Before Spring Break, I wrote about my trip to New Orleans last year and how I spent four days gutting out ruined houses and how it gave me things to think about on the way back. I finished with a sort of segue into this week's column about how I was going to go back to work in the same area and do the same kind of work and come back with a different set of questions.
I turned out to be right about one of those assertions: I do have a different set of questions than last time. But the trip itself was much different than the one I took last year.
Last year we didn't have electricity in the building we stayed in. There was always a big diesel generator throbbing away in the background like a semitrailer somebody left running outside in the parking lot.
This year we had electricity, as well as mirrors in the bathrooms, functioning hot water in the showers (provided you got there soon enough) and an actual chef working in the kitchen instead of a steady stream of volunteers. Sure, he still just opened the big cans and cooked what was inside them, but he did it with pizzazz. He needed an assistant, however. The mission gave him a fresh handful of volunteers to help him with lunch and dinner, but the volunteers changed by the day so he had to keep teaching people over and over where everything was and what he wanted done.
Those of us who worked with him all suggested that the mission get him a permanent assistant as soon as possible, but deep down we knew (at least I knew) that the staffing just wasn't there. They didn't have enough volunteers to be able to spare one all day, every day.
The other major change was the mood. It's been a year and a half since Hurricane Katrina, and people are still digging their lives out from under the debris. I helped gut two houses while I was there. One, a shotgun house near the lower ninth ward, had already been cleaned out and cleared by the homeowner, a sweet middle-aged lady named Wanda. All we had to do was tear out the drywall, peel up the linoleum and knock down a couple ceiling fans.
At the end of the day, Wanda came, prayed with us and gave each of us a personal hug. Afterward, she and her family (I can only assume that's who it was) went back to work sorting through their stuff.
The other house had not been touched since September 2006. It was still wet, mold growing at the waterline on the warped walls, warped drawers still sagging out of the furniture, soggy carpet still reeking of the flood. That house, plus its freestanding garage and shed, took three groups two days to gut. The yard was so overgrown the guys couldn't find the water shutoff valve until the second day, and even then they had to dig it out from under a layer of mud.
What got me the most, though, was a street performer in the French Quarter who sang "What a Wonderful World," but changed the lyrics to say "New Orleans, we will rebuild you" at a certain point in the song. I couldn't help thinking to myself that he could have worded it better - the mood has definitely changed from "we will rebuild" to "we are rebuilding." But that mood can only be kept up if people keep contributing their time and other assets to the efforts.
Houses don't gut themselves; houses don't refinish themselves. I just hope they get enough people down there to keep up at the rate they've been going. Eighteen months after the fact, New Orleans still needs a lot of help.
I hope that help keeps coming.
Write to Joanna at jllees@bsu.edu
Read More
Three Air Jam teams take home the win
October 12, 2012Nineteen teams shimmied, shook and flipped for a sold out John R. Emens Auditorium on Thursday night during the 25th annual Air Jam.
Bill Clinton Speaks at North Central High School
October 12, 2012Former President's Speech Could Have Effect on State Senate Race
