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Edited on Tue Oct-25-05 01:11 PM by Kade
Got this yesterday from a friend who is in New Orleans helping with repairs. Part about Bush* makes me want to vomit.
"More thoughts, seems I am always thinking, but then how can one not? Tuesday we had hoped to start with Habitat but we are delayed again. This time for a reason I personally think is ridiculous. The president is down here again for another photo-op to prove to the country that his administration cares so much for the people of the south. Not only was Hope Village ( the place where the Habitat homes are being built) shut down for the day and over fifty volunteers from as far away as Detroit left with nothing to do, but... Here is the best part, the few volunteers that were Bush fans were allowed in for the photo-op but before that could happen they had to dismantle a home that was near completion. Yes, you read that correctly. The home was too near completion for "W" to be working on so the home was dismantled so as to get a better shot. Goodness gracious we certainly don't want the country to think that the poor folks down here are capable of taking care of themselves without the help of the government do we. These are my thoughts so I do not have to be objective. An entire work site shut down and a home partially dismantled because "W" wants to manipulate the press. Oh, did I forget to mention the home was one being built by a group from Dallas, Texas. What a coincidence and how convenient. Yes I am angry."
More Below: The rest is just a personal account of the resconstrution effort, very little political content (Pretty long as well)
Poverty is so common in this area. There are homes here that in Portland would have been torn down years ago. In fact I can not recall ever seeing such conditions in Oregon and this includes the migrant villages. Generation after generation of families have lived in such conditions. The social economic reasons are too great to address in this essay, but let’s talk when I get home. Why not show this in the presidential photo-op? And for the families that only have a dilapidated shotgun home to reside, if it did not suffer damage in the hurricanes people consider themselves lucky. Things are really put into perspective when I consider that view point. I have heard it said by many here that the storms gave some a better living situation. No longer are families living in rat infested shacks but are being billeted in decommissioned military bases with clean walls and no rodents. In fact the president’s mother even commented on national television to such effect. Why should these people be complaining? It is a question I hear over and over, and I must admit with some degree of shame that it comes from some of my beloved family. I remind myself and my group that we have entered into a different world, that this maybe the USA but we are strangers to the local ways. I ask my cousin if he can not understand that even if you only own a rat infested $hot g un house that at least it can be called home and loosing that place is a far greater loss than we can imagine. The chance of homeownership in an area that is experiencing explosive growth like Portland has made it virtually impossible for many to buy a home. So the only way for many to own is by inheritance. Destroy that home and one of the only sources of pride is also destroyed. Life is hard here and if your skin is dark in color life is even harder. So this trip to help after the storms has exposed me to dynamics that as a small child I was not aware of. I only knew that I was not allowed to play with the children down the road, and as a Yankee, raised in Illinois I could not understand what skin had to do with summer time playmates. I have often felt deprived that my father left here to work in Illinois and raise his family, but as an adult I can now appreciate the difference in societal norms. Oh, so much rambling. My mind does not slow down and has not while I have been here. One can not separate how this culture works from the effects of the storm. The wind and rain are gone now but the storms aftermath is now just building.
We spend the rest of Tuesday just kind of spinning our wheels. Margaret is impatient to get started. I deal with it better as I know how the south works, and that is nothing happens quickly and usually not without knowing someone. To work off some of the pent up energy, Margaret has started running in the morning, good for her.
Wednesday is a much better day. We arrive at the Habitat work site to find a flurry of activity. Three homes being worked on, one is being built by only women, two more slabs being poured. Hope Village will be a neighborhood of all habitat houses. They are nice homes but in terrible areas of Covington. Segregation is still alive and well in the south. The idea was explained to me that by placing new homes in run down neighborhoods the hope is the rest of the area will begin to renovate itself. I am not sure the idea works by what I have seen.
We meet our contact Claire under the big white dining tent. She offers us coffee and donuts and gives us a short history of the project. I mention that I am a licensed contractor wanting to help with repairs of storm damaged homes. She is so pleased. Not many volunteers want the old home work. It is always so much easier to build new than figure out how to fix the old. Bring on the old I tell her and she does. Wait here for Craig, we are told, we do and he brings with him the list. On the list are three addresses along with the names of the homeowners. Two have been identified as repairable and the last, Katie’s home is anyone’s guess. Well not really, one contractor has said tear it down and one has declared it fixable. Craig wants my opinion; I think he is testing my skill level. What a test it is. The rear 25% of the home has been damaged by a now missing pine tree which fell upon the roof and finally came to rest in the two end bedrooms. Wow what a mess. Not only is the damage bad but the resident had not cleaned out the contents of the rooms since the storm. I access the damage and determine it can be repaired. Maybe it is the Oregonian in me, why tear it all down if it can be repaired. This is a very different concept than people are used to here. The other building difference from Portland to here is that no materials are ever used again. The idea of reduce, reuse and recycle are foreign here. Just imagine all the materials left from the hurricane, all are headed for the landfill no matter if it is salvageable. The cost of rebuilding will be so great, in so many ways. A supply list for the easier repairs is made and we set a time to start on Thursday. Our group is looking forward to rolling up our sleeves and getting started.
Wednesday night we start working on my uncle’s house. I feel that I should do that after our commitment to habitat is over. Yes he would qualify for our assistance without being family, but since he is I feel strange about helping him before others. Nepotism can work against you sometimes. By the time I return to my other uncles it is 11:00 pm and I am exhausted. The nightly phone call home, which I so look forward to, is cut short by my falling asleep. I know I will sleep well for the next two weeks; the work ahead will be tiring physically and also emotionally.
Thursday morning arrives and I can not wake up. I meet the rest of the group at the Habitat site in Covington. We split up a few days ago. My Uncle Filmore made his truck available for me to use, this has allowed me to stay at his home in Mandeville. It is nice to spend time with him and it lessens the burden on the other members of my family. My family has been great about taking care of us by providing places to stay, by feeding us and by offering genuine hospitality. I am truly blessed. I know many people make fun of the south and the people who live here. Those who do have never really spent quality time here, or if someone makes fun it is because they have family ties to the area. I can poke fun because my last name is Chatellier and my family has been in Louisiana for over 200 years. Someone new to the area is viewed as being insulting if they were to poke fun.
The tasks at hand today are two: first I get a small group started on repairing the holes in Patricia’s roof. Falling trees punctures 5 holes in her roof and the wind tore off about one square of shingles. Two young men from the New Orleans mid-city habitat affiliate volunteer for roofing duty. They are great guys. I had not thought about the Americorp volunteers displaced by the storms. They could not return to their home towns and the safety of parents homes. They weathered the storms and are waiting to return to their flooded housing in the city. I was told by one that the entire Habitat warehouse in mid-city was under 6 ft of water after the storm and that all their tools were lost. He wondered how he and the rest of his group were going to help others when they could not even help themselves. Good question, maybe answers from Oregon in the form of donated tools? These guys sure don't have a lack of enthusiasm or skill. They each have. A meager tool belt, the power tools I leant them brought wide smiles. I’ll try and leave them with a few extra surprises when I leave. I always try to be prepared and on this trip I brought an extra air compressor, roofing stapler, ten cases of staples and a reciprocating saw donated by Eric Cannon. Oh Eric you are going to be so popular with these guys.
The second group started the gross task of cleaning out the rooms of the home where the roof was missing. It was really gross. We could smell a dead animal in the area but could not determine where it was. I prayed that as we removed the personal items of the homes owner that we would not find a body under the rubble. We did not but it was none the less disgusting. I am surprised at how the owner of the home had not begun to clean up after the storm. It had been nearly 50 days and yet nothing had been done. Poor housekeeping, or in ability to deal with the emotional aftermath of the storm; who knows. What I do know is that was some real gross stuff!!!! The first order of business was to brace up the remaining walls and ensure the utilities to the home were shut off. The bracing part was simple. Getting the owner to not turn the electrical breakers back on after I turned them off was tough. She was continuing to live in the home even while having a FEMA trailer in her yard. Again I can not begin to guess as to why. What I do know is that my crew can not be exposed to such dangers. When the bracing was complete the group of two men and 4 women tore into the damaged home. How can I describe the excitement when after 4 hours of bagging trash and pulling nails the remainder of the roof was pushed off. That felt good. Oh yea we are so tuff!! And yet...the fun continues, down go three walls. If the correct prep in done it only takes a little bit of pushing to topple the walls. Well a little bit of pushing by my 6'3'', 240 pound nephew. The crash no matter who did the pushing is still impressive. After 8 hours in the sun we are ready to go home and shower. I tell Margaret and Matt good bye and tell them I would see them first thing in the morning. I am so exhausted and tomorrow is less than 16 hours away. I feel as I’d I could not get enough sleep. By the time I get used to the heat it will be time to go home, bummer.
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