Signing off from Camp Gulfport

As we prepare to leave camp this weekend, I wanted to leave you with a summary of what we've accomplished in our two weeks here as well as how we've used your donations. It's been a hectic blur, but I think we've come up with a fairly comprehensive list. Team members, if I've missed anything, please add your comments.

First worksite

• Framed bathroom for a tub, installed tub and surround
• Plumbed the bathroom and laundry room
• Move light socket boxes and did other minor electrical work
• Sheetrocked and mudded hallway, 2 bedrooms, bathroom
• Textured, primed, and painted (two coats) walls and ceilings of bedrooms, bathroom, and closet
• Minor framing work
• Outside cleanup work
• Scraped and cleaned windows

Second worksite

• Plumbed the house
• Built new scaffolding
• Scraped and wire brushed all exterior trim, painted with two coats of primer and two coats of paint
• Painted all exterior siding
• Removed and replanted saw tooth palmetto
• Tore down scaffolding and salvaged lumber
• Built platform at bottom of stairs

Third worksite

• Inset medicine cabinet
• Installed vanity lights
• Installed new vanity top in bathroom
• Venetian blind in bathroom
• Bathroom fixtures: towel racks and toilet paper holder
• Recaulk shower and repair/repaint walls
• Install linen closet shelves
• Install bedroom closet and laundry room shelving and rods
• Repair kitchen flooring
• Porch: fixed floor, painted, repaired screens
• Installed outside lighting
• Installed air conditioning vent/grill

Jobs on other worksites

• Ceiling paint on four rooms
• Set several toilets

Camp work

• Repaired doors
• Inventoried medical supplies
• Reorganized tool shed
• Braced mailbox
• Deep cleaned ovens, stoves, and refrigerators at camp
• Daily camp chores, including cooking and cleaning

Purchases for worksites and camp

• Tub and enclosure
• Bathroom plumbing fixtures
• Assorted plumbing supplies
• Exterior and interior paint, primer, painting supplies
• Mud compound
• Assorted small tools
• Closet rods, shelving, towel racks, and toilet paper holder
• Fasteners
• Caulking
• Lumber
• Light fixtures
• Drill bits
• Venetian blinds
• Vanity top
• Screening materials

Team expenses

• Car rental and gas
• Room and board

That's it for now. We'll keep this blog alive for now, and we'll plan to come back in a few weeks to record our reflections, memories, and lessons learned. Thank you all so much for your support, encouragement, donations, and prayers. It's been a wonderful experience and you all have been a big part of it. We are so grateful.

Signing off from Camp Gulfport.

From the team

Tonight at our team meeting, I asked the other team members to share some of their thoughts about the trip: what they'd been struck by, what they'll remember, what the best part of the trip has been. Here's what some of them said.

Lee said that what immediately came to her mind on this trip was the power and strength of the women in Mississippi. At the home where she's spent most of her time, the homeowner Monnaray is a skilled and hardworking woman who is taking charge of the rebuilding process for her family. When Lee had asked her how she came to know so much about construction, she replied that she'd been doing that work since she was nine years old. Living in this area, there has been a longstanding pattern of storms, destruction, and then reconstruction.

The family connections run deep and this includes the construction process. Monnaray's mother is also putting in significant amount of time to help her daughter's family rebuild. From Monnaray to the clerks at Lowe's to Miss Betty, who is 78 and has been working at Pizza Hut for more than 30 years, the women in this area are real survivors.

Lee went on to say that she's impressed by the skills and competence of the women on our team. Most of us have less than professional construction skills but we paid attention, followed instructions, work hard, and accomplished much this trip.

Mary thought that, because this group focused on fewer homes this visit than the previous BUMC group in Waveland had, they had also heard fewer stories. But still, the stories we've heard have been full of hope and faith, and everyone agreed that the survivors have an ongoing need to tell them. Martha described a trip to a mini-mart that she and Shelly made to buy some postcards. They spent more than 15 minutes in the store, which didn't have any postcards, listening to the clerk tell her Katrina story.

It's clear to any of us who have talked to someone who endured this storm that people want to be sure their trials are not forgotten. They want to tell the world and they want the world to remember. People like Michelle, who spoke to us last night, are the voices for all those who cannot tell their own stories yet. For all the devastation and destruction, the stories are filled with hope and humor and a positive outlook.

Margaret's comments that she will always remember Miss Betty brought nods of assent to all who had the privilege of working on her home. Everything was "just perfect," "so wonderful," and "like a dream." The gratitude of this woman for such simple things was heartwarming and astounding. To her, her modest home was a fairy tale and we were some of the very many folks who helped create it for her.

Many people also agreed with Dick's comments. He said the highlight of the trip was getting to know other team members. Some were strangers to most of us when the trip began and now we're all old friends. It changes a person, Dick said, when you work this closely with one another. Donna added that we're all like family now, especially since we've seen each stumbling around in pajamas and robe looking for coffee in the morning, with wet hair and no makeup, and wearing the same paint-splattered clothing for several days in a row.

We talked some about ways we can continue to raise funds as well as consciousness about the plight of the folks here. There has been much progress, but much work remains. It's not hard to imagine that reconstruction will require many more years, yet federal funds have run out. It's the church people who will make the real difference in what happens next.

Glenn closed the meeting by expressing his gratitude for the team members' willingness to step up and be leaders when the need arose and, just as importantly, their ability to follow so that the entire team can accomplish its goals.

We have one more work day tomorrow and then we all head home sometime over the weekend. For all of us, I expect that the full impact of this trip will be something that we'll continue to sort out over the coming weeks and months.

Hope personified

Sorry for not posting last night. I was a walking zombie by 10:00 p.m. and decided to save it for the morning since I wanted to be able to tell you about the most amazing speaker we heard last night. It's too cold here this morning to do exterior painting so I'll have time to tell you about her in the hour or two we'll wait for it to warm up. (I'm ready to get back to our Montana dry cold--I swear I've been colder here than I was last month at home. Of course I dress better for it there and I didn't pack for freezing temps down here.)

Michelle Cooper and her husband BJ survived Hurricane Katrina in their log home in Waveland. Because they had never been seriously impacted by a hurricane before Katrina, they boarded up their home and decided to wait it out. Michelle shared her story with our group last night, and she had us horrified by her vivid descriptions, laughing with her at the absurd aspects of the tragedy, and weeping at the depth of her faith and gratitude. I'm so sorry she hadn't been able to make it last week so that the folks who have already gone home could have heard her.

There's no way I can adequately relay all she said, but let me provide a few mental pictures: After the water started rising in their home, Michelle and BJ survived in the peak of their attic, heads pressed up against the ceiling, water up to their necks. Two of their three dogs swam away, while they held the third. Because the attic contained relatively quiet waters compared to the raging waters outside, water moccasins and fire ants sought refuge there. Their bodies were battered by objects pounding against them during the several hours they were up there, and hypothermia set in. They prayed continuously and put their trust in God in a way that seems absolutely inspired. She says they also laughed and made jokes to keep their spirits up. Her description of the clothing that remained after most of it had been ripped off in the storm was comic genius.

The water receded later that day to about 4 feet so they were able to make it across the street to a neighbor's house, a two-story house whose attic remained dry. While there, part of a roof collapsed on BJ's leg, breaking it in four places. Of course, they couldn't get to a hospital that night. In fact, it took several days of waiting at the hospital and then getting transported to a distant hospital to get more treatment. During this time, they didn't know the fate of their families, who had been on higher ground; nor did their families know about them.

Michelle described the aftermath of the storm. It was sunny but there was water and mud everywhere. Animals of all types wandered this rural community. (The Coopers' other two dogs survived the storm and were found in trees.) She described the people as "walking zombies," just wandering around dazed and stunned. It was eerily silent and only a small handful of cars were operational after the storm. Two young men drove around for a couple of days, bringing injured people to the hospital. They'd drive up and hospital personnel would evaluate the person, provide necessary medical supplies, and send them on their way. Gas was obtained from the overturned cars in the hospital parking lot.

Despite Michelle's vivid descriptions, it is impossible to imagine the devastation, not just of landscape and homes, but of emotional and mental security, that Katrina wrought. Yet I don't think I have ever met anyone whose faith seems as unshakable as hers. After BJ finally had surgery in Baton Rouge (where life was relatively normal after Katrina) to repair his broken leg, the couple traveled back and forth weekly, picking up supplies for local people. When crews of volunteers began working on their home, she talked about wondering why people would choose to come here and help them. After a few days, she says, she realized that it wasn't the people who chose to came, but that God had chosen those people. She described the palpable feelings of love in her home, the love of all the wonderful people who have helped, and continue to help, in its rebuilding.

You know, I have to confess that there have been moments this week where I've wondered if my little contributions of painting a home or hanging a towel rack have really made much of a difference to the people here. Listening to Michelle talk about her feelings of awe and gratitude of all the love, given by volunteers' labor, that create the sum total of her home changed my mind. She says her home is an embodiment of God's love, that the work has been done in His name. Facing the room, she said, "God handpicked each of you to be His servants."

And so I am renewed for another day.

Deep thoughts (I wish)

Every day as I'm working, I think of many topics I might write about when I sit down and finish sorting through the day's photos. Then every night, as I sit here, I wonder how I will stay awake long enough to share anything reasonably coherent about this trip. I'd like to be talking about what it must be like to have lived through such a life-defining event like Katrina. I think of the stories I've heard and the pressing need folks have to continue to share their stories. I think about what this trip means to those of us who are working here--what we are learning about ourselves, each other, our faith, and how this trip becomes part of our own stories.

The truth is even if I were well rested, it's too soon to know the answers to some of these questions. It's too soon to know how this trip is shifting my landscape, but something is definitely shifting. Certainly gratitude grows in this environment: gratitude for homes that are standing, gratitude that I don't live in fear, gratitude that my life doesn't feel defined by such a tragedy. Hope grows too. The infinite acts of rebuilding are testimonies to the strength of the human spirit and the willingness to refuse to be defeated.

And I'm struck by the service. The Mississippi United Methodist response for Katrina recovery through the end of last year is more than 144,000 volunteers for more than 4.5 million hours (at an estimated value of almost $88 million dollars). And that's just the Methodist response. That kind of outpouring gives me hope and faith in the goodness of people. It feels good and right to be part of that.

Last night at devotions, a member of the Iowa contingent read a poem called Little to Give by Angie Scheerer in the current issue of Alive Now. It spoke to all of us and part of it goes like this:

You say you have little to give,
That your talents are meager,
That your shortcomings define you?
A harsh judgment, my friend.
For who among us
Has gifts in full measure?
Who among us can be content
With his own abilities?
Life is not what we are
But what we become.

You say you have little to give?
Who among us has more?
Offer the little you have
With a generous heart.
Someone will accept it.

I am certain God has a reason--probably a different one for each of us here--for our presence here. Learning what that is will be an ongoing quest.

You'll notice that all the photos from today are from a single job site. There were other crews but most of the cameras ended up on our site.

A new week begins

After a weekend off, we started back to work today. We're down to fifteen people as of this evening; Jane left Sunday, and Loreene, Nathan, Sally, Aaron, and Jim took off today. We miss them all already and the camp feels a lot emptier. The contributions they made were significant, and we'll miss their presence here. You might miss them too, as they contributed much of the photographs you've been seeing, but we'll try to fill in the gaps. We're wondering how many more photos of scaffolding and people painting you can stand to see, but we'll keep posting if you'll keep viewing.

The work detail today consisted of installing closet shelving, exterior painting, bathtub installation (the start of it), and ongoing interior painting and sheet rock work. Our new friends from Iowa arrived in camp yesterday, a group of about 20 from Iowa City and surrounding areas.

It's late again, and it was a long day. I'm going to turn the rest of the post over to Shelly, who plays a scaffolding engineer in Mississippi, but who is a landscape architect in real life back in Bozeman. Whenever she travels, she sends her friends "Trip Haiku by Shelly" on postcards. She's generously agreed to share them with us.

Hurricane fury
Katrina made a big mess
Need a great big broom

Lemurs cling to boards
Monkeys climb on scaffolding
Paint badge of courage

Sunrise over gulf
Build scaffolding all day long
Sunset over gulf

Bad Haiku easy
Good trip Haiku is quite hard
Better keep day job

That's all for tonight.

Time off

We haven't worked over the weekend and groups have gone many different directions over the past couple of days, so I won't be posting photos until we're back on the work week schedule. Still, I'll try to give you a brief idea of what we've been doing.

Many folks went into New Orleans on Saturday. One group stayed overnight and another group went in for the day for a river tour and horse-drawn carriage ride. My group just went to the French Quarter to walk around and soak up the ambience (as well as cafe au lait, beignets, gumbo, crab cakes, jambalaya, and red beans and rice--hey, it's New Orleans).

Some folks visited with relatives in the area, others went to the Stennis Space Center, and still others went into Gulfport and Biloxi. The weekend is also time for laundry and church. Most of us went to the Main Street United Methodist Church in Bay St. Louis, where we were identified as Katrina volunteers and warmly welcomed by the congregation.

Besides being welcomed and thanked by the congregation at church this morning, there are signs around the area thanking volunteers. Even at the laundromat, the attendant could tell we were from out of the area, shared her Katrina story with us, and thanked us for being here. It's a good feeling to know that the efforts of volunteers are widely acknowledged and appreciated here.

Miss Betty

Several of us had the privilege of working on Miss Betty's house this week, putting the finishing touches on the renovation. Miss Betty's house was damaged severely in Hurricane Katrina, but she put off asking for help for almost two years because, according to her, there were so many more in greater need than she was. I am so grateful that the volunteers who were here before us weren't able to finish the job; if they had, I wouldn't have had the joy of meeting this lovely woman.

Betty is so generous, grateful, and humble. Her generosity and humility shone through in her willingness to wait so long for help. To see her gratitude for such simple things as closet rods, towel racks, and a screen door that closes properly is such a blessing. You feel like Ed McMahon must feel when he hands out those checks with all the zeroes and sees the winner's excitement. Betty claps her hands to her cheeks and smiles that million dollar smile. In fact, she'll be the first to tell you that she feels like she's won a million bucks. After a full day working at Pizza Hut, where she's worked for 31 years, this 78-year-old woman sits in her living room smiling and declaring to anyone who will listen that she thinks her modest two-bedroom, one-bath home is a mansion. She is visibly overwhelmed at the realms of volunteers who have helped put her home back together and tells us that she prays for all of them nightly. She seems to think of each one as personal angel.

After seeing the spirit of Jesus this week, you can be sure that all us here are keeping Miss Betty in our prayers as well.