Day two New Orleans journal entry: The storms of life and the meaning of home
In this, the second of five journal entries from Shirley Showalter, Fetzer Vice President of Programs, she shares her experience volunteering in New Orleans with the Mennonite Disaster Service which cooperates with Catholic Charities and the American Red Cross.
Late Monday a thunderstorm hit New Orleans, waking me in the middle of the night. My thoughts went out to the children of this city who lived through Hurricane Katrina. I wonder about the trauma and fear they might experience in storms the rest of their lives.
But today dawned bright and cool. We went back to the house to continue doing finish work–trim, paint, cabinet installation, closet shelves. Half way through the morning, Royce, the son of the homeowner came for a visit. He was excited to see the cabinets in the kitchen and to imagine his mother’s delight when she comes back to reclaim her house after living in Houston. We had a good long chat about his two talented children, about whether the levees will hold if there is another hurricane, about the horrific things that happened in the neighborhood after the waters surged over the levees.
Royce told us about his cousin whose house was completely flooded. The family perched on top of the roof, which eventually came loose from its foundation and started floating. Then the house split in two. Half of the family stayed stable on one piece of roof, but the wife and mother were swept under the current. The father and son were powerless to save their loved ones as they clung to their life-saving roof remnant.
Families all over the Ninth Ward were separated, and almost all of them have lost friends, loved ones, and neighbors. After almost three years, many of the survivors are coming home. Life is hard, but those who are coming back see slow signs of life beginning to emerge.
Some storms, like the one last night, bring welcome rain and refreshing coolness. Not all storms destroy. Of all the healing forces in a ravaged land, nothing is stronger than the love of family and the pull of home.
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