☰

Global

WITNESS - "Hurricane Katrina was big, but God is bigger"


    Jon Hurdle has been reporting for Reuters from Philadelphia since 2004. A native of England, he has been a print journalist for 25 years. In the following story he recounts his experiences as a volunteer helping to rebuild after the damage wrought by Hurricane Katrina 2-1/2 years ago.

    By Jon Hurdle

    OCEAN SPRINGS, Mississippi (Reuters) - At 6 a.m., thelights come on at Camp Victor, a base run by the LutheranChurch for volunteers helping with recovery efforts 2-1/2 yearsafter Hurricane Katrina slammed into Mississippi's Gulf Coast.

    I climb out of my wooden bunk and stand in the breakfastline with about 100 other volunteers from around the country.

    We eat oatmeal or pancakes, fuel for a long day's labour onthe thousands of homes that are still in need of repair longafter one of the worst natural disasters in the United States.

    My fellow campers are mostly middle-aged men from Lutheranchurches in Minnesota, Wisconsin and Iowa who have taken a weekoff work or away from retirement to cut lumber, paint walls orclear debris from the homes that were badly damaged ordestroyed in the August 29, 2005 hurricane. The storm killedmore than 1,400 people along the U.S. Gulf Coast.

    Some come with construction experience; others sweep floorsor cook food; all are motivated by the goodwill that hasbrought more than 11,000 volunteers to the camp since the stormhit the Gulf Coast and collapsed the levees protecting nearbyNew Orleans from the sea.

    The Lutheran Disaster Relief camp can take as many as 220volunteers at a time. It is in a former garment factory inOcean Springs, a pretty coastal town that seems to have beenspared the worst of the storm.

    I went as a Quaker -- albeit an aspiring one -- rather thanas a journalist, and hoped the humanitarian work would be arewarding experience for me as well as a practical help.

    But long journalistic habits also led me to observe andrecord. I had time, given that I often stood aside while otherswith the necessary construction skills did the rebuilding work.

    HELPING MISS HATTIE

    On the first of our five days, our group of eight from aQuaker community near Philadelphia is sent to the home of "MissHattie," an elderly black woman whose roof, previously repairedafter hurricane damage, has been hit again by a falling tree.

    Lacking roofing skills, we are put to work chain-sawing thefallen tree into pieces and stacking them in the front yard.

    We cut as much as we can but our small chain saw is finallydefeated by the tree's girth, and the camp managers can't finda larger saw, so we break for a lunch of spaghetti and sweetpotatoes in Miss Hattie's kitchen.

    She is grateful, charming and glad of our company. But Iwonder if clearing a tree from the yard of a perfectlyhabitable house is the most important thing in a state wheresome 13,000 hurricane victims are still living in trailerssupplied by the much-maligned Federal Emergency ManagementAgency.

    Later, I help deliver a new washing machine and two clothesdryers to two homes that have been renovated after flooding byhurricane-driven seawater.

    Outside one house, a saucepan on a string dangles from atree branch about 20 feet (6 metres) off the ground. The panwas probably blown there by the hurricane, the homeowner says.

    In Waveland, west of Biloxi, it's plain that Katrina did alot more than deposit saucepans in trees.

    Leaving the highway, we drive down a muddy road into anapocalyptic landscape of broken trees, bare concrete pads wherehouses once stood, and some piles of debris.

    On the cinder-block foundation of one house, a stack ofbelongings sits rotting in the rain. A tattered tarp, whichpresumably once covered these possessions, flaps in the wind.

    Outside a nearby church -- which occupies what looks like alarge shed -- is a hand-painted sign saying "Katrina was bigbut God is bigger."

    It's a more cheerful picture in Pascagoula where volunteersare making good progress rebuilding a home in which floodwatersrose near to the ceiling of the first floor. The new one isbuilt on 9-foot (2.7-metre) stilts to ensure no repeat.

    The owner, 81-year-old "Miss Ruby" -- who lives in atrailer on the site -- cooks a fried chicken lunch for thevolunteers.

    As we eat in the warm January sunshine, she pulls out akaraoke machine and, balancing her high heels on a sheet ofplywood, serenades us with renditions of classics includingPatsy Kline's "Crazy" and Elvis Presley's "Hound Dog."

    Our efforts may be just a drop in the post-Katrina bucketbut it's clear we've made one old lady very happy.

    (Editing by Michael Christie and Frances Kerry)

    (To read more Reuters Witness stories click here:http://www.reuters.com/news/globalcoverage/reutersWitnesses)