As the week wore on, I got another — that’s one other — email offering to buy a phone. Yesterday, I received a fourth offer. Four. Of 15,000 readers.

Oh, lots of people have been by this blog to read the near-daily postings of my friend Pam. Her stories from Houston are heart wrenching and sometimes heart warming.

I have been stupified by the low response — oh, we’ll buy as many phones as we can with our slight contributions — until a friend reminded me how easy it is to assume that others are picking up the slack. “I read your plan and I thought it was a great idea,”she said. “I figured you’d get a great response and you wouldn’t need my contribution.” She then promised to pitch in to help get phones in the hands of folks who need them.

If, by chance, you thought someone else was offering to buy a phone — they’re only about $60 a piece if we get enough volume , please think again. Then drop me an email with the subject “Katrina Mobile Phone Project” and let me know that you’ll pitch in, too.

Thanks!

Friday September 16, 2005

Last night around 5:00, Bobbi got a call that her 92 year old father was “acting strangely.” He lives about 10 minutes from here. She rushed out and called about 2 hours later from the hospital. Her dad was on his way for a CAT scan, but it appeared he had a stroke. I had offered to take Bobbi and Vic out to dinner tonight. I told Bobbi I would make myself some dinner here, and take care of Cassie. Vic called 2 minutes later to say he was coming home, and he and I could get something to eat. I tried to encourage him to go to be with Bobbi, but he insisted we eat. Said he could not get her on cell as she’s not allowed to use it in the hospital. We headed to a Texas BBQ place.

Once back here, Vic tried again to reach her, and decided to go on to the hospital. Shortly after he left Bobbi called to confirm it was a stroke and her dad was in intensive care. I told her Vic was on the way… she sounded relieved. I vaguely heard them come in around midnight.

Again that feeling that life goes on, that there are everyday events that are reminders that so much happens in and around us that it’s often hard to keep up.
________________________

I talked my way past the officer at the front gate. Once inside the gate, it was clear that things were very different. Lots of fencing was gone, and other roadways were restricted. All the tents were gone, as were the basketball nets. I made my way to the arena, and once inside was able to get a “volunteer” wrist band. That, combined with my hospital badge, again gave me as much freedom to move about as I needed. On my way to the arena I had decided that I wasn’t going to stay long, just long enough to find people and say goodbye.
________________________

I found Raydell immediately. Jean was off checking about housing. He was about to try to get some sleep. Down the row from him was Keisha, Gloria and Tyrone, but they were no where around. And Just beyond them I saw Lynn. She’s still not sure what she’s doing, but was thankful to have what she does.

I couldn’t find Naomi and Tamara, and Gilda had gone to the post office. Lethia was preparing to go to the post office, and I just caught her. She again talked about the children and how they are the future.

As I was walking through the area where people were eating, I saw Keisha. Tyrone came running up to me and threw his arms around my leg, big smile on his face. He said he had “lost his balloon.” When I had seen them earlier in the week, I had made a “balloon” for him out of the plastic gloves we were wearing. Today, he asked for another, as did the other two children sitting at the table. I got some gloves and made them all balloons. I said my goodbyes to Tyrone, his mom and grandmom, deciding this was the best time to leave.
________________________

There was an undercurrent of dis-ease today. Tempers are getting short, people are bored and they’re tired of waiting. It was the first day I felt tension in the building. It has amazed me how well contained so many peole have managed to be. There have been reports of drug selling and violence, but for the most part, these people have remained good spirited. I hope that doesn’t change….

Saturday September 17, 2005

I slept like a baby last night, utterly worn out. Bobbi is back at the hospital this morning. I never had an opportunity to get back to finish my entry yesterday as things in the Samuels home got crazy. Bobbi spent the whole day at the hospital with her father. He is not doing well, and I know it is very hard for Bobbi. This is a very tightly-knit family and what effects one, effects all.

I ended up making dinner for seven adults and one 3 year old. Chicken breasts in a mushroom, white wine and cream sauce, couscous, sautéed zucchini and tomatoes with feta, and salad. Not bad for cooking in a strange kitchen on a gas stove which I’ve never cooked on. The family again celebrated Shabbat, a scaled down version from last week. And Vic said a prayer for his father in law.

Today has been a very quiet day here at the house. Bobbi spent the morning at the hospital, and Vic watched Nathaniel’s soccer game. Hard to believe that there are soccer games for 3 year olds. Bobbi’s dad is not well. He’s lost use of his left side completely, and sleeps most of the time. He seems to know who Bobbi is, but other than that is not very responsive. She is really struggling with how to proceed. althoug she has a signed directive that no extreme measures be taken, she also has heard him say that he is to be kept alive no moatter what. She knows it’s a nursing home or hospice. You can see the sadness in her eyes.

There was a diversion this afternoon as two other grandchildren, Meagan and Jeremy, were here for a couple of hours to swim. Vic and Bobbi are so good with their grandchildren, so patient. They are both very dedicated to children’s issues in general. It’s obvious they understand that kids are the most important part of the future.

That’s the same thing Lethia was saying the other day…the importance of the children, that they are the future. I’ve seen so many children these last days. Many laughing and playing, others crying. I wonder what scars they will carry from this trauma. Just before I left yesterday, I noticed some young white women taping up drawings made by the kids. All of them were of sun and clouds, trees, houses, children and grown ups. Many had written the word “care” on the paper somewhere. These were simple drawings, but quite poignant. There was also a collage sent from an elementary school in Boulder signed by the students with things written like “We love you,” and “You are safe now.” It was addressed to the children survivors.

Sunday September 18, 2005

It’s early Sunday morning and I’ve been awake for some time. It’s going home day, and I’m ready. I imagine today will bring a range of feelings. Sadness, relief, grief, joy. It’s hard to believe I’ve only been here 10 days. It feels like much longer than that. I can’t begin to know what it must be like for the survivors, who have been “housed” for over two weeks.

I read earlier that there is such a thing as “transfer trauma.” It’s a term used to describe what the elderly go through when they are moved. It is thought that this kind of trauma can shorten a life or even kill someone. I can believe that younger people forced to “transfer” also experience this kind of trauma. Whether it shortens life may not be true, but it certainly can impact health, both physical and psychological.

The trauma survivors have experienced will stay with them a long time. Bobbi wonders how people will fare six months from now, when the true impact of the experience is felt. She worries there will not be enough/any help for them. I believe many are already experiencing PTSD symptoms. If nothing else there is depression. The blank stares, the lethargy is evident. Even some of those I came to know showed signs of depression. Raydell certainly spent most of his days either sleeping or staring off into space. Earl admitted to nightmares. Many said they couldn’t really think to long about their escape without feeling enormous grief. Many said they knew they would never be able to go back, the memories were too hard.
______________________________

I’m on the plane, we’ve just left Houston. Saying good by to Bobbi was hard. We talked a little this morning about the choices that lie ahead for her. She believes her dad will never recover enough to have any kind of life. And, she does not wish for him to live a life that has no substance. She has to decide today whether to have the feeding tube inserted through his nose. She talked with her sons yesterday to get their input, and all agree that he will need hospice to care for these last days. She was tearful describing this. She was tearful saying good ye to me. I shed my tears as well…..

It will be a while before I will clearly know the impact of this experience for me. I can only say, I don’t regret a minute……

Through your generosity, we will be able to get mobile phones into the hands of the most in-need victims of these huricanes and the volunteers who are assisting them. The phones will be place through Care for Elders/Sheltering Arms in Houston through program director Jan Edwards.

The first shipment of phones is on its way to Houston, thanks to the generosity of AIRMEDIA, which donated 60 pre-paid phones to the project.

You can still contribute to the project in one of two ways:

1. You can donate a mobile phone(s), with or without pre-paid service. We are collecting phones at the Guidewire Group office and plan to send a second shipment late next week.

2. You can donate money to purchase phones and/or pre-paid service plans. Checks can be made to “Big Bark Publishing,” noting “Katrina Phone Project” in the memo field. Donations can be sent to the Guidewire Group office.

The address at Guidewire Group is:

Chris Shipley

Katrina Phone Project

Guidewire Group LLC

600 Townsend Street, Suite 120e

San Francisco, CA 94103

To give you a sense of how much impact these phones will have on the lives of those affected by these storms, let me share with you a message I received from Jan this morning.

Cell phones were literally our lifelines at the Dome and other sites at “Reliant City.” The frail elders we were working with were not able to access phones like the other evacuees. It’s difficult to describe how many and insurmountable the barriers were in that setting for our folks. . . It was problematic for us trying to find and help them. We were on foot between all three far-flung sites in teams, and this is where the phones became invaluable. We used them to talk to each other, to locate elders who had been repeatedly relocated or had wandered, and to talk to our home base for resource information. They allowed us to call for nurses and doctors to come to the cot of an elder who needed immediate attention. We used them to set up arrangements for placement, or transportation to hospitals, or other appointments. We used them to talk to shelter staff to arrange for services and wheel-chairs and the like. We used them to try to locate family members who had become separated at the complex, and to reconnect them with family elsewhere. We were able to find out the status of family members for our elders who had no other means of reaching them to find out if they weres safe. Many had gone through the entire disaster without knowing if their nearest and dearest had even survived. I used them to connect a lone elder with family members in Alabama, and to arrange for him to get home to some friends safely. Our volunteers were most generous with their personal phones and their minutes, but there were times when they didn’t have them, or whatever, and having the four donated phones we did have made so much more possible for us to accomplish.

Now, we are challenged to provide service for those elders who remain in temporary shelter or permanent housing, scattered throughout the county. We plan to do case management on site for them in a variety of settings, but we will have, I believe, similar needs for communication among the workers and volunteers, and to connect to community services and other informational resources. As generous as this donation is, it may be that we can provide them directly to the seniors for their own ongoing use. They have been placed in different housing situations in a strange city and have many unmet needs to deal with in the long term, as well as safety concerns. There are situations and needs that are emerging as I type this and try to answer my phone, for which I am sure the donated phones will make helping possible.

On behalf of everyone we serve, and all of us at Care for Elders, we send our gratitude.

Sincerely,

Jan Edwards, LCSW

Through your generosity, we will be able to get mobile phones into the hands of the most in-need victims of these huricanes and the volunteers who are assisting them. The phones will be place through Care for Elders/Sheltering Arms in Houston through program director Jan Edwards.

The first shipment of phones is on its way to Houston, thanks to the generosity of AIRMEDIA, which donated 60 pre-paid phones to the project.

You can still contribute to the project in one of two ways:

1. You can donate a mobile phone(s), with or without pre-paid service. We are collecting phones at the Guidewire Group office and plan to send a second shipment late next week.
2. You can donate money to purchase phones and/or pre-paid service plans. Checks can be made to “Big Bark Publishing,” noting “Katrina Phone Project” in the memo field. Donations can be sent to the Guidewire Group office.

The address at Guidewire Group is:

Chris Shipley

Katrina Phone Project

Guidewire Group LLC

600 Townsend Street, Suite 120e

San Francisco, CA 94103

To give you a sense of how much impact these phones will have on the lives of those affected by these storms, let me share with you a message I received from Jan this morning.

Cell phones were literally our lifelines at the Dome and other sites at “Reliant City.” The frail elders we were working with were not able to access phones like the other evacuees. It’s difficult to describe how many and insurmountable the barriers were in that setting for our folks. . . It was problematic for us trying to find and help them. We were on foot between all three far-flung sites in teams, and this is where the phones became invaluable. We used them to talk to each other, to locate elders who had been repeatedly relocated or had wandered, and to talk to our home base for resource information. They allowed us to call for nurses and doctors to come to the cot of an elder who needed immediate attention. We used them to set up arrangements for placement, or transportation to hospitals, or other appointments. We used them to talk to shelter staff to arrange for services and wheel-chairs and the like. We used them to try to locate family members who had become separated at the complex, and to reconnect them with family elsewhere. We were able to find out the status of family members for our elders who had no other means of reaching them to find out if they weres safe. Many had gone through the entire disaster without knowing if their nearest and dearest had even survived. I used them to connect a lone elder with family members in Alabama, and to arrange for him to get home to some friends safely. Our volunteers were most generous with their personal phones and their minutes, but there were times when they didn’t have them, or whatever, and having the four donated phones we did have made so much more possible for us to accomplish.

Now, we are challenged to provide service for those elders who remain in temporary shelter or permanent housing, scattered throughout the county. We plan to do case management on site for them in a variety of settings, but we will have, I believe, similar needs for communication among the workers and volunteers, and to connect to community services and other informational resources. As generous as this donation is, it may be that we can provide them directly to the seniors for their own ongoing use. They have been placed in different housing situations in a strange city and have many unmet needs to deal with in the long term, as well as safety concerns. There are situations and needs that are emerging as I type this and try to answer my phone, for which I am sure the donated phones will make helping possible.

On behalf of everyone we serve, and all of us at Care for Elders, we send our gratitude.

Sincerely,

Jan Edwards, LCSW

I know, I know: you’ll believe it when you see it. . . but I promise, I really will make a habit of posting here.

By the way, Six Apart is growing like crazy. I stopped by the office on 4th Street just a few months ago and you could shoot a rocket through the place and not hit anything. Today, they’re packing them in and Barak tells me they’ll reconfigure the space this weekend to accommodate another 30 people they expect to add to the company in the months ahead. I’m a big fan of Barak, Mena, Ben and the rest of the crew at Six Apart and I’m glad to see them growing in a good and sustainable way.

Sometimes, I’m glad they do. Beyond the subject lines that promise improved performance and greater wealth, there is a certain poetry to spam these days, poetry that is at once provokative and insane.

Take for example, this free verse:

A single-handledly annoying bowling ball
takes a peek at a knowingly wrinkled sandwich.
When a cocker spaniel is eagerly cosmopolitan,
a squid near a skyscraper figures out the pig pen.
Indeed, the ski lodge related to a paycheck somewhat
borrows money from a light bulb.
A pit viper defined by a grain of sand secretly admires the radioactive steam engine.

I would love to be back in that dusty seminar room in Alden Hall, reading this to my poetry class, watching the heads nod at its profound insight.

Monday, September 12, 2005

I finally slept well, probably because I was exhausted. Even though I was there only 6 1/2 hours, it’s non-stop. Pretty tiring physically — and emotionally. These are life experiences that most of us will never have. And listening to them takes it out of me after a while. But, these folks are so strong and determined.

Reliant Park, as it is called, is a complex of four buildings/centers. There’s the Astrodome, Reliant Center, Reliant Arena and Reliant Stadium. These are all fairly close together, but they are enormous buildings, so moving around and between them takes a lot of walking. This morning when I arrived at the Arena where I check in, I noticed some trolleys. Found out they travel around the park and are for anyone. I took advantage of that to get to the dome. At noon time, I took one back to the Arena to get some lunch and there were two people from Amarillo giving 10 minute massages to medical staff. What a wonderful treat! I took full advantage of my medical “badge” and got myself one. It mostly certainly helped me through the afternoon.

Inside the dome it looked like the population had diminished some. I put on the rubber gloves and set out to find some of the people I had seen yesterday. Sam and her husband were off getting ID’s which the motor vehicle department is providing for free. Not licenses, but photo id’s. Jean was off getting food stamps and trying to contact family. I couldn’t find LaKeisha, and I should have been able to if she was there. She had been given a huge air mattress for her cot. Her space was easily visible from far away. I hope she got news of family and is on her way to join them.

The woman who gave me the hug is waiting for housing still. She and I chatted while she put her 3 year old son’s hair in corn rows. I tried to distract him as she was pulling the rows tight. I saw her later in the day and she was doing the hair of a young teen boy. I have the sense that she’s a tough woman who has a very warm heart. She said she had been on her way to work when she realized she needed to flee. Said there’s a check waiting for her, wonders how/if she’ll get it.

And there were new stories today. Those I spoke with are all waiting for housing. The frustration level is beginning to rise as they wait, and wait. At the same time, they are thankful for being alive, recognizing that they just need to be patient a little longer. I think there will be many more hoops for them to jump through before they really are settled. Some of their stories…….

________________________________

“Brenda” and her common-law husband, his three children and his mother all lived in Chamette, I believe one of the hardest hit regions of LA. They took refuge in the high school which had been set up as a shelter. They were there for five days with no water and no food. She and her husband rationed a honey bun they had been given, and the kids shared a bag of potato chips. They waded out after five days and managed to get to New Orleans where they were able to get on a bus. She said the conditions at the high school were awful. I have heard from others that the Chamette high school shelter was terrible.

“Rose” a 52 year old woman alone. She managed to get her 18 year old daughter to Dallas to stay with the daughter’s step sister. “I want her to have her senior year in high school. Nothing’s going to stop that.” Rose did not evacuate until after Katrina had gone through, but before the levees went. She ended up in the second floor of a home. They could hear helicopters overhead, and tried to flag them down, but “they just flew by like they wanted us to die.” She and the others were rescued by boat and taken to the Superdome, which she calls the “hell dome.” She and others described it as inhuman, “feces everywhere, men with guns stealing, it was bad.” She knows her mother and brother are probably at the Reliant Center, but needs to “get her business done” before she finds them.

“Troy” is in his mid thirties, was a waiter in LA. He made sure his wife and three children, 13, 8 and 3, were safe on the causeway and then went back with his brother to help others get out. As he described it, they had helped many get to safer ground and he got this feeling that he needed to be with his family. He went back to the causeway and minutes after finding his wife and kids, a bus pulled up right in front of them. They climbed on. Had he not been there, they would have been separated. He thanked his God for watching over him.

______________________

Outside the dome, in one of the huge parking lots, they’ve set up a line of basketball nets. As I was leaving for the day, I noticed there was a very large black police officer playing with two small boys who looked to be about 5 and 8. The kids were clearly having a blast shooting and “beating” the cop at this game. He was great with them, encouraging them to try all different shots. He had taught the older boy how to do a lay-up and kept telling him he needed to practice from the left side…his weaker side. It’s the small, seemly everyday events like this that are part of my reward here.

These are stories of what happened before they arrived in Houston. I’m beginning to hear more current stories which clearly indicate that life goes on, or not. Several women told me there had been a death in the dome last night. Two medical personnel had been walking on the floor and noticed a baby in a stoller not looking well. They took vitals and wisked the baby off. The child died before they could get it the more sophisticated help they needed.

Later in the day, I talked to an elderly woman in a wheelchair. She was with her family, some eight strong. Last night her grandaughter delivered this woman’s first great grandchild, a girl. Mom is fine and coming home tomorrow. The baby is to stay in the hospital for a day or two for observation. A child of hope….

I took a mental health day yesterday and went to the Houston Zoo. I was exhausted when I got back here after walking in the hot sun. I’m including here a piece of what my day was like.

Bobbi said I had to see the sea lions perform, so I went back to their pool at the appointed time. I was standing next to a white man and two young children. Turns out he’s from 40 miles north of Gulfport, MS. He works for NASA and he and his family took shelter in the NASA “bunker” during the hurricane. After the storm he went back to find his home still standing, but not much else. His neighbor’s house was destroyed and he lost a big stand of trees. He said he couldn’t stand to look at the destruction and brought his family to Houston for a while. “I know I’m lucky. My house is standing and I have a job. The government is paying me.” We talked briefly about “survivor guilt,” the “why was I spared?” guilt. There will be many of those who ask “why me?” on both sides of the aisle over these next months.

There was something about the way some of the animals paced that echoed what I sense in the dome. The animals pace because they’re bored. While the survivors don’t pace, there’s that same familiarity of being stuck in a “cage” with little to do or little opportunity to do what they need to do.

_____________________________

Before I left this morning, Bobbi had an e-mail from a friend asking if she knew how to find someone in the Reliant complex. There was a man in Fort Worth who knew his 71 year-old wife is in the complex, but hasn’t been able to find her. I set out to see if I could help. The maze of bureaucracy is amazing and with my badge I get service. I can’t imagine what it’s like for these folks. I went to several different sites and got info on the husband. I called Bobbi to tell her, and she said the woman had been found. Good…..

As I was leaving to go back to the dome, I came across two volunteers trying to get three elderly people in wheel chairs to the shuttle. I ended up accompanying one of them, Pat, to the arena. She was quite a lady. Her father was one of the Neville Brothers and her sister was a performer. She and her sister had been in the “hell dome” [the New Orleans Superdome]. She described the conditions as bad, as we’ve all heard. She said a man had been beaten to death after he was found raping a young boy. Her sister was approached by several young men who “asked” for her pocketbook. When they found she had nothing, they raped and beat her.

Pat said she had been a foster mom for terminally ill kids in New Orleans. She made sure her two foster kids made it out with her. Once in Houston, both kids found their parents and Pat gave them over to their parents. “No reason I should keep them when conditions are like this.” She had called social services to say she had done this. A pretty responsible woman.

I tried to find the people I’ve connected with over the last few days. I found Brenda and her common-law husband and family. The mom was leaving today to go to Baton Rouge to live with a family member and the rest of the family is heading to Delaware tomorrow. They’ve taken an offer of a house and job in construction as a laborer. They were thrilled. The only other folks I could find were Jean and her husband Raydell. They are still unclear what they’re doing. But he surely is ready to leave. He’s leaving all the foot work to her, it seems. I couldn’t find anyone else, so I assume they’ve found homes.

There were many stories again today, more than I can write about, but I certainly have notes for all…..
______________________________

A woman approached me saying she had just found out she and her fiancee had housing. She wanted to know what to do. I took her to the check out area at which point she turned and hugged me. “I’m just so happy I have to hug someone!”

“Diane,” a fifty-seven year-old woman by herself. She said she was waiting for housing (as they all are), but I had the sense she was terrified to move anywhere. She had made a few friends with the people around her, but they were younger. She has family in Baton Rouge and Mississippi, but she doesn’t want to go with them. She and others had been on the roof of a building for three days with little to eat and little water. She was rescued by helicopter when it landed on the roof.

“Lynn” was living in a shelter in New Orleans. She’s 52 and is mentally ill. She suffers from deep depressions and panic attacks. She said a social worker in the dome had helped her contact her children, but they do not want her. “They can’t understand the depression.” She was overwhelmed with the help she’s received since arriving in Houston. She hopes to be in some kind of community living situation.

“Naomi” is an energetic woman who escaped with her 18 year old daughter, Tamara. They evacuated to I-10 and waited to be picked up. She said the conditions were horrible. She had been notified that the housing authority had located a house for her. She was thrilled. I had the sense that she’s been advocating for herself the minute she got here. “I’ve never had a house. I won’t have anyone above or below me.” Tamara hopes to get into college here once they’re settled.

“Rebecca and Joseph” in their late forties probably. They got separated and she ended up in Arkansas. She got to Houston over the weekend. They were to have married last Friday, 9/9, Joseph’s birthday. What is interesting about this couple is that I met them 2 hours before they were to be married in the dome. A red cross volunteer got wind of their story and arranged to have them married here, wedding dress, cake and all. When I met them I had no idea this was planned already.

____________________________

The one theme that runs throughout the stories is the faith they have in their God. Everyone says that God had a plan and they were part of it. Several talked about the crime in New Orleans. “God was tired of caring for us there. This was his way of saying that we need to do something more, something different.”

One of the things that Pat said to me when we were talking… She was angry at the way the young men at the Superdome had taken over the place and were really extorting people. A lot of them had guns. One young man was selling bottled water for $3 each. She got after him about treating his people that way, and how would he like it if someone tried to sell his mom water. She said he returned to her with a case of water. She believes that the travesty of the evacuations and the problems at the Superdome and convention center were not about race. “It’s about the haves and the have-nots.”

The wedding was about to start when I left. There was media everywhere and it was becoming a circus, including the arrival of the boxer, Holyfield. But it’s clear that life does go on, even in the worst of times.

It’s early morning and the house is quiet. I’m not an early morning person, but have found that rising before Bobbi and Vic are up gives me some time to reflect and “be.” Today there will be big changes taking place at Reliant Park. Last night, the elderly and disabled were moved into the arena. Today, those in the dome will move to the arena and tomorrow those housed at the center will move as well. They’re consolidating everyone in one place.

While they’re moving people over today, the whole medical unit is breaking down and will be gone by 5:00 PM. I talked to one of the people at the medical staffing desk and she said there are no more “emergencies” now, i.e. medical emergencies directly related to their time in LA. Any emergencies now will be handled by hospitals themselves. I asked about mental health and she said the same was true there. Anyone with mental health issues will be directed to outpatient clinics. She indicated my badge will not be good after today. I’m sure I’ll find a way in tomorrow.

I understand why they’re doing this. An effort to get those who are lingering, and there are some, to begin to move into the community. As well, the city of Houston has said “Two weeks is enough,” and is turning the reins over to the Red Cross. I just hope the level of care will continue. The city has done an amazing job taking care of these folks. I want to start a campaign to nominate the citizens of Houston as Time magazine’s “People of the Year”.
_______________________

An exhausting day. I think my body is beginning to tell me that it’s had enough. My feet ache, as does my back. It doesn’t seem that I walked or stood any more. I’m just tired!

I started at the dome, checking in on my families. Brenda and her family were gone, and there was no sign of Rebecca and Joseph. I imagine they are on a honeymoon somewhere. Jean and Raydell were packed up and ready to move. They are heading to Baton Rouge where Jean has family. She said she had waited in line for 3 hours to get a photo ID and they had to send people home as the photo machine broke down. She was heading back today after they got moved.

I also talked to Naomi and Tamara. Tamara wants to study psychology in college and really hopes to get into school soon. Naomi said the man who is giving her the house will pick her up later today to take her to the place. He wants her to pick the carpeting since she’s going to live there. (This is amazing generosity and I hope she isn’t getting scammed. Yesterday, they were announcing that people should not go with anyone who has housing unless they have official papers of some kind. The ways people will take advantage is sickening.)

Once I had checked in with those folks, I went to the arena. They had moved the elderly and disabled last night, so I thought I might find Pat. I did not, but did find Gilda, whom I had met yesterday. She was settling in. I spent some time talking with people and running errands for them Gilda needed water, another needed blankets, another envelopes to send her information to FEMA. I told her she could just walk that info right to the FEMA office in the building. She didn’t know they were there.

There were a few more stories today, each one has some unique twist to it, something that makes that person, that family, stand apart….
______________________________

“Dorothy,” an elderly woman with her daughter and grandchildren. She flagged me down asking how to use the Metro card she had been given. Once I got the information for her, she seemed to want to chat. She said her momma had always told her she needed to “be up” so that she wouldn’t embarrass herself. She said she always wants to be sure she knows what she’s doing. She and her family had waited out the hurricane at home and she ended up on an air mattress with her baby granddaughter being pushed out by other family. She was another who said that the corruption in New Orleans had gotten too bad. “The Lord was tired and gave us this…”

“Elliot,” an attractive young man I met as I was leaving for the day. When I asked what his plans were, he said he was going back to New Orleans as soon as he was allowed. I asked if he would find work helping to rebuild. His comment: “I won’t do nothing for the city. I’m going back to my old job.” He is angry with the lack of response from the city. He’s a chef for a restaurant in the French Quarter and knows as soon as it reopens he’ll be working again.

“Lethia,” an elderly woman who I met briefly early in the day, but we connected again waiting for the trolley. She got out on an air mattress and went to the Superdome, hell dome. She has the same horror stories of crime and violence that the others have. She said, “It’s the mama’s fault. They don’t pay any attention to their young ones. They’re too busy on their cell phones.” She too talked about her God and said he had worked overtime looking out for the children.

“Earl,” a 52 year old man who was eating lunch when I sat down to take a break. He said that his family of eight, including himself had gotten out safely. He had taken them to the “bridge” and went back to stay in the house with his dog. He had fallen asleep and woke up to when he sensed his shirt was wet. He took the dog to the second floor, fell back asleep and woke up later, realizing that the water was still rising. He made a hole in the ceiling and climbed into the attic. He realized he needed to get out and put together some kind of raft. He and the dog got on the raft and made it to dry land. He said he passed a number of bodies floating. “I felt bad. There was nothing I could do.”

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When Earl had finished telling his story, he thanked me for listening. He said I was the first person who had listened all the way through. “People can’t hear this story. They just walk away.” I asked him if he was dreaming about his experience. He has been having some bad dreams. I told him that is normal and that he should expect he might have more. I also said his family might have nightmares, and that he should let them know it’s normal, it’s okay.

Before leaving, I went to the area where the new arrivals from the dome are being housed. I hadn’t stepped into the area for two minutes and I heard, “Miss Pam.” It was Jean setting up her and Raydells’ things. Down the row from her was the woman who had asked about tickets to the amusement park earlier this week. I thought she, her son and mom had found housing as I hadn’t seen them in a couple of days. Her name is Keisha, her mom is Gloria and son, Tyrone. They’ve found housing and are waiting to get the required paperwork. Hopefully tomorrow I’ll find Naomi and Tamara.

I’m not sure what tomorrow will bring. I talked with the head of the mental health unit, and he seemed to think I would have no problem getting in. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stay, but I’ve told some people I’ll be back to say goodbye. I do feel connected to them and will be sad to say goodbye. This has been some kind of nine days…..