Brother Blue

I have been out of LA for weeks now, but still somehow I haven’t wrapped my head around all I experienced and saw. With that being said, with each passing moment it seems to become more and more distant.
Twice I have read my mothers reflections of the experience to audiences. In both cases I could not get through them with out choking up. The wound is still very raw when it is rubbed, but it is becoming more and more like a dull headache. In the moment you can’t feel it, but the moment you pause you are reminded it is there.
That is what happens with cuts a burses. They heal. Maybe not completely. They leave marks of remembrance, but some how we carry on.
We have to carry on, because other wise we would be crushed by the growing pain and sorrow we add in our lives.
In some way, I still need the pain. I need to be re-reminded what is out there. How the human family is struggling.
The School of Empathy
When I was in sixth grade I corrected by teacher. She was talking about feeling empathy. I raised my hand, “Don’t you mean sympathy?” Empathy was a word that I had not been introduced to. Even though my life is full of empaths, my heart was not introduced to empathy until I stood in that shelter.
I have felt sympathy many times before. I felt sympathy for my friends who lost so much in the gulf cost. I called, texted, and e-mailed them to let them know I was thinking of them and felt sorry for there plight and made feeble offers to help.
By Monday afternoon (my first day in the shelter) my heart broke open. I can’t say I have any clue what it feels like to go through all those in the gulf region had gone (and are going) through. My heard did not feel those emotions. Instead, my heart gave the ugly duckling reflection in the pond water of their emotions. My heart felt a fraction of a distorted replica of their feelings.
Oh, how my heart ached. I did not feel sorry. I felt pain. It is embarrassing to think how much I ached, know it was only a small part of what those who’s lives have to turned upside down felt.
I think that is part of the reason I feel helpless in this moment. I feel like I have less of a grasp on the problem before I went down. I fell like I have less of an understanding of how I have help. It is not a intellectual puzzle that needs to be put back together.
It reminds me of the old Judybats’ line. “Hearts cannot be broken. They are small squishy things. They don’t break like glass, but they bruise easily.”
How Not To Help
Offering help is tricky business. How do you go into a situation and provide help without saying, “You are not capable of doing anything. Let me fix you.”?
I learned a great lesson of dignity from the Cajon people. They way they over and over again provided aide in a fashion that was not a put down. Unfortunately, I saw the exact opposite from people who are suppose to do this right.
I must preface this with the fact this is one experience. It is not good to judge any organization on a small group of people that represent it. There were a few media accounts of similar things happening in other places. I am not sure if this is because they truly were isolated instances, or a story the mainstream media wants to steer away from.
Eleven days after land fall the Red Cross finally showed up. I don’t blame them for that. Their first act was to take over the shelter and turn away all the local volunteers. That was a crime. The people, who from there own blood, sweet, and tears had built a shelter out of nothing (included working showers and the ability to feed 2,100 a meal) were turned away. The people who, as one local volunteer put it, “always take care of their own during hurricanes.” They replaced the people who had relationships with those who were living in the shelter with untrained volunteers from California.
By day two the locals forced their way back in.
Only after 24 hours the RedCross had instituted many of it own rules. Their rules come from years of experience working with tragedy. But they also come from a large stuff of lawyers. Suddenly, people were restricted where they were allowed to go. They would only take donations of money. They changed the way the food was prepared (with the end result cause a significant drop in quality). They would not do many of the things the locals were willing to do help because of the liability. (For example they would not give anyone a ride. How exactly are you going to get to the dentist office, the social security office, or the DMV with out a ride when you have lost everything you own?)
They patronized the local. We were asked to move some clothing on Monday (the first full day with both locals and RedCross in the shelter). One of my friends who had been the shelter since day one was a little stunned as he was being ordered around. The volunteer then turned to him and said (like you would to a first grader), “You did such a good job. Keep up the good work.” It was as if they felt they needed to be cheerleaders to these back woods locals to make sure they kept their spirits up.
This may seem like a small thing, but in moment it was so hurtful. Some of the RedCross volunteers complained out loud. They complained about long hours, sore feet, having to sleep on cots, and the lack of sleep. They made these complaints without thought of who was standing around them (such as people who had lost everything they owned less than two weeks earlier).
There are times when we all need to blow off steam. On more than one occasion I heard, “Let’s step outside for a smoke,” from the shelter director. It was code for, “Come outside and stand next to me so I can blow off steam in a healthy way.”
If the locals complained or were blowing off steam they were doing it about the situation. They complained about the slow response of the government, the red tape that was slowing down funds, how people being treated, or the fact that there was a problem the could not solve for one of their guests.
I never once heard a local complain about their own plight. They understood the magnitude of what was happening around them. They felt lucking. They gave as much as they could and then quietly went home after a few hugs for the other volunteers.
Yes, there are two things that needed to be pointed out.
First, I as well was an outsider. This was not my community. I was prompted by some sense of hubris that I could make a difference. It is possible that I was an ugly outsider as well. I hope I was more help than harm.
Second, there were some really awesome RedCross volunteers. They brought in some great medical help, and a number of the regular volunteers (once they sensed the tension that was forming between the RedCross and the locals) would just walk up to local and say, “Tell me how I can help you.”
In the end the locals treated the RedCross as one more obstacle to helping the people in the shelter.
By the time I had left, they had finally gotten the from photo copied (it took four days) so those displaced could apply for vouchers. The vouchers would ultimately bring the cash that was so generously donated from all over the world, into the hands of those in need.
Back To My Point
My goal was not to write a RedCross bash. It was simply very frustrating to see it happen. Good meaning people do a poor job at help.
The take away from me is the caution it now raises when I think I am going to “help.” The struggle is how do I, with dignity, walk with my fellow man?
A task that is much harder solving a problem or fixing something that is broke.

There are two reasons for not having posted my reflections to this point. First, life has been crazy, but when is it not? Second, I have been having a very hard time wrapping my head around what I saw. What I experienced was profoundly real, but in some ways was so foreign it feels like a dream or a movie I saw.
Returning to my daily life has been hard, even with only spending three days in the shelter. The only experience I have ever had that is comparable, is visiting a foreign country. After being a while for while you feel foreign in our own home and your own skin.
The Jesuits describe such as experiences as ruining a person. You become ruined because there is no way you can unlearn what you experienced. I hope this is true. I hope not to unlearn what has happened to me. Here are a few lessons from my trip.
We Live in a Complicated World
We live in an unfortunate time of Red and Blue States. Everything seems to fall on party lines. Everything is political. In the days and weeks that followed landfall (the first time) blame and praise was passed of by people a thousand miles away in political offices and television studios. I will admit a number of bad choices were made by just about everyone. (You might be surprised at one of the sacred cows I am going to take a shot at in a future piece.) Should we have been more prepared? Yes. Could we have done more sooner? Yes. That doesn’t mean this is an easy problem to solve.
I was struck talking to the residents of the shelter I served how unique each situation was. One has a medical condition, the next a premature baby that needs specific food, the next doesn’t know where her 3 year old is.
People lost everything. And I don’t mean that in just sense of stuff they owned. They lost there home, there job, there community, their family. When the world is big and bad and mean the place I go is to a hot bath and then my bed. There is no home for them.
Even with the material lost, what was more valuable and much harder to replace is their identity what has been lost.
When I sit on a plane the questions are always the same. “Where do you live?” “What do you do?” These are the ways we define who we are. People lost that. They lost who they are. There is not government program or donation that can replace that. That is something that takes a lifetime to build.
[NOTE: Above when I talked about what should have been done I use the word "we" and I mean that. There is a misconception in our country that the government is a body that is separate from us. That is not the case; we are the government. In a democracy, the people get the government they deserve. We have created an ineffective government by the way we vote and our inaction in the process. We have created a system of professional politicians, on both sides of the aisle, who have little in common with those they represent. If the government has failed at this, or anything else, it is because we as a people have failed in the political climate we have created. This is our fault; it is not their fault, because they are us. It does us little good to jeer and hiss from the sidelines. If we want things to be done differently it is up to us to engage and participate.]
It Is ALL About The Small Things
The victories I saw were not big. They were small. In most cases very small.
A pair of size 15 shoes. A bottle of very special iron enriched formula. A hug. A ride to the bank. A new driver license. Getting to laugh for 25 minutes. $65 for gas to drive to a relatives house.
Yes, there are very big hurdles to clear. Lives to be rebuilt. But even then it is going to be one small step at a time. When it comes to what I can do, in anyone’s life, it is small things with love. Yes, that sounds cheese and cliché
It Is Not About Stuff, But Dignity
One of the most frustrating experiences I had while helping out was my time spent in the clothing room. I would be handed a slip of paper to fill the order for a person who had lost everything. I would have their age, gender, and sizes. It was my job to fill a bag. Much of the clothing we received in the donation room was crap. It was stained and had holes. It was years out of date. I guess this shows my vanity, but with a lot of the stuff, I wouldn’t wear it, even if I had nothing but the cloths on my back.
I did my job and filled the bags, but many times I was embarrassed because what I brought forward was the best I had to offer. I might have been bring them clothing, but I wasn’t bring then dignity. The pathetic bag of clothing was saying, “This is what you are worth.”
At the same time I learned no greater lesson in dignity than in the love and compassion that was shared by the locals. Whenever a questions was asked, they looked straight into the persons eyes and gave the best answer they could. They offered hugs. They called the residents hun and puddin’. In the simple ways they carried bags, or got food, or gave hugs they said, “You have value! You might have lost everything you own, but I love you.”
[NOTE: The next time you are cleaning out your closest, don't just put everything in a box and take it good will. When you are looking at the clothing you are going to get rid of don't think, "Those poor people. They will feel lucky to get anything." Instead ask this question, "My brother just lost everything he owns, would I give him this?" This is not to say you should not give used clothing away. Many of us don't wear perfectly good fashionalble cothing that could go to good use and will do much more in someone else closest. If you want to give some clothing away to someone in need go to the store and buy new underwear and shoes. Make them your donation. Tell someone in need they are worth new stuff.]
More lessons learned still to come…

I have been dashing about, trying to get ready to be in the road for 31 of 36 days (where I am right now), and have not had time to write down my reflections. These are the reflections my mother wrote. It is so beautiful. Be warned, it is a tear jerker. (I love my mom!)
It is all about me
That is a joke in our family….it’s all about me….but any new
experience has to be filtered through a persons past experience, the
person’s world view. I know intellectually that all through history
groups of people have lost everything and have been displaced. But I
have never seen it up close. So many things were learned, not new,
earth-shattering discoveries (hard worn realities), but new to me,
earth-shattering to my understanding of the world. Anything I share
might sound common place in the big picture (that grows more complex
each hour with Rita), but since I just experienced it, it is
extraordinary to me…..remember…it is all about me. As a trip over
many time zones, jet lag pulls at your body. I feel I have emotional
jet lag, which is pulling at my heart, so forgive me it I am a bit teary.
So, I offer some disorganized thoughts…
Laney, Gene David and I arrived at a shelter 60 miles from New Orleans.
This is only one small piece of this disaster. There are at least 80
shelters in La. alone.When the evacuees started showing up in this town,
all the phones were out, and local people went door to door to organize
a meeting to get organized. The community opened the Civic Center and
kicked into disaster (read as compassion) mode. They attempted to meet
all the needs of these traumatized, dispossessed people without the help
of FEMA, the Red Cross or any government agency.(who didn’t show up for
a week) The shelter housed about 1,700 people. It is believed about
7000 are being housed in local homes.
A few days after the shelter in Houma opened, the folks with Adore
Ministry saw a need to get evacuees out of the
shelter and to their family or friends in other areas. They formed the
Starfish Operation, based on the well worn story of the child throwing
one starfish at a time back into the ocean, despite the fact there are
thousands of starfish on the beach.. Through private donations, they
sent well over 800 people on to family and friends who would accept
them, by arranging bus tickets, airline tickets, Angel Wings flights,
entire buses, gas money and rides. Each person or family a starfish.
And the Operation continues. In the enormity of this disaster, it still
comes down to helping one person.
One of the many things we learned while we were there, was the immense
size of the disaster and the extreme complexity of the problems that
have arisen and will continue for years to come.
We observed and shared the despair of the obvious losses of the everyday
stuff of your life; clean underwear, your toothbrush. Also the despair
of so many less obvious losses; your neighborhood and your best friend
who lives across the street ( and you don’t even know what state she is
in), your favorite grocer, your church and your favorite priest, your
coffee ladies/men, your photos including pictures of your children as
babies and your deceased parents, the necklace your grandmother gave
you, your doctor, that house you have spent a lifetime making a home,
control over what food you eat, the rooms you celebrated all your
family’s milestones, the security you feel when you tuck in the kids
and close the front door…and it just goes on and on.
The despair of sitting with a woman who has called several family
members around the country, asking for shelter and being turned down.
The despair of a woman with 5 children with nowhere, no one to go to.
The despair of being hugged so tightly by a woman who says over and
over how scared she is, as she leaves for another state with an adult
son and 5 grandchildren, leaving behind everything she has ever known
including part of her family. The despair of being let down by your
government of so many levels.
But we also observed and shared in tremendous generosity, resilience and
hope. The people of this town are tremendous. This is in Cagin’
country, my first experience, and I am ready to move there. The people
are generous, polite and loving, though a bit hard to understand. The
volunteers at the shelter were local people, some who had as many as 17
displaced family and friends staying in there home; plus many
volunteers who were displaced from New Orleans, staying with relatives
in the area, just waiting to hear if there homes or jobs still existed.
They were there everyday. And they were thankful it be alive. I heard
that over and over again, how thankful they were, from volunteers and
residents of the community (as they are called). We observed the
tremendous generosity of people from all over the country as donations
pored in. From boxes of athletic gear and shoes from the U of Nebr, to
phone cards, toys, formula, diapers, new underwear (praise God, it gets
down to basics) to a box of clothes sent by a 9 year old boy from Bronx,
NY. An enclosed letter councils the boy that may receive his donation,
that maybe his new teacher with be the best and he will find a new best
friend. And the energy of so many volunteers to sort all this
everyday stuff that makes up our lives, and get it to the community. It
is so beautiful, it comes down to community, I feel I witnessed the
Body of Christ.
The hope of an elderly gentleman who was one of a handful to survive
after being left in a nursing home. With the work of Starfish, he was
reunited with an estranged son in CA and flown to live with the family
he hadn’t seen in years and meet grandchildren he had never met. The
resilience a of baby who finally started to eat after two days trapped
on a roof with his dad and a week in the shelter. The joy of the
volunteers as we located new shoes for 2 men who had walked 62 miles
from New Orleans. The joy of a man when we located new shoes for
him…he wore a 15 1/2. It came down to community, again and again.
but I struggle with the fact that it is just a hug given, or a pair of
shoes…..such a small gesture given the obstacles the people of this
region have to face. I will continue to pray people keep coming into
their lives and helping them on their journey. And since it’s all about
me remember, I will now filter all my new experience through what i have
been blessed enough to witness and share and i hope it will make me a
changed and (or as the Jesuits say) ruined person.

I have made it back home safely. 25 hours in the car have provided lots of time for reflections. Those thoughts to come soon.

The people are in a region are in transition this week because the situation is starting to change. For the first two weeks everyone was working in crisis mode. Lots of small fires needed to be put out now. It was a matter of housing and feeding the masses. It is now time to start dealing with the long-term impact of what has happened.
There are now, just two basic groups of people. Those in shelters and those who are with friends and families. From my small experience, everyone who has wanted to move from the shelters have.
In The Shelters
Those I encountered in the shelter fell into two categories. The first group still believes that they are going to return to their homes. Being in the shelter has given them limited information, this combined with the power of not wanting to accept what has happened has then in a state where they believe in just a few more days they will be able to return. Looking at the zip code of where they have come from, this is just not going to happen. They have no homes to return to. The second group is people who have found the shelter to be better than the life they left behind. They have three square meals a day, are in a building that is safe from the elements, and are safe from the crime of their neighborhoods.
The problems the communities face that are trying to help these people are complicated. The question is: How do you care for people, but make sure they are doing everything they can to help themselves?
I am not bright enough to come close to being able to wrap my head around this one.
In Homes
The long term problems for those in homes is just as complicated. For the people who have been displaced the question is what to do in mid to long term. Many people are not going to be able to return for many months. Do they buy homes in the communities they are now call homes? Do they look for new jobs? Or do they wait?
It is no easier for the communities they have moved into. People have taken friends, family, and strangers without question, but that doesn’t mean it is not hard for them as well. Many of the towns in the area have grown from twenty perencet to one hundred percent bigger.
Just imagine twice as many people every where you go. On the road. In the stores. At the bank. In your home. Everyday. All the time. For a few days (or weeks) it is fine, but as a certain point it becomes a real strain. I talked to some folks who have taken in as many as 10 people. Image you home for the next five months with ten more people living there. Imagine every drive you make around town taking twice as long, Until Christmas.

Once again, it is important to stress, the story I am telling here is the story of one community. I have no knowledge of what has happened in other parts of the region. I assume much of the story is the same, but I don’t know that for sure.
After Landfall
After the storm came pouring through the work here began. They lost all services here (phone, power), but they knew evacuees where coming. So they did it old school. They drove from friends house to friends house saying, “We are going to meet at this time, here, to talk about what we are going to do.”
By Wednesday people were starting to arrive in great numbers. At this point there was not outside help. No government. No Red Cross. No nothing. Just a local community, with evacuees coming. An just like every hurricane which came before, the local community put their heads and hearts together to start doing the work that needed to be done.
At first, they needed a place to stay and showers. So the local community opened the civic center, and the field house at the college. They built showers. Make shift showers wherever they were needed. For two days around the clock they build showers.
They needed food. At first people cooked at home, then they opened the kitchen at the civic center. Three meals a day. Three GOOD meals a day were shared.
They needed to talk to loved ones. The locals just walked around with their cell phones. Handing them to anyone who needed to make a call.
The Magnitude of the Situation
By Friday it was starting to become clear how bad it was on the Gulfcoast. People would not be going home soon. So my friends put their heads together to decide how they could help. At this point, there were two types of people, those in homes of friends and families and those in shelters. It seemed those in the shelters had the most pressing need. So “Project Starfish” was born. You know the story…
The Starfish Story
adapted from The Star Thrower by Loren Eiseley 1907 – 1977
Once upon a time, there was a wise man who used to go to the ocean to do his writing. He had a habit of walking on the beach before he began his work.
One day, as he was walking along the shore, he looked down the beach and saw a human figure moving like a dancer. He smiled to himself at the thought of someone who would dance to the day, and so, he walked faster to catch up.
As he got closer, he noticed that the figure was that of a young man, and that what he was doing was not dancing at all. The young man was reaching down to the shore, picking up small objects, and throwing them into the ocean.
He came closer still and called out “Good morning! May I ask what it is that you are doing?”
The young man paused, looked up, and replied “Throwing starfish into the ocean.”
“I must ask, then, why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?” asked the somewhat startled wise man.
To this, the young man replied, “The sun is up and the tide is going out. If I don’t throw them in, they’ll die.”
Upon hearing this, the wise man commented, “But, young man, do you not realize that there are miles and miles of beach and there are starfish all along every mile? You can’t possibly make a difference!”
At this, the young man bent down, picked up yet another starfish, and threw it into the ocean. As it met the water, he said, “It made a difference for that one.”
Sending them home
My friends decided the best thing they could do was to help people out of the shelter and find a way to a home. A home of friends or family or kind hearted strangers. They needed to get people off of air mattresses in a room with 900 other people and into a home.
One person and one family at a time, they started finding places for people to go. They collected information about family and friends. They found a way to contact them. Then they started moving people. At no cost to any of the evacuees they started moving them to homes. Found busses and vans and cars that would move people for free. They bought gas for families who just needed a few bucks to get to the next state. They bought plane tickets.
After 9 days they had moved over 700 people (of the 1500 in the shelter) to homes. They moved people all over the country and all over the world. They were able to get a family to Greece and the Philippines. All without help from the state or national government, or the Red Cross. They found money and resources from the local community and their friends around the US.
Example, my friends run a ministry called Adore International. Because their offices are in Thibedoux, they did not have power for close to a week, so “Mike’s Stake House” closed it back room and it became the head quarters for Project Starfish.
Other small steps
The whole community has pitched in, with what they can do best. I spent yesterday in the shelter and it was an amazing thing. Five main areas where set up.
1) Sleeping: the two big main halls were converted to sleeping quarters. The floor is covered with mattresses where people now call home.
2) Information: The lobby is home to all the information. Messages from around the country. FIMA. School Supplies. Pick up point for rides to work, schools, DMV, and bank. If you have a question, some in the lobby will have the answer.
3) Food: The kitchen fed up 2000 people a meal.
4) Medical: Three of the side rooms have become the medical center, providing everything from first aide to eye exams.
5) Clothing: Two rooms have all the clothing, baby formula, and toiletries. A guest at the shelter places an order in the lobby and a shopper goes back into the room to find what is needed. Clothing poured in all day yesterday and was sorted by type and size so it was easy.
Again, all of this was set up by the local community. I know I have said this a few times, but it is a very important fact (which will become more important in a following post).
The Perfect Metaphor
The Starfish Story is the prefect story for the work that I saw yesterday. Not just the work of getting people home, but all of the help. The local volunteers looked every person in the eye to do what ever they could for them. Each problem was different and needed to be solved on it own. One at a time. In that moment. They helped with joy and passion. Without a complaint. Anything they could do they did. A few examples:
There is a woman who spent the whole day just working with the sheets for beds. She made sure every set was a match set. She found mattress pads and dust ruffles for people who were staying in homes. She made sure the pillowcases matched the sheets and matched the blankets. It was not enough to give a family sheets, but nice sheets that looked like home. It wasn’t just about a problem, but about dignity.
There was a women who came in yesterday with a premi baby. The baby needed a very special formula. Anna made it here mission to find it. “She has to have this formula!” In the end I just went a bought some after a 4 hour search through the supplies.
One of the evacuees is deaf. No one spoke sign. A local man was found, who came and spent the whole afternoon with one young man to make sure he was taken care of. They created a whole system just make sure he was safe and at home.
All day, everywhere you turned around someone was picking up one starfish and throwing back into the sea.
After ten days there are still thousands of starfish on the beach, but many have made back into the sea, and it has made a big difference.
Must get dressed to get to the shelter. Many more details to come…

Here is the first installment of, best picture I can paint of the area I am in. At this point, I have no idea if this is typical in the rest of Louisiana or the rest of the gulf coast. This is just the story of one small town.
Details of the work that is being done here will posted tonight.
Houma
I am in Houma, LA. Houma is located about 110 miles South West of New Orleans. When you tell people from LA that you are going down to Houma they will say, “They are really Cajuns down there.” It is the only place I have visited in the US where after 3 days I could still not understand the locals, because they still speak Cajun French. This area is the home of the kindest, gentlest people I have ever met. If you are lucky you will get them to cook and sing for you.
The loss
If you have seen any of the news coverage at all, you understand that there are so many layers to the problems that have occurred. This is going to be an over simplification, but it is the picture in very big stokes that have been painted for me.
Types of loss:
1) Life: Many have lost there lives to the storm and the stress that has followed. It will be months before this number will be known.
2) Housing: The loss of housing ranges from the homes in Mississippi that are gone (with nothing left, but a foundations) to the homes that have been damaged slightly, but can not be returned to for months because of the infrastructure problems. At this point, two weeks out, there are tens of thousands of people who do not know the condition of there homes.
3) Work: Many people are out of work because there communities are so heavily damaged or distorted. Some who work for large companies have heard from their home offices that they have been laid off indefinably, while others may never hear from their employers again. Many of the people who have evacuated to friends and family have started looking for work in there new “home”.
4) School: This seems to be one of the systems that have worked the best in meeting people’s needs. For those who have been displaced to families or shelters there have been schools with open arms. Most of the Catholic schools in the four or five state area (and really all over the US) have waived all fee. I know the kids here in the shelters have been enrolled in local schools and get bussed there everyday. Most college students who have wanted to return to school for the semester have been able to transfer with little trouble, with registration being extended in to the term.
Places people have landed
As far as I can tell, there have been three basic story lines of those who have been displaced.
1) Friends and family: There are hundreds of thousands of people who left the effected area and went right into the homes of friends and family. Some as close as a few hours away, while others have gone cross country. In talking to friends all over the region, to have 5 – 10 new house guests (for what could be months) is not uncommon. I have a friend who’s home was in Biloxi is staying with his mother. There are 15 people staying in the house.
2) Shelter to friends and family: Over the first 10 days after the storm, many people ended up in shelters and from there they were able to contact friends and family. Then, with some help, they were able to get to friends and family. (more details in the section on the work that is going on here.
3) Shelter: There are still tens of thousands who are still in shelter who have not been able to contact loved one, who at this point have no where to go.