Our House is a Very, Very, Very Fine House

Hello Everyone, and Greetings From New Orleans,

Ann and I are here in NOLA finishing up our 18th trip. After spending 4 weeks working here in New Orleans with Rebuilding Together on a handful of homes for their annual October Build effort, we headed over to Biloxi, Mississippi last Sunday to join our compatriots from Kaiser Permanente. Kaiser comes to the Gulf South twice each year to continue their efforts to help the region recover from Hurricane Katrina, spending one week in New Orleans and one week in Biloxi.

Biloxi, while a lot smaller than New Orleans, was severely damaged by a huge storm surge that directly hit them. The city is situated on the shores of the Gulf of Mexico, and US 90, the highway running directly along the beach, used to be home to scores of antebellum homes that enjoyed spectacular views of the Gulf. The storm surge not only wiped out many of those structures, it continued onshore for dozens of blocks, instantly wiping out homes far from the beach. Biloxi's damage was much like what the Lower Ninth experienced here in New Orleans--instant, total destruction.

Just a few weeks before Katrina hit, the family we were working for had just moved into a home over one-half mile inland. The home was tossed off its foundation in an instant, broken in two, and deposited on the neighbor's property. Our single-mother's daughter was 6 years old at the time, and suffered tremendously in the emotional aftermath of the storm. She was convinced she would never be safe in her home again, if she ever had her own home again. Like thousands of kids in New Orleans, thunderstorms brought back terrifying fears of death and loss and lack of control. We were building a completely new home for them, now 9 feet in the air to meet the post-Katrina building codes, on that same property.

Kaiser's team bet the farm this time, choosing to participate in their first Blitz Build, where the goal is to build an entire home in one week. They not only brought 30 volunteers, they also purchased the building materials for the home. A major investment by John Edmiston and his people, as usual.

This project came to us through the Moore Community Center, a Methodist-operated project that provides child care and other services to families in need in Biloxi. Awhile back, the good people at Moore realized that a lot of the moms they were providing child care services for would benefit from training opportunities that would lift them economically. They began the Women in Construction program, which provides free training in the construction trades to 10 or so women at a time. This project was anchored by them, and we were honored to work alongside these super-determined people throughout the week.

The majority of our volunteers come with very little construction experience, and are propelled instead by the size of their hearts and their determination to achieve whatever goals are set out for them. In the process, everyone gains skills and confidence in abilities they did not have at the beginning. Ann and I are familiar with Blitz Builds, made famous by Habitat for Humanity, but we've never participated in one. She and I and most of our Kaiser volunteers approached this week with cheerful optimism, propped up by this romantic exciting notion that this week would be magic and made-for-TV-movie-like. You know--a challenge here or there, a hangnail and a bruise for a few of us, but then, right before the credits roll, the home is somehow finished, with plenty of time to spare for showers, meals, drinks and laughs in between.

Yeah--just like that. Uh huh. It turns out that some editing takes place before that one hour show airs. Our week included the footage that never makes it to air.

Pollyanna was a no-show on Monday morning. We were scheduled to roll at 6:30 am, met quickly with our lead contractor at 6:45, started work at 7 am, and worked like whipped dogs until 7 pm.

The pros erected the 9-foot raised foundation prior to our arrival, and our work began with that and the floor in place, with a large inventory of lumber right next to it. We immediately split into several teams. One team climbed ladders onto the deck to frame the house, one team set about to paint all of the exterior trim and siding prior to installation, and Ann and I were asked to lead teams assigned to build the front and back stairs and porches. We were also asked to get them completely finished in one day, two days max. One minute after we'd met our bosses and been given our assignment, I felt a bit like I was in that recurring dream where I show up at my college final exam and realize I had never read the textbook or even attended the class.

The butterflies dissipated pretty quickly though, as the urgency set in and it became clear that it was indeed up to our team to build those porches and stairs, and to do it quickly and correctly. We split up, and Ann assembled a team to teach them how to cut stair stringers that fit while she simultaneously tried to figure out just where the posts that would hold up the switchback porch, steps and the upper landing were supposed to go so the holes could be dug and the posts could be set. My team had the easy job of the two, needing only to get going building two decks.

I felt a little bit bad that I got assigned to the deck team and Ann got the stair responsibility. I can't do stairs, and Ann does them beautifully. Stairs are much more work than decks, and I don't have the confidence that I could make them happen, and I was guiltily grateful that Ann had the job instead of me.

Reality began to set in for all of us as Monday turned dark. During the day, the framing team got all of the exterior walls and most of the interior walls up. Painting proceeded apace, despite the lack of real estate to stage painted boards while they dried. Ann trained two women to mark and cut stair stingers, and their work was impeccable. The porch deck team erected the frame of the back porch, and cut the joists. But, despite our sucker's notion that it wouldn't get dark before we decided it should, it did indeed get dark, the mosquitoes got mean, and at 7pm it was time to go. We trudged home, buoyed up by the shape of an actual home, held down by the weight of tasks unaccomplished, and now tempered by the reality that this is how the week was going to go.

On Tuesday, our goals were to finish the framing, install the roof trusses, sheet the roof in preparation for shingles, finish the front and back porches, finish the back stairs and prepare the front for stairs, and complete the painting. We did part of that, and then, go figure, it got dark again. Ann assembled a small team to stay late to site and dig the final holes for the posts that would hold up the back steps, and pour the concrete so those final posts would be ready by morning. Ann's team left for home at 8:30 that evening, and it occurred to us then that, by God, we were going to get our work done come hell or high water. Joaquin, John, Ann, and I left dead tired, but happily agreed on that fact.

Pizza, beers, a quick shower at 11 pm, then crash to bed and up again at 5 am. When we got to the work site on Wednesday morning, Ann's team kicked ass and those two extra hours we spent the night before paid big dividends, as her team quickly erected the switchback platform, installed the stair stringers, and bam! The back stairs were up. It was a moment for the entire group not unlike when the rest of us watched the framing team tilt up the walls on Monday. The day went like that--the porch team finished the back porch and installed the rail, the truss team got the roof trusses completed and began sheeting the roof, windows were installed, and at the end of the day the place looked like a house. We moved to the front to knock out the front porch, and got it all framed and ready to deck. Now it felt to us emotionally like we were really rolling. You could feel the momentum building as our collective confidence lifted us. By now, rookies were veterans, and the teams had subdivided into sub-teams, with new leaders taking on tasks that freed the other leaders to look forward and figure out how to move the big picture ahead. Wednesday ended with a shrimp boil and beers on the beach near our bunkhouse, hosted by our homeowner and her family and friends.

On Thursday, we rocked. We got all of the posts for the front stairs dug and poured and set, we finished the front porch and got the rail going, the siding was being installed at a furious clip, and the roof sheeting was completed. After darkness fell, we rushed back for a quick shower and a night out together. Only the adrenaline and our shared satisfaction about our progress fueled us that night, but we set off to finally be together for some eating and drinking and laughing that set the table for our final day on site.

On Friday, everyone decided to leave for work early so as to get started as soon as possible. We rolled at 5:30 or so, and set up our tools, power, and air in the dark. At the first sign of light, everyone dove in. Ann's team and my team came together to make use of our new skills to wrap up our projects. Joaquin, Katherine, Rosemary, Christine, Jackie, Michelle, Tanya, Susan and others all meshed so well that by then we knew each others' moves and needs that we were handing tools back and forth before they were requested. Sue Giboney, our longtime pal from the first project we worked on with Kaiser volunteers, and now a valuable team leader, joined us on Friday after completing her framing work, and she and Jackie Jones, our other longtime team leader and pal, led the rail team far beyond where they thought they could go. The rails on the back were completely finished, and the front rails were as complete as they could be considering I couldn't finish installing the posts in the time allotted. In addition, the front stairs were framed, the switchback was erected, and the stair treads were being installed. The roof team completed half of the shingles. The siding was completed, and the doors were installed. Insulation was installed inside. At night during the week, professional plumbers and electricians did their work after we left. At 4:30 on Friday afternoon, we stopped for a ceremony to present the home to Jana and her daughter Mia, and to collectively celebrate our accomplishment. Two seconds after the ceremony, everyone rushed back to their work stations to continue, trying to beat sunset. At the end of the day, that empty, bare floor deck we woke up to on Monday morning had been replaced by an honest-to-God home. It wasn't ready to move into, but the table is not only set, the meal has been served, and dessert is on its way. And our Women in Construction compatriots will see it through.

And just like that, it was over. 62 hours of work, sun-up to sundown, 5 days, see-through coffee and powdered eggs, showers at 10 pm, reveille at 5 am. At the end, we'd done 5 weeks of normal construction work. And we wished we'd been able to do more.


Lessons Learned

Now that we've been through a Blitz Build, I think it's imperative that we now do it again, and the sooner the better. This past week, while still a blur, will present some very useful lessons on how to do it so much better the next time. That is not to say that we didn't do it really well this time (we did), but by going through this process having been thrown into it, we've learned a lot of tricks that make us ready to do it again, and even better than we did it last week.

An interesting irony of this past week was that, even though this was the first time all Kaiser Permanente volunteers worked together on the same site the entire week (as opposed to previous trips, where teams of volunteers were deployed on different projects in different locations), we probably did less collective bonding than we have in the past. The super-fast pace of the week caused all of the teams to focus so sharply on their specific tasks (and for so many hours of the day) that little time was left over for the bonding that takes place separate from the task. Conversely, the teams that did form to accomplish their specific tasks bonded up quickly. It's not that one way is better than another so much as it's simply the reality of the pace of the work. Turns out that Blitz Builds aren't like going to the prom. Our experience was more like thinking you were going to the prom, and then being told when you showed up that you were instead participating in an Ironman triathlon.

Ann and I have long said that the best volunteer efforts involved doing the work and teaching the work. Our mantra has been that, once you've learned a new task, the imperative was to teach the new skill to two other people, and to pass that ethic on to those we work with. In that way you'd grow the effort and leverage your skills. This past week, there was so much that could be taught, and so little time in which to teach it. The desire to accomplish the actual goal of moving a family into their home was, and rightfully so, the primary focus. The compressed timeline left little time to break down the work into discrete tasks that could be taught and passed on. We all did what we could, and our teams deserve a lot of credit for simply absorbing what they observed and participated in, but I hope we can do more next time. One element that apparently was taught very well was the language of the construction site. One of our very valuable team members, who will now go nameless in case she'd rather not see her name applied to this illustration, was hauling very heavy lumber to the saw to be cut. After a very strenuous afternoon of hustling 6 x 6 pressure-treated posts across the lot to the saw, she remarked to no one in particular, "These motherfuckers are heavy!" Lesson taken. I take full credit for it. And I'm proud of her for it. Do it. Teach it. Tell it.

John Edmiston and his team at Kaiser picked this job, taking it on faith that somehow we could all get this job done. The choice says everything about how much they care and how much they wish to accomplish. The faithful ambition John embraced reminded us so precisely of the early work that Hands On New Orleans took on. I think what happened last week raised the bar so high that Ann and I are excited to see what it translates into when Kaiser makes their next trip to New Orleans next April.

The final lesson we learned is that intense work on behalf of others makes for lasting friendships. This isn't news to us, but last week illustrated to us that a rapid, intense pace accelerates the bonding process. At our first group meeting last Sunday night, when no one knew anyone else and everyone introduced themselves to the group, I told them that by the end of the week, someone I didn't yet know would be exchanging phone numbers and email addresses with me so we could stay in touch. Of course that turned out to be true, and my circle is a bit wider and richer today. Joaquin, Katherine, Carl and Jim are just four of the people I am now honored to call friends. I know I'll see them all again.

Because I am so succinct, I'll close now by saying this: Last week was the most intense, most difficult, most problematic, most stressful, most tiring week Ann and I have had in the 18 months we've spent down here after the storm. And the most satisfying.

Ann and I send out our endless love to Lana Corll, our host for so many of our stays in New Orleans. She not only opens her home to us, she also tosses us the keys to her truck. Her generosity makes it possible for us to continue our trips to New Orleans, and her friendship makes our time in New Orleans feel like we are home. Thanks a lot, Lana.


My Love to All,

David/Dad

Take These Broken Wings and Learn to Fly

 
Hello Everyone, and Greetings from New Orleans,

Ann and I have made two trips to New Orleans since we last wrote you in April of 2011.  We spent February here to celebrate and enjoy Mardi Gras with our pals down here, and then went to work immediately after that with Rebuilding Together New Orleans to work on Miss Ruby's home in a far corner of the Hollygrove neighborhood.  Hollygrove is a section of New Orleans immediately east of the 17th Street Canal, and many homes took lots of water from the storm surge that stormed up the canal from Lake Ponchartrain.  We helped install siding on her home, and made it ready for paint to be applied by a Spring Break group of college students who arrived right after we left.

Ann went home a few days before I did, and Kelsey was able to make it after that for her third trip to volunteer.  Kelsey was a pro from the beginning, gutting a large home with me on her first trip in March of 2007.  Kelsey and I got to prepare a large home on Gravier Street for exterior paint, supplied the following week by Spring Break college kids.  We also discovered the joys of a shrimp po' boy at the Coye Food Store in the heart of the bleakest section of the Hollygrove.  It felt good to do business with a local business in an area that still needs so much help.  The woman who ran the kitchen in the back of the store made a mean sandwich for us, and we've returned a few times since.

Ann and I spent most of March in Olympia without unpacking.  I flew back to NOLA on April 5th, and Ann joined me on the 10th.  We joined up with Rebuilding Together New Orleans right away and worked on a few homes in the final stages of rebuilding.  It has been a great pleasure for us to work on projects that are nearly finished.  When we come to NOLA to work, we get plugged into whatever is going on at the time.  This trip, we were able to work on homes that were nearly finished.  That is a guilty pleasure.  To be able to punch-list a home is a privilege we aren't often given, and it's a rare treat to back out of a home for the last time to make way for a homeowner to return.

Chinese Drywall

The first home Ann and I worked on was one of Rebuilding Together's 51 Chinese Drywall homes.  After Katrina, the Southeast Region ran short of most building supplies, including drywall.  To meet the huge demand that couldn't be met in time with American-made drywall, suppliers imported tons of Chinese-made drywall, and for-profit and not-for-profit organizations alike purchased and installed it.  Rebuilding Together alone used it in 51 of their rebuilds.  The product turned out to be tainted with contaminants that off-gassed toxic fumes, corroding copper wiring and plumbing, ruining electronic components like TVs and microwaves, and making residents sick, driving them from their rebuilt homes.  After the storm, after insurance companies ignored claims, after two years in a FEMA trailer, after finding organizations like Rebuilding Together to come and help, after moving back into a newly-restored home, after all of that--they were forced to vacate their home so it could be gutted completely again, and rebuilt completely again.  Each rebuild takes several months to complete.

What else could happen to these folks?

Rebuilding Together, Habitat for Humanity, Operation Helping Hands, and other organizations all chose to do the only thing they felt they could do--they committed to rebuilding each and every home at their expense.  Doing so took down Operation Helping Hands, who, following the remediation work, shut down, exhausted and broke.  Rebuilding Together estimates the cost of each rebuild to exceed $40,000.

One of the Chinese drywall manufacturers, Knauf Plasterboard Tianjin, has entered into a settlement that will provide some assistance to homeowners who can prove their product was used.  Other Chinese manufacturers, because they are not subject to US jurisdiction, have simply ignored the lawsuits.  Makes you wonder about the benefits of globalization, doesn't it?  I mean, if foreign manufacturers are entitled by treaty and law to sell their products in our market, where is the reciprocity if their products cause us harm?

Our Work

We spent a bunch of time at Miss Audrey's home on Spruce Street in the Hollygrove.  Miss Audrey's son suffered a massive stroke, and is now confined to a motorized wheelchair.  Ann and I had one of those "Aha!" moments at her home when the work was described for us.  Miss Audrey's home is a solid single shotgun home, in pretty good shape, but when a wheelchair is added to the equation, the level of the floors becomes very apparent.  Between the back bedroom, where Miss Audrey's son lives, is a bathroom/laundry room that he has to pass through to make it out the side door to his wheelchair ramp.  That room was the place where all of the imperfections of the floors came together.  The foundation had sagged, and her son could no longer traverse the floors with his wheelchair without Miss Audrey's help.  Miss Audrey is several sizes smaller, and a number of years older than her son..

Our Rebuilding Together's boss' plan was to build a small ramp to get Miss Audrey's son from his bedroom to the bathroom/laundry room level (several abrupt inches below his bedroom).  While we took a small break Ann and I were sitting on the floor and it came to us: the span from the edge of the bedroom level to just a few feet inside the bathroom level, WAS LEVEL.  In other words, right there at the transition was a foundation sag that had added the drop between the rooms.  Instead of building a ramp that acknowledged the sag, if we pulled up just a few square feet of floor, fixed the joists underneath, then installed new subfloor and tiles, voila!  We'd have a level floor he could pass through on his own, without Miss Audrey's assistance.  After proving our discovery, we all went to work on what turned out to be a really great solution, leaving all of us pleased with the outcome.  Several times, Miss Audrey showed us her love with her wonderful lunches.  Lunches we've been served so often during our time down here in New Orleans, lunches we've long referred to as Sunday Dinner.

Ann has become the Tile Master on any Rebuilding Together team she is a member of.  In fact, she is assigned to RT teams based often on the need for someone to do and teach tiling.  On this trip, she worked on four consecutive tiling jobs, each time adding her skilled touch and her desire to teach others.  Prior to Miss Audrey's job, she hid my errors and finished a bathroom tub surround at the project in the Lower Ninth I was working on before she arrived.  She finished that one beautifully, moved on to Miss Audrey's floor, then was sent to Miss Hazel's home in Gentilly.  Again, the subfloor there had a transition to the next room, which our RT team removed prior to Ann's arrival.  Ann then set new tile on the entire bathroom floor, and another old problem for a homeowner was removed.

After three very productive weeks working for Rebuilding Together, Ann and I switched gears and joined our pals, old and new, from Kaiser Permanente.  You may remember our earlier work with Kaiser Permanente back in January of 2008 (See "A Perfect Job With a Perfect Team") and last April (see "Praise for Jobs Well Done").  Kaiser has been sending teams to the Gulf Coast to help rebuild every year since Katrina, and, while each year includes a new group of first-time volunteers, each year also includes a very happy reunion with a core group of volunteers who now come on their own dime to join the effort.  Between these now-named Repeat Offenders (a very apt name for a very lively group), the Project Leaders (who were volunteers the previous year and were chosen as official team leads based upon the success of their earlier experience and the size of their hearts), and the new volunteers, this group of very special people came together in New Orleans to throw themselves into the most challenging projects they can get HandsOn New Orleans to throw at them.  They honor us by including us in their work and the fun that takes place after work.

Ann and I were asked to help with the team KP sent to Miss Doris Johnson's home in Gentilly.  Miss Doris' home took 4 feet of water when the floodwalls on the London Avenue Canal failed.  We came to help Miss Doris because she'd given all of her money to a contractor that not only failed to finish, but returned to sever the wiring above her new electrical panel when she refused to give them more money than the deal called for.  Our team set to making her second floor livable for her granddaughter and great-grandchildren.  Ann, Teri and Lisa went to work on the bathroom tile, and the rest of us went to work in the other rooms, dead set on finishing and/or fixing walls and trim.  Her kitchen and laundry room had been drywalled, but not mudded or taped.  In the other rooms, we removed and replaced battered paneling, rotten or missing trim, and then completely repainted walls and trim.  At the end of our three days there, the place was ready for the electricians to finish their work.  We arrived at Miss Doris' home a group of strangers, and left a team of friends.



On Wednesday afternoon, John Edmiston, the KP leader and heart-and-soul of this on-going KP effort here in NOLA, arranged for all members of the group to come together at Success Preparatory Academy, a charter school here in NOLA.  At John's direction, KP purchased 40 new Specialized brand bikes of various sizes.  Each teacher selected 2 students that best epitomized the spirit of effort, determination, and commitment that Success Prep seeks to instill in every student, and those students then joined their parents for a ceremony where they were awarded one of those bikes.  We all got to spend the afternoon in small teams assembling all of these bikes, and KP volunteers were then each individually paired up with a student and his/her parents to select the bike, get a helmet and lock, and go outside to try the bike out, get pictures taken, and generally bask in the praise bestowed on them by all of us.  It was an incredibly fun afternoon for all of us, and one I'm pretty sure won't soon be forgotten by those smiling kids.

We followed up that Wednesday with a wee bit of karaoke at Kajun's Pub on St. Claude Avenue.  I went by Kajun's later that week to thank them again for their hospitality, and told them I hoped our beverage bill helped pay the rent for the month.  "Oh, yeah, it did that, alright", was the bartender's reply.  Those KP folks know how to light up a room.

Finally, on Friday, John arranged for all 4 of our KP work crews to come together one last time to work on a community garden being built in the Holy Cross neighborhood in the Lower Ninth.  The garden sits on a side lot next to the home of Miss Arletta Pittman, and she had dedicated it to the senior citizens of her neighborhood.  As we had become accustomed to doing throughout the week, the team all found their individual tasks and set about to accomplish the whole project in one very warm day.  Even though it was Friday, the last of their 5 workdays, and even though it hit 90 degrees and was pretty humid, the team seemed stronger and more full of energy than ever before.  By then, all of these strangers had become friends, and the day breezed by in gales of laughter, sweat, and dirt.  Then, with a final goodbye dinner that evening, where we all got to say a bit about what we'd seen and done, and talk about the people we'd met, it was over.  A very fine week with a very tight group of talented, good-hearted, and very hard working folks.  And now the circle expands to include all the new folks, now veterans.

These past few trips have included a bit of a Magical Mystery Tour for me.  Added to all of the work and the fun and the NOLA friends we've made along the way, I've experienced this accompanying nostalgia for the early days of our work here in New Orleans.  Every job we've worked on has included this alternate reality for me, where I remember so well our earlier work for homeowners long since returned home, work accomplished alongside volunteers and dear friends no longer with us in New Orleans, 4 minute showers (OK, 8 minute showers when shared with Ann) in our outdoor showers at our beloved and only true bunkhouse on First and Dryades, and community meals and after-meal beers at Igor's with some of the finest people I'll ever know.  Working alongside our friends from Kaiser Permanente opens these floodgates of memories for me.   All the while, I'm so nostalgic for the early days of urgent work, managed by the original Hands On construction staff--Nic, Bri, Amy, and others, and executed by long-term volunteers--Reggie, Chandra, Sean, Eric, Liz, Caliopie, Bill, and so many others, set to the background music of zero creature comforts, little personal space, and even less quiet time.  That said, we all give thanks for how much better life is for many New Orleanians now, and we keep plugging away on the homes still left to fix.

Happily, our NOLA reality now is based upon the incredible generosity of Lana Corll, our hostess and benefactor, who so graciously opens her home to us, gives us a wonderful space to live in, allows us to store our tools and work clothes in her home, tosses us the keys to her truck, and does nothing short of making our continued trips to New Orleans possible.  This new reality is a wonderful one, indeed, and includes unlimited shower time, cold beers an arms-length away, plenty of New Orleans charm and hospitality, and more creature comforts than we have any right to enjoy.  Buzzing joyfully in the background is the happiness and satisfaction we, both volunteers and homeowners, have in our hearts and our memories for those early days when we counted on each other so fiercely and helped each other in ways we hadn't always expected.

My Love to All,

David/Dad

Praise For Jobs Well Done

We’re home from trip 15. It was short but filled with fun and work.

We started our trip with a great party- the Grant and Associates 16^th Annual Crawfish Boil. They cooked 1200lbs of crawfish. 1200lbs! They were fat, spicy and delicious. On Friday we attended the ordination of our friend Lance Eden. It was a nice evening and we got to meet many of The Rev’s friends and family. It was also a chance to fulfill my need to make and wear a really BIG hat.

Our work projects were to help build 2 wheelchair ramps with our friends from Kaiser Permanente. One ramp was for a community space in the Holy Cross neighborhood and the other one was for Mr. and Mrs. Sims. It was a great reunion of old friends and a chance to make new friends. Kaiser always brings their A Game. Since we only had a few days to get our work done Dave and I had to split up. We love to work together but it was a chance to share our experience with 2 teams.

I worked with 6 KP volunteers on the ramp in the Holy Cross. We had 4 days to complete our ramp. It was a great team and a fun build. The ramp had a 29-inch drop so that meant a 29 ft. ramp with a switch-back. We had a slow start because of generator problems but it gave us a chance to stain the 500 balusters and break concrete out of the ramp’s path. We worked hard and got the job done. The Holy Cross neighborhood is in the Lower 9^th. There is only one place to get food- a small corner market that also has hot food. There we found the biggest, cheapest po’boy I’ve seen- a 32 inch shrimp for $11.95.

David worked with a Kaiser team that built the ramp for the Sims.They built a long straight ramp in only 3 days. They fell in love with the Sims family and got that great feeling of helping someone who really appreciates the help. They also built a greenhouse for the Hollygrove community garden.

The whole Kaiser group came together on Friday to work on several projects for Success Preparatory Academy. This was Kaiser Permanente’s 5^th trip to help rebuild- both in New Orleans and Mississippi. They always bring a great group of enthusiastic and FUN volunteers. This group was no exception.

check out their web site:

http://info.kp.org/communitybenefit/html/get_involved/global/gulf/index.html

We were happy to see some of our friends we met when we worked with Kaiser in 2008. One of the many wonderful things about volunteering is the friends you make. We have lifetime friends that we have met working to rebuild New Orleans. One of those people is Lana Corll. She is our great friend who always makes us feel very welcome in her home. Not only does she provide us a wonderful place to stay in New Orleans, she lets us use her truck AND she generously hosts parties at her home for our fellow volunteers.

Without the help of volunteers like our friends from Kaiser, many people would not have been able to return to their homes in New Orleans.

Kaiser says ALOHA to New Orleans.

thanks,

Ann

Sign, Sign, Everywhere a Sign.

Hello Everyone, and Greetings from New Orleans,

Ann and I arrived for our 13th trip to our adopted hometown on August 18th. We came to help Rebuilding Together execute their 50 For 5 project to commemorate the 5th Anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. Their project encompassed 50 homes in the Gentilly neighborhood, which is located immediately west of the Industrial Canal that destroyed the Lower Ninth Ward. Curiously, the Industrial Canal did very little damage to Gentilly. The flooding that destroyed large portions of Gentilly came from the London Avenue Canal to the west. The water in many areas of Gentilly was 10-12 feet high, and the destruction, while not as explosive as that done to the Lower Ninth, was every bit as total in many areas.

We got to lead a project to help finish the rebuild of Mr. Enox Ragland's home. He purchased his Pauline Street home in March of 2005, just in time to get ready for the floodwaters to top his roof. 5 years later, we helped finish the siding, apply paint, build a porch and stairs, and tile his kitchen counters and bedroom floor, all while he lives in his small, unfinished home.

The 50 For 5 Project is the largest ever undertaken by Rebuilding Together, and included volunteers from Rebuilding Together affiliates around the country. A number of very generous corporate sponsors participated, and the project was showered with a lot of media attention, which was especially useful, given that we are 5 years past the storm with years of work still to go. Ann and I are grateful for the work Rebuilding Together New Orleans continues to do, and we are really happy we have such a great organization to plug ourselves into when we come to work.

Coming to work here in the late summer, as we've done three times, is a great opportunity to not only reflect and remember the damage and the loss caused by the storm, it's a first-hand chance to live with the same insufferable heat and humidity that thousands of New Orleanians had to live with in the aftermath of the storm. We think we are suffering until we pause to remember that they lived with it on their roofs, and in the Superdome, and on top of Interstate 10, and many did it without food, water, or necessary medicine. These people are tough.

Progress

Over the four years Ann and I have been coming to work here, a common theme has been how much needs to be done vs. how much IS done. The corollary of that theme, of course, is always how much ISN'T done. On this trip, we reflected quite a bit about what we've seen, and how now compares to then. Every individual story has its own nuance, of course, and for every step forward for someone, someone else has a story of being left behind.

Despite injustices and sorrows that can be witnessed and mourned, though, progress is being made here. We looked for milestones, for signposts that illustrate movement, even grudging movement, forward. Here are a few of those stories.

That House on Jackson Street

On our very first day here in September of 2006, as our van returned to the Bunkhouse, we passed a home on Jackson street that was nearly completely destroyed. A metal spiral staircase hung from the front of the home, but was no longer connected to the second-story balcony because the balcony was badly damaged. Out front, a sign proclaimed "I AM Coming Home. I WILL Rebuild." That statement, to me, was one made more of faith than cold-eyed reality. In March, when I returned for my second trip, the home had been partially destroyed by a fire, not an uncommon occurrence in abandoned structures here. The sign remained, as did the metal spiral staircase, which was now connected only to its concrete pad because the second-story balcony was now, well, gone. It seemed like a good breeze would finish this home off. One year later, we saw signs of life. A temporary power pole and meter arrived. Siding disappeared from one wall, and new framing appeared. As we came back for each new trip, this home rose from certain ashes, and now is nearly ready for occupancy.



Carrollton Street

When you look at the picture below, try to figure out why I took it. It looks like a street scene you could see anywhere. And that's exactly what it is, except for the fact that it didn't look at all like this a year ago.

It's the street itself. Newly paved, actually smooth, wheelchair cut-outs at the corners, striped, including a bike lane. Until it was completely torn up and rebuilt last year, it was a boulevard to be reckoned with. The pavement was dangerously interrupted by sinkholes and leaking water lines. The sidewalks were unlike any I have seen in this country, nearly impassable for the bodily-able, impossible for anyone with even a minor physical disability. And we took it for granted. This public works project was a long time coming, and it is, to me, a sign that perhaps, finally, maybe, possibly, the City has figured out how to deliver on one of its fundamental responsibilities to its citizens. New Mayor Mitch Landrieu may not have been in office long enough to be responsible for any of the Carrollton Street project, but it sure got completed at a time that extended his mayoral honeymoon and put the Ray Nagin hangover a bit further back in our memories.



Our Own Truth and Reconciliation Committee

For over a year after the failure of the floodwalls damaged or ruined 80% of the homes in New Orleans, the Army Corps of Engineers stonewalled, obfuscated, or lied (pick your position--there are really only about three to choose from), then finally fessed up to inferior work on floodwalls and levees our tax dollars purchased to protect the city and its people. Levees.org was formed with the mission to hold the Corps accountable and to tell the truth about why and how New Orleans was nearly destroyed. Katrina largely bypassed New Orleans proper. Storm surges lifted and removed floodwalls that were not built to the Corps' stated standards. These floodwalls were designed to withstand surges in excess of those that Katrina delivered.

As part of their work, the Levees.org folks sought official recognition and admission of responsibility. Further, they worked to ensure that the true story would be told to future generations. Ann and I got to attend the ceremony at which the official historical marker was unveiled at the site of a catastrophic failure on the 17th Street Canal Floodwall. To many, this effort may seem to be tilting at windmills, an insignificant little marker telling us what we already knew. But, that marker is a government marker, established by the state to tell all of us, presumably in perpetuity, what happened there, and why. And it belongs to all of us.



The Projects

Several of the public housing projects in New Orleans are now, finally, in the process of redevelopment. And not without a lot of controversy. Like every large American city, these projects engender strong opinions. After Katrina, they were closed, and people were not allowed to return to them, even to those buildings that sustained very little damage. And there they sat, empty reminders of both the failed ideas that spawned them in the first place and the sorrows of thousands of good, if poor, fellow human beings who lost their homes.

The new thinking is to redevelop these properties into mixed-income apartments, with some units reserved for public housing, some with rent subsidies for limited-income people, and some for market-rate housing. Streets were daylighted through the properties, reconnecting them with the neighborhoods they belong to, amenities like swimming pools were added, and new buildings replaced most of the old.

I don't know enough about this issue and the policies and realities that surround it to say anything more that this: they look great, they represent a physical improvement to the area, and I hope they lead to greater dignity, less human warehousing, and a brighter future for all who live there. They by no means solve every problem for those who lived there before. Indeed, the number of units available to public-housing clients is nowhere nearly equal to the number available before the storm. Further, the designs themselves seem to have come without much input from former inhabitants, or even from any New Orleanians, if only evidenced by the lack of front porches on many units. Front porches are the social center of many neighborhoods in this city, and they seem to have been left out of these new designs not out of malevolence but out of ignorance. Nevertheless, units are opening, and people are coming home. Welcome home.





The Hollygrove Market and Farm

Throughout the City, vacant lots and blighted properties dot nearly every neighborhood. One of the great challenges facing the people of New Orleans is what to do with them, and who should do it. Dedicated organizations and people are busy teaching citizens how to turn vacant properties into community gardens. With the help of people like Macon Fry, who used to help run Parkway Partners and now works with organizations like Hollygrove Market and Farm, people are learning how to start and operate their own neighborhood gardens. Macon handled the delivery and distribution of over 3,500 pounds of vegetable and flower seeds that have been donated by the Ed Hume Seed Company over the past three years, and that effort continues. When you see a community garden, you not only see a formerly blighted property that is now beautiful, you also see neighbors of all ages and races, working happily together on their project. It's one of those sights that universally raises a smile. There's a lot of vacant property in this city, and I think Macon will take a day off just as soon as it's all put to productive use.



The Falstaff Brewery Apartments

Back in the day, the good people of Falstaff Brewing made thousands and thousands of gallons of watery 3.2% beer for thirsty workers and high school kids nationwide. Their old brewery sits in Mid City, and until recently was a hulking, abandoned shell. It has now been renovated and converted into apartments, kind of a mini Pearl District of its own in the midst of a recovering Mid City. I cite this as a sign of progress because I had no idea this much private capital could be accumulated to undertake such a massive project to provide concentrated market-rate housing in New Orleans. By itself, it's a sign to me that demand of a normal kind is returning. It's a joy to see such a great building return to productive use, especially now that new NOLA Brewing is in New Orleans, making much better beer than Falstaff ever did.



So, you see, things are happening. Not always in the order we'd like to see, and certainly not always to the benefit of those New Orleanians still scattered around the country, wishing they could return home but having no legitimate prospect of doing so anytime soon. But progress begets progress, and the winds that are blowing through New Orleans these days by tireless people like Davida Finger, Macon Fry, and countless others who are doing something magnificent every day as they bang away on their nearly-destroyed homes give me hope that maybe, just maybe, we were right about it taking just 10 years to rebuild.

My Love to All,

David/Dad

The Song Remains the Same

Hello Everyone, and Greetings From New Orleans,

Figuratively, I've been sitting here at this screen for the past 5 months, staring at the salutation, trying to find the inspiration to write. Ann and I were here in New Orleans last fall, and I just had nothing to tell you that I hadn't told you many times before. Rather than phoning-in something just to say I'd written to you, I just put it away. I feel badly about that, because even though the story may have become a bit repetitive when I try to write it, that's only because I'm not very good at this.

Here we are, 4-1/2 years past the storm, and 61,000 homes are still officially blighted. If anything, the story here is more urgent and compelling now. Yes, the debris piles are pretty much gone. Yes, a lot of rebuilding has occurred, and many families have come home and life has returned to normal for them. But as you see how much work is left to do all over the city, it becomes clear that time has played a cruel trick on us. It has become so normal to see homes that are not rebuilt that it's sometimes difficult to notice them as the tragedies and sorrow each of them represent. We should be shocked when we see them, but they are so omnipresent that our brains have reserved a place for them in the space where we remember things as they are, and they are no longer unexpected or out-of-place.


On this, our twelfth trip, Ann and I got to work on the home of Miss Denise Henry. Miss Henry's Banks Street home is a double shotgun that prior to Katrina was home to Miss Henry, her brother, daughter, and granddaughter. The area took nearly 10 feet of water from the 17th Street Canal breech. The family escaped initially to the Astrodome in Houston, and then on to San Antonio for a longer stay. Miss Henry successfully navigated the Road Home path, and used that money in addition to insurance proceeds and savings to hire a contractor, who did not do the work and ran off with the money. Rebuilding Together took on her project, and when Ann, Bill Goslin and I showed up to work, the house was approaching the final stages of construction. Bill went to work rebuilding the back entrance to her home, sealing up holes in the framing and sheeting, re-hanging the back door, and building a new soffit above the back door. Ann and I worked inside. Ann got to work with some of the new leaders, showing them how to lay ceramic tile, this time in a very tiny, not square shower that was shoe-horned in under the stairs. Ann and I got to do odd jobs upstairs, hanging and trimming doors, plugging holes in the walls and floor, and building custom trim in the bathroom. The Rebuilding Together team, as always, was organized and determined. By the time we finished our time there, the home was much closer to completion.

One afternoon, Bill, Ann and I drove out to the Bayou to visit the home of Mr. Ted White, who is a client of Davida Finger at the Loyola Legal Aid Clinic. Mr. White had a very leaky roof with no apparent leaky spot. We searched the roof and found several possible points of entry, and plugged them with a very effective roof patching material. After the first serious rain, Mr. White reported that the leak had all but stopped. We weren't very happy to hear that there is still a small leak somewhere, but short of stripping the roof off and replacing it entirely, we shot all our ammo doing our patch job. It's 99% better, anyway, and we did what we could.

One of our great March pleasures has been that we typically run into the students who come annually from The Juilliard School in New York. During my first March trip 3 years ago, I got to work with these gifted and huge-hearted people, and they bring me joy every time I see them. This year was especially great because one of my 2007 team members, Meredith Lustig, was back as a Masters student and mentor to this year's group. Meredith and I got to frame the bathroom walls at Miss Peggy Severe's home in the Hollygrove, and we had a great time doing it. That group was and is very special to me, and Meredith's million-watt smile took me back to that great week we all spent together.

The Saints won the Super Bowl while we were there, and the City was awash in joy. No cars were tipped over and burned, and crime virtually disappeared for a day or two as people celebrated. I heard more than a few commentators boil the Saints' win down by saying, "Now, finally, Hurricane Katrina is behind New Orleans, and life can go on."

Oh, were it so easy. But, the Saints did provide an incredible amount of happiness to a City that sure could use it. It was a great pleasure for us to be here for the game and the celebration that followed.

In the midst of all the rebuilding, there are people all over the City who go about their daily business of trying to make their neighborhoods and the lives of the people who inhabit them better. One such person is Reverend Lance Eden, who recently left the First Street United Methodist Church to start his own independent congregation in Central City. First Street was the site of our beloved bunkhouse, which was home to thousands of us volunteers over the course of nearly two years. The Rev was assigned to First Street only two months prior to Katrina. It was his first assignment following his ordination. Following Katrina, The Methodist Church hierarchy offered him another parish, outside New Orleans and away from the damage of Katrina. The Rev said no thank you, and went about cleaning the church and serving the people of Central City. Nic and Bri and others showed up from distant cities, armed with water, blankets and other supplies for people in need. Between them and the Rev, a partnership was born that spawned Hands On New Orleans. The Rev talked his superiors into converting the church's Social Hall into the Hands On bunkhouse, and for the next two years, we volunteers called it home, 100 volunteers at a time. Reverend Eden made it our home with his commitment to his congregation and to his neighbors in Central City. In doing so, he performed a loving and generous service to those we were able to help. He also performed an equally-loving and equally-generous service to those of us who came to help. His example and tireless efforts on behalf of his people set the table for us volunteers to share the lives and joys and sorrows of what became our neighbors, our friends, our families away from home. Every single person who has come and labored here knows exactly what I am talking about.

And now we have a chance to help the Rev, our Rev, take the next step for his people and for Central City. His new, non-denominational congregation has begun a Building Fund to help them find and acquire a small church building of their own. At this time, they are borrowing space from a small Baptist church which has generously allowed the Rev to temporarily set up shop. Through their own efforts, they have already banked $10,000 toward this goal. They need $50,000 in the bank to establish their bona fides as a serious, if young, congregation. That number is thought to be sufficient to post as a down-payment on a piece of Central City property, hopefully with some structure already on it suitable for developing into their Church and other future structures that would help them live their mission of service to the poor people of Central City. Their goal is to raise this amount by the 1st Anniversary of their founding, which will occur in August of this year. They are already organized as a charitable organization, so all contributions are tax deductible.

Ann and I, along with our long-term volunteer partner Bill Goslin, decided to get involved in this effort, and to hopefully bring along each and every volunteer who ever set their head on a pillow in our First Street Bunkhouse. We're reaching out to as many of them as we know, and asking them in every way possible to reach others they worked with, until we've networked our way into contacting every one of them. Ann spent a considerable amount of time getting a non-profit PayPal account set up for this purpose (If you click on the buttons above, that's where you go. Trustworthy and easy.) If each of us made a small financial contribution, in addition to a small time commitment to contact their fellow volunteers and all family and friends who didn't volunteer but have followed the rebuilding effort, we as a team could provide substantial assistance to the Rev's effort to put his stake in the ground and build his Church.

To be honest with y'all, I'm not much of a church-goer anymore. But I do go to church when I'm in New Orleans, and that's because Reverend Eden spreads the Gospel in such loving and tangible ways. He does it in the pulpit, with his gifted preaching skills, making his biblical readings relevant to the realities of Central City life for his congregants. It is a gift I have witnessed and absorbed many times. As important to me, he has done it in so many ways outside the pulpit. Defending the bunkhouse and the volunteers from his superiors and congregants when they wondered what this young preacher was up to and when would they get their church back was just one way.

As we arrived here for this latest trip, we dropped in for Sunday services with Reverend Eden, and in the three weeks we've been here, we seen him three times in front of his congregation. Seeing what he has already accomplished, I have every confidence that he will lead his congregation to their own church building soon. There isn't much room in their small borrowed space, especially when you consider the size of the Rev's heart.

My love to all,

David/Dad

What Goes Around...

Hello Everyone, and Greetings from New Orleans,

It's time to take stock of where we've been, what we've done, who we've done it for, and who we've done it with and been inspired by.

In September of 2006, Ann and I made our first trip here to this richly-textured and wounded foreign land. At the time, we naively assumed we'd make that trip, and that trip only.

Over the past nearly 3 years, 10 trips and 10 months here on the ground, I've seen a lot. A lot has changed, albeit glacially when you look at the pace of the actual rebuilding. Nevertheless, over that period of time, even a snail makes progress. It's a lot like watching your kid grow. Each day, nothing is apparently changing. Add a few years, though, and wow--what happened?

On our very first day at work here, Saturday September 9th, 2006, Ann and I awoke for the first time in our bunkhouse at the First Street United Methodist Church on the corner of First and Dryades Streets. We had no idea where we were. "Central City", I heard someone call it. We wandered around the bunkhouse, meeting people and trying to figure out how this all worked. I walked out to our toolshed to see what it looked like. The first person I met there, whom I assumed to be a boss based upon his apparent knowledge of where everything was located and how everything should be organized (We later found out he'd been there two weeks ahead of us) was a foreign fellow (South African, we later learned) named Reggie Derman. In what I came to understand as Reggie's general high-energy and focused style, Reggie immediately got me involved in the gathering of tools for our job that day. When instructed, I got in the van with a bunch of other strangers, and off we rolled into the city. Our work that day was to gut a large home (I couldn't call it a double-shotgun because I didn't know what that was) on Robertson Street, just off Esplanade. I didn't know that "Esplanade" rhymes with "lemonade" here in New Orleans. All I knew was turn here, see a park full of FEMA trailers, turn there, see an entire block of homes with doors open and windows missing, jump on an expressway, see the Superdome and its huge sign "Superdome Reopening September 25th", jump off the expressway, see a huge homeless camp underneath I-10, turn again, pass empty storefronts, a shuttered car rental agency and an empty car dealership, then turn again, once more, and then once more. The van stopped, and we got out. My head was spinning. Red "X"s painted on every home, communicating messages I had no idea how to interpret.

That day I watched and participated in some of the dirtiest work I'd ever done. All the while, I soaked up, and then, like everyone else, radiated the energy that group generated. I heard laughing, loud music, hammers banging, debris crashing from the ceiling to the floor, and wheelbarrows bouncing down the front steps. I wore a Tyvek suit, a hardhat, and a respirator, just like the big kids, and I was doing my best to emulate their work.

That's all it took. At the end of the day, I was hooked.

I'll speed this up. Caliopie. Jamie and Alex before starting their freshman year in college. Jim and Lindsey. After that, Mr. Gibson's siding project. Sushi. Ann went home. Miranda takes her place at the saw. AmeriCorps NCCC. Amanda. Miss Rose's foundation. Troy came. Brian came. Team Nasty is born. .38 Special kicks ass. Sod busting in the Hoffman Triangle. Nic. Steve Gleason blocks the first Atlanta punt in the Saints' first post-Katrina game home in the rebuilt Superdome. Saints score. New Orleans erupts in joy. Chandra. Prez. Steve. Pam. Beers at Igor's. Emma. Melissa. Jim assures Richard we actually landed on the moon. Gunshots at dinner time on Dryades. Troy and I see the Lower Ninth for the first time. Brian goes home to Alabama. Troy moves to Biloxi to work. I head home. Ann meets Lana Corll at the Houston Quilt Show. Ann returns to New Orleans for trip number 2 and roofs a house. I return in March for my trip number 2. Kelsey comes with me. Mr. Carter's gut project and fried chicken. Kelsey and I learn how to eat crawfish. Kelsey trades kisses on the cheek for roses at the St. Joseph's parade in the Quarter. Juilliard arrives, along with VCU, Appalachian State and Florida kids. Jamie Tam's Dance Party. Davida Finger of the Loyola Law Katrina Clinic helps Miss Rose after Lana introduces us. Miss Peggy's rebuild gets going. Liz leads. So does Miss Jessie's. Sean leads. Bunkhouse Goodbye Nights get tearier. Renee' moves from New York. Reggie leads the New Orleans East Super Gut, and inspires us all by telling us that "Good work, hard work--that's important. But what I really want today is for all of you to do your work with love for this family you will never meet. Leave your love inside this home, and this family will use it to wash away their tears." He was 21 years old. We do 4 days of work in 1 and 1/2 days. Noah. Crystal. Ashley. Hands On New Orleans hosts the Hands On Network National Convention. Geneva tells us all to turn our Hands On shirts inside-out while we are drinking Hands On-provided beers at a Hands On-hosted private reception, to ensure that no one will know we are from Hands On. Alan. Ryan. Aaron. Todd. Red. Buck. Cat. Mary Ellen and her sister Lauren arrive to volunteer for a week. We all work at Miss Rose's, along with JJ and others. Eric stops Miss Rose's 5-month old water leak. I try to stop her $2,000 water bill. Mary Ellen (later "Teacher") and Reggie hit it off. Eddie. Chet. Public Enemy Number 2. I come back on July 31. Wyndham Resorts puts us up for the entire month without charge because the bunkhouse is shut down. Sad days leaving the old bunkhouse. The AB in the ME. Siding Miss Rose's home. Kudi. Jordan. Working to finish Miss Jessie's home. Teacher moves to New Orleans. Ann arrives and shows us all how to tile Miss Jessie's floors. Caliopie and Adam become the first Katrina Couple at Hands On when they return to marry. 2nd Katrina anniversary. We miss (by 5 minutes, when the police wave us through) a wonderful chance to tell President Bush how much we "appreciate" all he's done for New Orleans. Anderson Cooper joins us in Violet, LA with the summer bugs. Back for Halloween. Ann sends full-sized candy bars for the kids on Dryades Street, and Reggie, Teacher, Miranda I distribute them on Halloween night. Miss Jessie's FEMA trailer is bid goodbye, and Miss Jessie moves back into her home. The Hume Family and their seed company send 1,542 pounds of vegetable and flower seeds to the people of New Orleans. UPS ships 'em gratis. Ann, Kelsey, and Stephanie arrive, and we all help Miss Jessie hang curtains and assemble furniture. Miss Peggy feeds us Thanksgiving Dinner made in her FEMA trailer. The Tool Fund is born, and Kathie and Big Al anchor it. Ann and I, with Reggie and Teacher helping, lead a project in January to build the Douglass High School deck with our new friends from Kaiser Permanente. Doc. Nic. Teri. Shawn. Joe. Eddie. John. Edmiston Barriers. Our first real Mardi Gras. Small world as we meet Professor Philip Frohnmayer at our regular coffee place. Bill Goslin arrives again, and the NBA sponsors a number of service projects during All Star Week and we insulate a home in Gentilly under the leadership of Steve ("McStevey", if you get my drift, ladies). Davida asks us to see if we can help a family in Metairie finish up their rebuilding. In 3 days, Reggie, Emily and I complete it for Mr. Pat and Miss Laura, and the concept of The $500 Project is born. Sean and Eric install the cabinets and sink, and the Patterson's have their home back. Duke. Lucy. RIP Lucy. Sarah T. Reed High School in New Orleans East gets an external makeover. One year later, it's as beautiful as ever. Cousins' Creole Restaurant gets a paint job. Ruthie. Hanging with Teacher, Lana, and Reggie with Teacher's class at the Zephyrs' baseball game. Darryl and LiAnne banging it out day after day for United Saints, the Rev's rebuilding organization. People come and go, and come again, leaving their imprint on the lives of the people they serve. Amy. Sean. Erik. Liz. Chandra. Allison. Kristin. Bri. Teacher signs on for another year teaching at Audubon Charter School, and the school celebrates with us. Our son Kevan funds our work, and Baby Ray and Mr. Harold Bellanger's home gets a little help. Their home is the magnetic center of Gentilly. Others returned only after they heard Baby Ray and Mr. Harold had come home. Painting out their orange "X" with Baby Ray and Mr. Harold's help makes my Top 10 List of emotional highs. Gustav. John Jowers drives all night to get us to Baton Rouge from Atlanta. A Lady With a Chain Saw?!?! Road tripping in the Bayou with Ann and Reggie to clear trees off cars and homes. Bringing Jake home after another hurricane. Lana's lower level is completed, and Ann tiles her floor as only Ann can. Ann meets Christo Raines and his fellow Jesuit Volunteers who live across the street from Lana. Reggie and James Gandolfini. Miss Della's home gets tiled as Ann and I get introduced to Rebuilding Together. Kaiser puts $30,000 in to triple-match the $10,000 raised for the Tool Fund. Miss Fern. Ann. Miss Monique. Teacher. Reggie. The Humes send another 1,100 pounds of seeds to Parkway Partners for Macon Fry to distribute. FedEx ships 'em gratis. Back again in February. Our Jesuit Volunteers join Ann and me and do the Franklin Street Mini Gut for Miss Debra. Bill Goslin returns. Miss Pearson's home gets a lot of loving attention from the three of us and Reggie. Juilliard returns for a third year. Miss Antoinette K-Doe passes away on Mardi Gras morning. Todd and I button up the places at Miss Debra's where squatters have broken in. Ann, Reggie, Todd, Niko, and Niko's parents do some work and get Miss Cloud's home removed from a court-ordered demolition list. Mr. Ronald. Miss Wanda. Miss Anne. The faces and the names of people who still need help despite doing what they can to rebuild their homes and their lives. Mr. Hammond thanking God for help from Pennsylvania who saw his story in the New York Times and came to help him rebuild ahead of some FEMA functionary showing up to take his trailer. God Bless Davida Finger. Returning to join Rebuilding Together. Miss Janet's home in the Holy Cross. Miss Alice's home in Hollygrove. Reggie quits his job and joins the team for one last old-school workfest before he and Teacher move to Chicago. Tile a floor. Raise a wheelchair deck and ramp. Reframe a wall and fix the siding. The Finest Microwave Hotdog in the 1600 Block of Hollygrove Street. Rod Rian in the Morning on 104.1 FM, The Rock of New Orleans, live from Houston. Lots of water. Batdorf and Bronson Coffee all along the way.

I know paragraphs aren't supposed to go on that long. Thanks for staying with me.

On Friday, May 29th, Reggie and I finished up our work together in New Orleans. I was really happy that day. Reggie was with me on my first day in New Orleans, and I was with him on his last. There was something right about us being there, together, as it began for us and as it ended for us. Hopefully, we'll get a chance to work down there together again, but that Friday was the official end. What he's left and what he's taking away from his experience in New Orleans will live on, both for him and for his City. He is a true Son of the City. Someday, it will be my honor to attend the ceremony when he takes his oath of United States Citizenship. Reg, the Federal Courthouse is on the corner of Camp and Lafayette. We'll be there with you.

Travel safely, Reggie and Teacher. Good luck in everything that comes after this. You are loved, you are remembered, and trust me, you will be missed.

Go Cubs.

My love to all.

David/Dad

Rebuilding. Together. Again.

Hello Everyone, and Greetings from New Orleans,

As many of you know, our last trip here was difficult and problematic in a number of ways. After returning home from that trip, Ann and I vowed to put it behind us and find a way to get back to the work we originally came here to do. I'm happy to report that it seems we've done just that. We joined Rebuilding Together, an organization that is focused on rebuilding Katrina-damaged homes primarily for elderly and disabled people. We've worked a bit with Rebuilding Together in the past, and found them to be focused, organized, and very capable. It's been a very refreshing change to simply show up at the assigned address at 8:30 am and go to work. The tools are already there. The materials we need are already there. The AmeriCorps team is already there. There's a porta-potty outside. There's cold water in a cooler. All we do is walk inside, get our work assignment and go to work. At 4pm, we close it up and head home. In the morning, we get up and do it again. Our kind of gig.

This week's work had us on Royal Street in the Holy Cross section of the Lower Ninth, working to finish one side of a double-shotgun home that belongs to Miss Janet and Miss Glenda, two sisters who have lived in that home for over 40 years. The Holy Cross neighborhood is at the southern tip of the Lower Ninth, up against the river and as far away as you could get from the Industrial Canal breeches that catastrophically destroyed homes closer to the breaks. Although the Holy Cross sits on some of the highest ground in New Orleans, homes there took water to the roofs of their porches.

These two ladies grew up in this home, and lived there with their mother before the storm. Miss Janet told me that the three of them were evacuated to the Superdome, where they witnessed, "Everything you heard about. It was hell. Rapes, murders, deaths from exhaustion, stress, dehydration. It shortened my mama's life, seeing all of that."

Miss Janet never wanted to come back home, afraid of what she'd find inside her childhood home. But her mama couldn't stay away, and one year after the floodwalls failed, they came home. With resources they had at hand, they had one side rebuilt, and the three of them shared it while they tried to figure out how to rebuild the other side, which the sisters would then occupy. Sadly, last fall, their mama died, having been the one who insisted they come home, but never seeing the rebuilding completed.

On Mothers' Day, the sisters decided to go see their mama and leave her flowers. At the last minute, Miss Glenda couldn't do it. It was just too hard, this close to completion, to kneel at her mama's grave and tell her they were almost done, knowing she wouldn't be there when we finally packed up our tools for the last time. Miss Janet made the visit for both of them.

Their home is very well kept, on a very well-kept street. This is a neighborhood in the truest sense. People know each other, look out for each other, and, dare I say, care for each other. This corner of the Lower Ninth got organized immediately after the storm, and there was never a doubt about what they'd do together--they were coming home. End of story.

Royal Street is beginning to look recovered. There is still work going on at a few homes, and there is one derelict home across the street from Miss Janet and Miss Glenda's home, but the paint on all of the others is fresh, and life is beginning to return to normal. Normal, I guess, if you can factor in the loss of your mama after huddling with her in a dark Superdome concourse, protecting her from the dangers and the sights and the smells of death, and then lose her so close to finally finishing the rebuilding of your childhood home.

That's what normal looks like now.

My love to all,

David/Dad

Postscripts:

1) Ann and I arrived on Saturday. On Monday, our dog Boo went into the emergency room, where the vets recovered a piece of gravel she had sucked all the way into her lung. On Tuesday, Ann flew home to care for her, to administer her antibiotics to fight back the risk of pneumonia from the procedure, and to keep her quiet and warm. We sure do miss you, Ann.

2) Last Fall, we worked at the home of Miss Fern Kern. You can read her story in my November 9th entry, Falling Through the Cracks. Miss Fern has been away from her home for a couple of months, living in a convalescent center recovering from a fall. In advance of her return, Ann called Bill Goslin, our pal and fellow volunteer, and asked him to check the house out to see if everything was OK. Bill happened to be in New Orleans on his latest trip. Ann prepared him for the shock of seeing the condition of the structure, which is beyond basic repair. As we've come to expect from Bill, he didn't just fire up the water heater and make sure the fridge was cold. He saw the bathroom, and then brought another long-term volunteer over with him, and they spent days rebuilding the bathroom walls, ceiling and floor. Further, they decided that, with more help and some funds, they could do some wall rebuilding and roof repair throughout the house. Bill asked Amy Allen to see what could be done, and Amy got our friends at Kaiser Permanente involved. The Kaiser folks are arriving this weekend for their latest week of work here in New Orleans. They are going to provide time and money to help Miss Fern live in a bit more dignity.

Thanks Ann. Thanks Bill and friends. Thanks Amy. Thanks Kaiser. I love you all.

Something's Happening Here

Hello Everyone, and Greetings from New Orleans,

Ann and I arrived on February 19th. Once again we're staying in our friend Lana Corll's guest room and driving her pickup, and our volunteers are drinking the great coffee always provided by our pals at Batdorf & Bronson- thanks Lana and thanks Batdorf & Bronson. We are very grateful.

The Work

A couple of weeks before we arrived, we heard from our fellow volunteer Bill Goslin. He extended a business trip to Texas with a week in New Orleans before heading back to his family in upstate New York. We love working with Bill because he's a) very talented, b) very motivated, and c) is a great guy with a great heart. Our kind of fellow would-be New Orleanian. We spent a week with Bill (and Reggie on his day off) working at a couple of different sites. Bill just doesn't quit. Between the four of us, we repaired Miss Emma Pearson's home, which was full of drywall fractures that occurred because she had virtually completed the rebuilding of her Upper Ninth Ward home when she received a grant to raise the home several feet. The home got raised, and basically all drywall around the windows and doors fractured. With Ann's and Bill's skill mudding and taping, and all of our brawn sanding and painting, we knocked that job out. I went back last week with Reggie to re-hang all of the interior doors and to prepare the rest of the baseboard and trim for installation. Miss Emma and her daughter Miss Donna spent Sunday cooking an entire Sunday-Mom Meal for us, which we enjoyed with our friend and host Lana Corll.

Bill spent his week in the bunkhouse with this year's group of volunteers from the Juilliard School. You'll remember Juilliard from my entries of March 2007, when I had the honor of sharing the bunkhouse with that year's group of very talented and very inspiring students. They have come back each year with a new group, but with an incredible institutional memory of the work and what their involvement means to it. There is something very special about the Juilliard students who choose to join this annual effort in New Orleans. This year's group was no different.

Bill, Ann and I also spent the first half of our first day together in Hands On's new tool warehouse. They moved in on February 1st, but most of the tools save for rakes shovels and brooms were still not organized or available. We needed tools, so we decided to jump in and organize. By noon, we'd found and organized most of the power tools and most of the hand tools. Made our work a lot easier after that because we now knew where everything was.

That Saturday, Ann and I took a group of Jesuit Volunteer Corps members to Franklin Street to do a mini-gut and clean up for Miss Debra. In 5 hours, they had completely cleaned out all debris left behind by the storm, and had gutted damaged ceilings throughout. These volunteers are in New Orleans for a year, assigned to a variety of full-time projects, but they joined us because they wanted to help with the work we were doing. It was old-school Tyvek and respirators, and they did their work very well. Last week, Todd and I went back to secure a few doors that allow access by squatters and thieves.

In between, Ann and I headed to the Lower Ninth Ward to begin a 3-day project requested by Davida Finger of the Loyola Law Katrina Clinic. To get Miss Jeanetta Cloud's home in the Lower Ninth removed from a City-ordered Demolition List, there was a list of improvements that needed to be made to the exterior of the home. Ann and I removed rotten soffit and fascia boards one one side of the house. The next day, Reggie and I cut and primed the new material, and we then installed the new soffit. That Friday, I had a team of 5 people (Todd, Niko, and Emily from Hands On, and Niko's parents, Barb and Jerry, who were in town for a long weekend with their son). Todd and Niko installed the new fascia boards and trim, everyone painted, we repaired two damaged siding areas, and Jerry and I installed roof flashing on two sides of the house. Our work didn't rebuild the home, but we were pleased to hear last week that the court agreed that our repairs were sufficient to move Miss Jeanetta's home off the demolition list for two more months while she tries to move her Road Home application towards closing, after which she will do what she has long desired to do, which is rebuild and move home.

After Ann went home on March 12th, I spent time at the home of Miss Doretha McCray, who owns a double-shotgun on the corner of Gallier and Roman in the Upper Ninth. We weren't able to get much work done for her, but Todd, Reggie and I installed a few light fixtures and made functional a half-assed handrail Miss Doretha's contractors partially installed prior to walking off her job and leaving her high-and-dry. When Ann and I arrived to scout this home a few weeks ago, Miss McCray and her daughter Wanda showed us through the home. They paid the contractor to complete her home, and it is nearly complete except the bathrooms don't operate yet (and the tile work is so bad I can't believe anyone would have so little pride that they could call what they did "work" at all), the kitchen has cabinets but no countertops or sink, the once-beautiful hardwood floors lie un-refinished, with the gouges, scratches, paint and other damage that comes from first being flooded and then being left unprotected from construction workers and the ancillary damage they cause in the normal course of their work. Miss Wanda just stood there, in my arms, and cried. She explained that they have no more money and no idea what to do next.

Endgames

The first house Hands On asked us to scout on this trip was a large camelback double shotgun that belongs to Miss Anne Pinckney, who is living in her FEMA trailer in the driveway of the home her grandfather built on A.P. Tureaud Street. As has become a very common story these days, she used her life savings to hire a contractor to repair her home, which took a couple of feet of water. The contractor did not gut the house, but used the money she gave him to install a couple of doors and windows, and then paint the first few rooms. That's basically it, and then he was gone. The wiring had not been done, the roof had not been repaired properly, the camelback portion (the rear of the house) was open to the elements, with rotten siding and framing, missing windows and doors, etc. FEMA has given her and her cousin until May 1st to vacate the trailer for good. The materials needed to actually repair the home will probably cost in the $50,000 range, and that assumes the labor is free. She has no more money of her own. Hands On no longer does these types of projects, save for their involvement in trying to match up providers with those in need. The bottom line? She is screwed. The truth is, I can see no circumstance that would result in her getting her home rebuilt. When the FEMA trailer goes away, I have no idea where she will go or what she will do.

3-1/2 years after Katrina, many flooded homes remain in post-storm condition, and time and the weather are getting to them. What might have been rebuildable/repairable structures during our first few trips down here have in many cases simply deteriorated and rotted beyond repair. Homeowners who are still waiting to resolve issues that are keeping them from getting their Road Home money continue to ask for our help. As Ann and I scouted potential projects Hands On had been asked about, in one case all we could do was to tell Miss Mary Wilson and her son (who had gutted her home himself and was attempting to shore up the foundation) the truth: her home is now almost certainly beyond repair. The roof had been tarped, but the tarp has long ago rotted in the sun and the rain, and the roof and roof frame were ruined. Inside, the water and sun had destroyed large chunks of framing. Below the floor, most foundation beams were rotted away by termites and the elements. We concluded that the only route to providing a home for her on that lot was to knock the house down and start over.

Hope has always been a constant here. Residents, despite their financial circumstances, disabilities or other challenges, have always exuded a resilience and faith that things were getting better.

When do you quit calling it Hope and start calling it Denial? Many people in this city are, in my opinion, nearing the end of the line when it comes to the possibility they might actually move back into their homes. We volunteers have ridden that tide of hope and done our work with the confidence that somehow, someway, it was all going to be OK someday. On this trip, we have seen a number of instances where it would be a lie to say that things are going to be OK. That's a hard fact to swallow. If it isn't the elements slowly hammering a structure to death, it's inept and dishonest contractors slapping some paint on it and demanding more money to continue.

If it isn't that, it's a case like that of Mr. Ronald Tonth, whose home sits on the corner of Forstall and Robertson Streets in the Lower Ninth. Mr. Tonth asked two Hands On Americorps members to come look at his place to see if we could help. They asked me to come along. Mr. Tonth has a full-time job, a wife, children, and mother-in-law that he lives with. In his spare time, he's been rebuilding his home himself. When we arrived to look at the home, I was immediately impressed with the quality and quantity of work he had already accomplished. The exterior was basically complete, and well done. When he arrived, we went inside with him to see what needed to be done. A few rooms still need sheetrock, the sheetrock that has been completed needs to have the seams sanded, there is plumbing work to be done, floors to be installed, cabinets, etc. It wasn't a tiny amount of work left, but it was all doable by volunteers with a bit of money and the proper leadership.

Mr. Tonth told us his story: He rebuilt his home on the slab of his flood-damaged home, which like many in the Lower Ninth took water all the way into the attic. His family had left before the storm arrived, but people directly across the street drowned when the floodwall broke. He had nearly completed the rebuilding, including having added a second floor to the home to accommodate his mother-in-law, when squatters caused a fire in the abandoned home immediately behind his home. Much of the work he'd already completed was destroyed by the heat and smoke of the fire that burned a few feet from his home. He hired a lawyer, and after paying the contingent fee, netted about $20,000. The State is paying rental assistance to help his family live nearby. That assistance stops for good in 4 months. This man has spent what he's got and is nearing completion, but is feeling the time pressure and the burden of worrying about whether he'll be finished before he and his family "End up on the street or whatever happens to people when the rent assistance runs out". He's paying the mortgage on his property, and can't afford to do that and pay rent.

Here's what he asked us for (his words): "Anything. Any help at all. If you could come and paint a room. That would help. If you could help install flooring. That would help. If you could sweep a floor at the end of the day. That would help. Anything at all. I'm doing this by myself because that's the only way we are going to get this done. I'm running out of time and I'm worried I'm losing my mind. It's hard to balance all this, but it's all on me and I've got to find a way."

That man has been at this non-stop since the storm, providing for his family, and spending every minute and every cent he has. As for kitchen cabinets, he has just the sink cabinet because, as he so correctly stated, "If I can get a sink hooked up, we have a kitchen for now". When I remarked that his work on the drywall was really good, and that the walls were going to look great after texture and paint, he laughed and said, "I can afford paint, but I can't afford texture". He has cut every corner he can just to find a way to move his family home in time. My heart hurts for this guy, who has done nothing but work hard to provide for his family, to bring them home after a largely man-made calamity took away every material thing they had, and another man-made calamity burned most of his work as he approached completion the first time.

Our Call to Action

There is nothing I can do, and nothing I can ask you to do, to help people like Miss Pinckney, who needs thousands of dollars and has no time. Nor is there anything we can do to help Miss Wilson, who also needs thousands of dollars to first knock down her home of 35 years and build a new one.

But, there is something we can do together for Mr. Tonth and Miss McCray, and for others like them all over this City who only need a few bucks and some donated expertise to finally get them home.

We've asked you for financial help before, and we know the last year hasn't been kind to those of us with investments and savings. But I want to reach out to you again, to ask you to help Ann and me directly help Miss McCray and Mr. Tonth and his family. These two jobs can each be easily completed with a few thousand dollars and some skilled volunteer help. These two families are very close to completion, but might not be able to get the rest of the way without help. These stories are like thousands of stories in this City so long after Katrina. If we all pitch in, we can help some of these folks get over the top and get finished.

You can contribute one of two ways: If you wish your contribution to be tax deductible, you can make your check out to Hands On New Orleans and send it to me so I can direct it to these projects. If you don't care about the tax deductibility of your contribution, you can make the check out to me personally. In the former, I will restrict the donation for materials for those specific projects. It adds a bit of bureaucracy to do it this way, but it works. If you make the check payable to me, you don't get the deduction, but I get incredible flexibility to spend when we need to, with no delays or process. Either way, I promise that your money will be used for materials, and for materials only, for Mr. Tonth, Miss McCray, or for other small projects I don't yet know about but will inevitably discover when Ann and I return for our 10th trip in April. You can choose the project you want to contribute to, if you wish, or you can leave it to me to disburse the money where I think it is best used and most needed. No matter what, I beg you to consider making a contribution, no matter the amount, and send it to me today. Hands On has a number of skilled volunteers scheduled to arrive there over the next few weeks, and the work that needs to be done is urgent. I will personally see that our money is spent for its best and highest purpose, and that we use it to move these jobs to completion as quickly and nimbly as possible.

Thank you for giving this some thought. On behalf of those your contributions will help, I am grateful for anything we can do together to help.

My love to all,

David/Dad



Postscript: On Mardi Gras, Miss Antoinette K-Doe died. Miss Antoinette was the owner and operator of the Mother In Law Lounge, the first actual rebuilding project Hands On took on. Bill was involved in that project, along with Reggie and several other true believers and early Hands On volunteers. Miss Antoinette had one of the biggest hearts in New Orleans, and the lounge was a magnet for musicians and volunteers alike. After rebuilding the lounge, Hands On enjoyed a special status, and anyone with a purple shirt was golden. We have enjoyed many a Thursday night at the lounge when it was closed but available for band rehearsals. Imagine watching a popular band practice in front of you and a dozen of your friends while you enjoyed Miss Antoinette's red beans and rice. We've had many special times with Miss Antoinette. You can read a blurb about her life and influence on us and the City in last week's Time Magazine at http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1883364,00.html.

On Saturday morning after Bill arrived, we all donned our purple shirts and headed to Miss Antoinette's funeral. For those of you unfamiliar with New Orleans' funeral traditions, let me just say that Ann and I decided that, wherever we are when we pass on, we wish to be shipped immediately to New Orleans. There's a saying that New Orleans put the "fun" in "funeral". The service itself was joyful and uplifting in a way that, as you sit in attendance, it occurs to you that this is after all how Christian religions teach you to approach death. They've got it right.

Following the service (and you are going to have to forgive me now for being such a novice in the tradition), we all lined up behind the mule-drawn wagon/hearse that carried her body and walked in the Second Line. Second Lines, if I've got this right, are the loosely-assembled folks that fall in behind the formal funeral procession. It's the hangers-on, the neighbors, the folks along the way who, well, just join in and follow what looks like a parade. There's an entire brass band ahead of us just behind Miss Antoinette and we join in, picking up everyone along the way that feels the urge, some with umbrellas, some dancing, some with beers in paper bags, everyone with a sense of belonging. In Miss Antoinette's case, the procession ended at the Mother In Law Lounge, where her pallbearers lifted her casket from the carriage, and hoisted it three times into the air as we wished her home to heaven. And then the dancing continued. Miss Antoinette's father and relatives were Mardi Gras Indians, and Mardi Gras Indians from many tribes joined us in celebratory respect and love for her.