ornate iron fence - discovered among the debris around the house we're working on on Derbigny Street (pronounced here as "der-bi-nee"). They also come back with another treasure - the story of their introduction to Mrs. Williams.

They had encountered Mrs. Williams at the back of the lot where it abuts the parking lot of a real estate business on the street behind us. She had been taking a little stroll and was improbably booting a football around the parking lot when they met her. After brief introductions that included her thanks for our work in New Orleans, she insisted on bringing them into the real estate office to meet her daughter Eunice and great-granddaughter Olivia (7) on a school break for the Martin Luther King holiday. It seems that Eunice had bought her real estate business only weeks before Katrina hit and her building was filled with nearly eight feet of water. Devastating as it was, she lost none of her business records. She had filed them in large plastic bins with tight lids that rose with the water to the office ceiling. As the flood waters receded, the bins settled back to the floor.

They are just the first of the neighbors we've met. The homeowners of the house we're rehabilitating are living in an apartment in the city with their son, but it's clear that all the neighbors are eager to welcome them home. The Hydes are special people who have always been volunteers supporting others in the community and now find themselves in need of assistance.

On Monday, our group gets sorted out in subgroups and our site manager Marta assigns tasks. She is a recent college graduate who is working with AmeriCorps and assigned to manage teams like ours through Project Homecoming (which has functioned as part of the Presbyterian Disaster Assistance branch of the denomination.)

We actually have two pros on this site team: Keith Berger is a contractor who specializes in home renovations and Murray Hulse is a cabinetmaker. Keith jokes that his work on any project isn't really official until he's shed blood somehow - often by bumping his bald head on something. Murray has been coming on these mission trips here and to Southwest Virginia for the past several years applying his expertise wherever possible.

In addition, Julie Sparks is an experienced volunteer with Habitat for Humanity. This work trip to New Orleans is a repeat performance for her cousin, Dana Henderson, so she too has good experience. Eleanor Maloney is another experienced First Pres mission tripper who has acquired a variety of skills. This is the first Katrina mission to New Orleans for Wayne Turner, but he was part of the crew for the first efforts in Mississippi. Notice how often that word "experience" has just been used? And then there is Dory - the rookie of the group on my first construction mission trip and with some limits on what I can tackle, thanks to chronic neck problems and previous fusion surgery.

Marta gets a few of us started with instructions on how to use the special motorized screw drivers (I forget the real name for the gizmos) for putting screws into drywall. It turns out there is a technique to using these - surprise. It also turns out that I have yet to master that technique. You need to push hard enough to engage the gears and drive the screw deep enough to dimple the drywall in preparation for the taping process. Dana and I both struggle. Marta gives us a scrap piece of drywall to screw up (as in screw to the wall) and practice on. Our objective is to produce just one good screw application. By the time we each have managed to accomplish that we have made Swiss cheese out of the scrap - I count more than 30 holes before either of us produce one good result. Most frustrating, but what a triumphant feeling when we finally do it! Of course, that's only one screw. We still need to replicate that triumph in whole rooms full of drywall. Could be a long week and I do hope they have lots of compound to cover all the extra holes we're likely to produce.

When I packed for the trip, I anticipated painting and other messy activities and brought along old clothes that I could wear for the work and then just throw away. My primary work pants were intended to be an old pair of elastic waist denim pants. As I folded them to pack, the elastic gave off an ominous crackling sound and lost its stretch. No problem, I figured. I'll just use a safety pin and I'm only going to throw them away anyway. That would be the safety pin I forgot to pack. All day Monday is spent in gratitude for an extra long shirt and in the annoyance of constantly rescuing my pants from imminent attraction to my ankles.

Meanwhile, others are installing insulation, scraping peeling paint from the stuccoed exterior and hanging drywall. It must be noted that the front of the house bears the New Orleans "seal" as I have come to think of it. As rescue workers made the rounds after Katrina, they painted information on the fronts of houses to show that they had already been inspected. Think of a circle divided by an X. In the spaces formed by the X the rescuers painted the date of their inspection, an abbreviation for their organization, whether they found dead bodies and how many. Happily, a California National Guard detail found no dead bodies in this house when they got to it in September. The Hydes were away at the time the storm hit.

By the time the day ends, Dana and I feel some sense of accomplishment but hope to get more efficient quickly. Others seem to be progressing faster but we're all settling into the job at hand. What we don't realize yet is that Tuesday will bring a delightful surprise that touches our hearts profoundly.

Organizing the Team and Settling In

2011-01-17T15:35:00.000-08:00

A key member of our team is not actually on site with us - for the first time since Katrina battered the Gulf Coast, Stu Fears is home in Charlottesville instead of with the church mission team. Long the heart and soul of our mission trips to the Gulf and to Southwest Virginia, he is still undergoing therapy after his most recent back surgery. After his doctor's and his wife's vigorous protests about his inclination to head to New Orleans, he was wise enough to recognize when he was outflanked and made the strategic decision to withdraw and wait for another day. At our first team meeting in New Orleans, he was present by cell phone and roundly cheered.

And Stu, not to worry. Don Dougald is doing a fine job of carrying on as our leader! We've been organized into three work teams for each of the three homes we're working on and for chore assignments at the Olive Tree. Don is a retired professor from UVA who is an expert in architectural engineering and blessed with a great sense of humor! The team meeting included sharing of fun stories from trips past and anticipation for the coming week.

Sunday was a planning and organizing day plus a chance to do a little sightseeing. Part of the morning and early afternoon was passed in repairs at the Olive Tree trying to get the toilets and sinks to flow properly and since 3 of the 4 lightbulbs in the shower trailer were burned out.... We also had a briefing from a couple of the new young managers for the Olive Tree facility which is about to change management at the end of the week.

After lunch, we drove around to visit our work sites and then some of us took the opportunity to see a little of downtown New Orleans, including the French Quarter. Some of us watched through the back window of Cafe du Monde as the experts turned out fresh beignets by the bazillion for the eager throngs of people waiting in the winding line. Some of the sidewalk entertainment was quite engaging, including the puppeteer whose marionette crooned to a recording and then took to the sidewalk to dance with a passing lady visitor. A quartet of performers known as the Dragon Masters combine amazing acrobatic stunts with music and a really hilarious comedy patter with passersby and those who stayed to watch their performance.

We've now been joined by the group we thought would be college students from Buffalo, NY. Not quite sure where we got that idea, but 10 folks have escaped the cold and snow to join in the work here. There are a few young folks, but most are similar to our age. No doubt we'll be comparing our aches and pains before the week is out. They are getting to know one another, too, since they're all from western New York but not from the same church.

Next time we'll cover some of the teams and today's work.

We're here!

2011-01-16T06:20:00.000-08:00

It's a little after 7 am local time and my first order of the day is to post this blog - guilt-driven for not doing it last night. But given the general fatigue level (including mine), we should all be grateful for the delay.

Rich Lutz and Jeff McDaniel loaded the church van with all our gear and left Thursday night to drive to New Orleans. After dropping off the load here at the Olive Tree facility, Rich collected half of us at the airport and, with the other half of the team in a rented van, we convoyed "home." Keeping track of a dozen or so people in an airport - even adults - is a comedy routine as some head off to rest rooms and others make a desperation run for coffee, etc. I have dubbed Pat McPhillips "The Count" since it so often seems to be he who is counting noses at key intervals like boarding the vans. I guess we're each assuming our roles on the team.

Some of us awoke at about 2 am to get on the road collecting teammates and getting to the airport in Richmond for our two-leg flight to New Orleans via Atlanta. Pat reported that he just never bothered to go to bed. I had considered that same strategy, but Murray and I managed 3-4 hours sleep before we headed out into the cold night that made me all the more sorry for abandoning the electric blanket. All agree we're really feeling our sleep deprivation - and the week hasn't really even started yet.

The Olive Tree facility had been occupied by a large contingent of college students from New Jersey who were still packing up and doing some cleaning when we arrived. As we were getting our first briefing from Doug McDonald, one of the girls scooted back through the meeting area on her way to get some water to take in the car - for their new puppy. It seems they were adopted by a stray which they've already had a vet examine and pronounce healthy. A few life style changes in store there.

After a flurry of further cleaning, making up bunks and our briefing, we headed out to get some lunch at a local institution bustling with activity. In one area of the Castnet Seafood establishment long lines of people were buying quantities of fresh seafood and catfish while on the other side people like us were ordering up specialties like Po-Boys. Among the side orders available were gumbo or turkey necks. We must be in New Orleans.

In the afternoon, we convoyed in our two vans to visit the three work sites designated for our group to locate them, look them over and figure out how best to allocate the talent among our team members. You'll hear much more on all this in the coming days..

Dinner was more seafood at Acme, another super-busy spot of the sort that travel guides like to describe as "locally popular" and where we all dug in with gusto. The Atlanta Falcons were getting their heads handed to them on the multiple TVs strewn throughout the place. When we got back to Olive Tree, a stout cadre of fans watched the second game on the TV in the common room.

Passionate as I am for football, it was noted that my posture was assuming the general format of the sinking sun we had observed some hours earlier, and I sensibly hauled off to bed. Train whistles may have continued through the night; there may or may not have been nocturnal vocalizing in the room shared with Dana, Annie Lee, Eleanor, Nancy, Pam and Julie; and the bunks may not have been as cushy as the bed at home - I wouldn't know.

Gearing Up

2011-01-12T19:18:00.000-08:00

At last I'm joining the team going from the First Presbyterian Church in Charlottesville, VA to New Orleans to help with rebuilding in the aftermath of Katrina! Husband Murray has been on several of these trips to the Gulf since Katrina, but I've never before been able to take the time from my job to join the fun/work.

This is also the first time I've created my own blog. Last July when I blogged from the RAM (Remote Area Medical) Clinic in Wise, VA, somebody more technologically capable handled the actual posting of my photos, audio interviews, video clips and commentary. Since I was there as part of the team from the University of Virginia Health System, the UVA Office of Public Affairs performed the behind-the-scenes magic. There's a first time for everything, however, so here I go blogging solo and hoping to be able to load photos as we go along.

The team leaves at o-dark-thirty (as my Navy son would say) on Saturday morning to fly out of Richmond. It'll be a great way to celebrate my birthday. In 2001, I was on a Rotary surgical mission trip in Argentina on my birthday and learned that doing something this positive and all consuming is a great way to take the sting out of the occasion - counting blessings instead of candles!

We're packing up with bedrolls, tools and recipes for large groups as well as clothing. A van will leave tomorrow night to join us with the stuff we couldn't put into carry-on bags for the flight down. An organizational meeting has already given us a chance to list our capabilities so the on-site managers can determine what projects to assign to us. We'll be joined at the facility by a group of college students from Buffalo who will seriously bring down the overall average age of the volunteer cadre.

For many in our group this will be a repeat experience and some bring appropriate professional experience to go with the general enthusiasm. Murray became a professional cabinetmaker after a career as an employee benefits consultant. Don Dougald, who is leading our band this time, is a retired UVA professor with architectural engineering expertise. As we get into our week, we'll introduce the rest of the team and get to know the projects and the people for whom we're contributing our work and our caring.

Ready to record the week!