Thursday, November 8, 2007
You have to laugh cause if you don't laugh, you'll just keep crying...
This is the mantra Steve shared with me today. Steve is a local here at St. Bernard and I had met him on Sunday but was still too timid and didn't have the cajones to chat with anyone. Tonight, I sat down for dinner with him and Kinga (this super awesome girl I met here who is my dancing fool partner) and he told me about his stories during the hurricane and post-Katrina.
I'm not sure how old Steve is because I'm sure the stress of the storm has weathered away at his frail frame and he says the stress of the storm tookaway his teeth and is slowly working its way towards his hairline. His wife JoAnn died a year after the storm from complications with stress. Her blood pressure skyrocketed and couldn't get lower than 180. Steve tried to lessen the tension throughout Katrina and its aftermath with jokes and a light heart but her heart couldn't take it and she died about a year ago, I could see in his eyes the pain is still very fresh and real as he began to choke up. He said 1800 people died during Katrina and many more followed due to illnesses and stress in the last two years post Katrina's wake.
He had made a collection of videos over the years, mostly bits and pieces of other people's home videos, and showed us a few tonight. It was really difficult to fathom. As empathetic as I am, I realistically can only scratch at the surface of how it must have felt to have a hurricane suddenly drench your home in 3 minutes--THREE MINUTES it took for the storm to reach the ground level of their living room (which is raised at least 4 feet) to the ceiling. Imagine the power of those waters to be able to consume a house in 3 minutes...
No one can really imagine what that's like, or what it must be like to sit on a rooftop for hours or even days in the rain, wind, and rising waters with no end in sight. Or what it's like to watch 55 foot waves crashing over the levees towards you. Or see a dog abandoned on a rooftop but you're stuck on your own rooftop and can't help. Or watch a car float over your roof. Or wonder why the US government has abandoned you but somehow the Canadian Mounties and the German whoever-they-are show up in the first few days. Or wonder what is in that nasty brown water--all the debris, sewage, automotive oils and gasoline, household chemicals--that's engulfing your neighborhood and soaking into every inch of your space and making people sick for months after. Or the rioting and looting and illness that ensued afterwards.
One clip showed St. Bernard in the November following Katrina--and sadly it didn't look that much different from St. Bernard now except the piles of rubble are more sparse but the damage here and there is still obvious. The lower Ninth Ward is especially saddening as LeighAnne (also awesome girl) and I took a morning tour of it today (sorry for waking you up at 6am, LaLa), and many homes were abandoned and condemned with phrases like "Do not Enter!" spray painted on the front doors.
At one point I imagined what it would be like if in these videos I saw my mom or some of my friends and it broke my heart. Because the people here, they're someone's mom or best friend or brother or sister... and everyone has kind of given up on them.
The strength some of the locals here have is amazing--or maybe it's their only choice. I imagine some people had the money and the connections to leave. But some people had no choice but to have faith, be hopeful, stay and rebuild. I don't think I could be that strong.
People think us volunteers are strong for coming down here and helping. I don't really agree. Steve looked into the crowd tonight as we watched his videos and said the volunteers were the heroes of Katrina but I disagree. We're just playing a supporting role to the people who chose to stay behind. The locals who didn't quit and didn't abandon this place that now has parts that look like a ravaged ghost town... they're the heroes. They're the ones who have inspired us volunteers to help. Take Steve who has chosen to stay in St. Bernard and has been busting his balls to setup a community center (named after his wife--JoAnn Vision of Hope--Looking on yesterday with happiness, and on tomorrow with hope), a library, a babysitting center... That man has a heart of steel I tell ya... Us? We're the ones who get to go home at the end of a hard week, pat ourselves on the back for trying, and return to our dry homes, happy friends and family, and pray someone else takes a turn and keeps the efforts going.
I'm really glad OneBrick chose to put this together and so far I've really enjoyed my time here and the people I've met--even the cold showers we all get to bond over. I just wish I could do more. And I'll pray to my atheist God that nothing like Katrina will ever befall on my friends, family or myself.
As much help as it is to pick up a paintbrush and paint an exterior wall and get this home closer to done, I'm still unsatisfied. Sooo, I think I'll see as to what I can do to write some grant proposals to my oh so wonderful employer company and ask them to contribute. We'll see how much influence this gremlin has.
I'm not sure how old Steve is because I'm sure the stress of the storm has weathered away at his frail frame and he says the stress of the storm tookaway his teeth and is slowly working its way towards his hairline. His wife JoAnn died a year after the storm from complications with stress. Her blood pressure skyrocketed and couldn't get lower than 180. Steve tried to lessen the tension throughout Katrina and its aftermath with jokes and a light heart but her heart couldn't take it and she died about a year ago, I could see in his eyes the pain is still very fresh and real as he began to choke up. He said 1800 people died during Katrina and many more followed due to illnesses and stress in the last two years post Katrina's wake.
He had made a collection of videos over the years, mostly bits and pieces of other people's home videos, and showed us a few tonight. It was really difficult to fathom. As empathetic as I am, I realistically can only scratch at the surface of how it must have felt to have a hurricane suddenly drench your home in 3 minutes--THREE MINUTES it took for the storm to reach the ground level of their living room (which is raised at least 4 feet) to the ceiling. Imagine the power of those waters to be able to consume a house in 3 minutes...
No one can really imagine what that's like, or what it must be like to sit on a rooftop for hours or even days in the rain, wind, and rising waters with no end in sight. Or what it's like to watch 55 foot waves crashing over the levees towards you. Or see a dog abandoned on a rooftop but you're stuck on your own rooftop and can't help. Or watch a car float over your roof. Or wonder why the US government has abandoned you but somehow the Canadian Mounties and the German whoever-they-are show up in the first few days. Or wonder what is in that nasty brown water--all the debris, sewage, automotive oils and gasoline, household chemicals--that's engulfing your neighborhood and soaking into every inch of your space and making people sick for months after. Or the rioting and looting and illness that ensued afterwards.
One clip showed St. Bernard in the November following Katrina--and sadly it didn't look that much different from St. Bernard now except the piles of rubble are more sparse but the damage here and there is still obvious. The lower Ninth Ward is especially saddening as LeighAnne (also awesome girl) and I took a morning tour of it today (sorry for waking you up at 6am, LaLa), and many homes were abandoned and condemned with phrases like "Do not Enter!" spray painted on the front doors.
At one point I imagined what it would be like if in these videos I saw my mom or some of my friends and it broke my heart. Because the people here, they're someone's mom or best friend or brother or sister... and everyone has kind of given up on them.
The strength some of the locals here have is amazing--or maybe it's their only choice. I imagine some people had the money and the connections to leave. But some people had no choice but to have faith, be hopeful, stay and rebuild. I don't think I could be that strong.
People think us volunteers are strong for coming down here and helping. I don't really agree. Steve looked into the crowd tonight as we watched his videos and said the volunteers were the heroes of Katrina but I disagree. We're just playing a supporting role to the people who chose to stay behind. The locals who didn't quit and didn't abandon this place that now has parts that look like a ravaged ghost town... they're the heroes. They're the ones who have inspired us volunteers to help. Take Steve who has chosen to stay in St. Bernard and has been busting his balls to setup a community center (named after his wife--JoAnn Vision of Hope--Looking on yesterday with happiness, and on tomorrow with hope), a library, a babysitting center... That man has a heart of steel I tell ya... Us? We're the ones who get to go home at the end of a hard week, pat ourselves on the back for trying, and return to our dry homes, happy friends and family, and pray someone else takes a turn and keeps the efforts going.
I'm really glad OneBrick chose to put this together and so far I've really enjoyed my time here and the people I've met--even the cold showers we all get to bond over. I just wish I could do more. And I'll pray to my atheist God that nothing like Katrina will ever befall on my friends, family or myself.
As much help as it is to pick up a paintbrush and paint an exterior wall and get this home closer to done, I'm still unsatisfied. Sooo, I think I'll see as to what I can do to write some grant proposals to my oh so wonderful employer company and ask them to contribute. We'll see how much influence this gremlin has.
Subscribe to Posts [Atom]