Report from Brandon Lerda Tue, 18 Oct 2005 Where I lived in 1976 while making money to fund the purchase of a large truck for Plenty in Guatemala. After watching Katrina hit the Gulf Coast, then the Federal Government's bungling response, then Gary Maclaughlin and Plenty's dive into action, my partner Robin felt the need to engage - to go help. I wouldn't miss the opportunity to help, also, and to re-visit the place where I'd lived almost 30 years ago in Bayou Blue. Robin connected with Ralph MacAtee, who had jumped onto Gary's bus and become Plenty International's Director of Hurricane Relief. A few days later, we were preparing for a 2-week stint to the disaster area, not knowing where we'd 'deploy'. We received medical donations from our local doctors and drug reps and spent a long day and night sorting and preparing these for travel. I bought large suitcases at the local thrift stores and a local rep ran back home to get his 2 duffle bags, while a friend politely haggled on the phone with the airline for a waiver on the extra luggage. Though Jonnie did not get direct satisfaction that night, when she dropped us off at 5:15 the next morning, Delta Airlines checked the extra baggage at no cost. And off we flew, Sept. 25th, the day after Rita hit land, already feeling the 'magic'. Landing in Nashville that evening, we found Ralph and wife Colleen who had rented us a mini-van. With Robin, Ralph led the way down, right past a tornado, to the Farm. Ramona took us in for the night, and after a small welcoming party with old friends dropping by, we turned in. Robin hadn't been back in over 20 years. The next morning we checked in with Plenty Director Peter, who gave us official Plenty relief worker papers, t-shirts, magnetic sign for the vehicle, and good wishes. I picked up Mulci while Robin and Ralph, in a Plenty van with supplies, picked up Elaine and off we drove, heading to Mobile. FEMA trucks in Baton Rouge We rolled into the VFP houses, just west of Mobile, as night fell. There we met the outstanding VFP crew, and Monica who was there from Michael Moore. Had another fun night and then figured a basic plan of action the next morning. Robin and I left for Baton Rouge where Robin would get credentialled to practice in LA. That operation was centered in the Jimmy Swaggart World Headquarters. Trees along I-10 Along the way down I-10, with a little swing down MS Hwy90 (around where I-10 was choked to 1 lane) we saw some of the Katrina wind damage. Most every billboard had it's panels stripped, then it's steel frame bent over flat or mangled, then a few were just snapped off their 24" steel pipe posts! I did not see a single gas station who's pump overhang wasn't laying in a mangled heap - on top of the pumps - or splayed across the adjoining lot. Seemed most of the trees in view were dead, or 1/2 dead. Crews were along the interstate running power lines. Heading south Robin had been 'pulled' towards a few different areas of need that we were aware of: a) the pioneering clinic established within the first days after Katrina by Common Ground in the Algiers neighborhood of New Orleans; b) the coastal area where Katrina actually landed - Biloxi, Gulfport & Longbeach, MS.; c) the United Houma Nation - Indian tribe living south of NO along the very bottom of LA. She was in communication with all these places ... and felt the UHN was where she wanted to start. So across to the west side of the Mississippi we drove, and headed south on LA Hwy.1. Chief Brenda and Volunteers We got down to the headquarters of the UHN in Dr. Mike Robichaux Raceland by late afternoon. We met and were warmly greeted by Chief Brenda and her extended family and the volunteers who'd come to help, and we all enjoyed a delicious meal of fry bread "indian tacos". Oh yeah, ... Hurricane Rita had blasted through, to the west, just a few days before. That event had chased off about 2/3 of the 30 volunteers who had camped there. Chief Brenda and her husband, Dr. Mike Robichaux, made us feel as family. There were 7 or 8 volunteers staying in the house already, but the accommodations were plentiful. Most of the vols preferred moving back out to tent-camp in the spacious yard. Next morning, I got up with the sun and the 4 vols who constituted the roofing crew. Robin stayed and got to know the tribal members and vols helping integrate the donations at the 'store'. She then set up an outdoor vaccination clinic and gave tetanus and flu shots and checked blood pressure, treated simple and some complex medical problems, etc. Dr. Robin Rose and patient Roofing crew volunteers I went with the 4 other vols and we fixed up 5 or 6 roofs in the next 6 days. We received a list of tribal members in need and we'd check them out and make an evaluation and estimate of what would be needed. The houseowner would then have to come up with the materials, and Leticia from the tribal office would give us the work order. Some roofs had only minor damage, ie. several areas of blown off 3-tab composition shingles. Depending on the extent of the area, torn felt paper or not, we'd either lay in fresh shingles for the damaged ones and just patch the area, or tear off down to the decking and felt + shingle the entire face anew. One older house had a good amount of deck rot and 3 rafters to replace. We just did what was needed in an effort to fix and cover the most. Locals with our dinner Coming back from my first day with the roofing crew, we met some locals who insisted we let them feed us all dinner, in appreciation for what we were doing. This was the beginning of our nightly dilemma - deciding which of several invitations for dinner to accept. Needless to say, this food, from these folks, ..... well, it just doesn't get any better down on the bayou. Often the first words upon meeting the owner of the next roof we were to repair and reroof, after "Hello." were "I'll be cooking for you (shrimp jambalaya, seafood gumbo, alligator stew, chicken fricassee) here for your lunch." You know, first things first! Then we'd talk about the roof. The hospitality of everyone, from our UHN hosts to our clients and the folks we served, to locals we did nothing personally for at all ... was soo wonderful - such a 'sweet blessing'. Included here is the radio station, KLRZ 100.3 fm right there in Larose, that was vital in that first week after Katrina, then Rita had buried the area in bayou water and many people found themselves in desperate circumstances, connecting those needing help with those giving it. We heard them one morning on the way to work talking about volunteers and wanting to hear from some, so we just pulled in and they put us all on the air with little personal introductions and why we came, etc. and a bunch of community appreciation. "Rajun' Cajun" radio. If you want to know wassup on the bayou, they stream online. Herbert fed us lunches. Stirling fixed us seafood gumbo. House the morning after Rita. (photo by Terry Dardar) Exploded trailer After helping "drop-ins" at the distribution center, Dr. Robin got involved in outreach to the small shrimper communities further downbayou, where the floodwaters were just receding enough to allow access by road: Dulac and Grand Caillou, and later still to Montegut, Pointe au Chien and Isle de Jean Charles. For these communities, Katrina damaged some roofs, blew fences all over, and toppled some trees, but it was Rita that did the most damage here, with a storm surge flood and with the 3rd lowest drop in air pressure ever recorded, which literally sucked soo many windows out of their buildings (mostly homes) and exploded a number of mobile homes (I saw 4 in my limited travels). The water rose so fast, locals said they barely had time to grab their shoes and run out the door to get to a higher situation. The water was fast and higher than other floods, and most of these short term evacuees came back to total loss - not what they expected. Even their canned goods were contaminated, floating or sliding off shelves and ending up in the 3 to 10 inches of swamp bayou, oil/paint/sewage contaminated sludge that covered the floor when the water receded. Dulac six days after Rita Oak Point the morning after Rita (photo by Terry Dardar) So the roofing crew morphed into a cleanup crew and the last few days of my stay were mostly spent with the crew hauling everything out of the houses which had peak water to the top of the refridge, on average. The water fell about 18" and then slowly receded over the following 2 - 5 days, leaving everything inside ruined. Yes, it smelled very bad. Many older residents couldn't move the big stuff outta their houses. Cleanup crew There's a cemetery, Provost, in Dulac that was badly disturbed ... caskets out floating ... we're working to have it cleaned up and restored. Without getting started with the many personal stories from the surrounding residents, suffice to say the emotional trauma rivals the property trauma. Yet these poor subsistence shrimpers, most having lost everything they had, and possibly their very house and/or boat itself, hold to an amazing resiliency and go about whatever they need to do next with strength, determination and a giving positive energy that displays a confidence that they're going to make it through this one, too. After emptying the house the next thing to do was to tear off the walls, and start the drying process and determine what's really left to deal with. Not much sheetrock there - primarily 1/8th inch paneling, already delaminating, of course. Many houseowners have taken off the walls inside and out, a foot or so up from the floor in order to push the sludge out. Others have punched out holes in their floors. Once that's out, a hose and spray handle washes off all surfaces and then the bleaching begins .... Above the flood The real answer is to lift these houses up onto pole platforms 6 - 10 feet. Charlie Fitch came up from Florida a few days before we left, and we spent the last day or so checking out how raised houses there were done, and beginning to come up with a way to make that happen. Since leaving I've learned that they've come across a man who has lifted his trailer, and has a video of that. I'm currently coming up with a couple designs and cost estimates for attaining raised housing for the Houma people. "Got Water" "Didn't get water" (note this home is on 8' poles). Photos by Terry Dardar After we left our new dear friends at UHN, we drove through New Orleans, past the Superdome and out of town through residential areas in the northeast of the city. It was still quite surreal 6+ weeks after Katrina. We crossed the eastern end of Lake Ponchartrain on LA Hwy 11 that brought us to Slidell. I-10, which parallels 11, looked like the freeways after the Cali. earthquakes - whole sections dropped into the lake. Slidell was a shock. Not only did it catch the storm surge flooding, but it took a big hit from wind damage. Most small houses were totally piles of trash. A row of new lakeside townhouses had their front *halves* ripped off and blown into piles of rubble. Most residents were gone, but some still remained .... at least enough to keep the handpainted date current on the cardboard sign along the road in front of the condos "Oct. [7] No Water, No Sewer, No Electric, No Nothing!" Plenty and other Houma crew volunteers What a revealing experience. Dr. Robin and I want to thank Plenty for facilitating this trip, which for us ... for the foreseeable future ... is not finished. We've generated interest here, and continue to receive folks wanting to give to relief work that's non-traditional, without the high overhead expenditures, and know that their giving is going to help the people who need it. Robin, I and local friends are directing these nice donors to Plenty International. Yours - Brandon