I want you to make a list in your head of the most important things in your life. This list probably contains your family, friends, pest, home, and security. What would you do if you lost it all? Than k God most of us will never be faced with that question in real life. We will never have to lose everything we love with no chance of getting it back. Monday night Mom told me that I was supposed to help out my aunt at the Salvation Army center in our county. They are responsible for all of the relief efforts for most of our state. I was a little upset at first. I really wanted to just come home and relax after school. I had no desire to work like a borrowed dog and for no pay. Mom explained that since she and JJ both have to work, the duty fell to me. It was my job to contribute on behalf of our family. I wasn’t happy about giving up my afternoon, but I agreed to help out. I didn’t know a whole lot about what had happened in New Orleans. I knew there had been a hurricane and that the damage was bad, but had no idea the extent. I didn’t know how many people had been displaced from their homes, lost everything, or even who were still trapped in their homes waiting for assistance. I had no sense of the horrible events that had and are taking place. I get out of school around 12:30. Mom was running late and managed to get there around 12:45. I was eager to get this volunteering out of the way. I ate half a sandwitch on the drive over to the church that is the center of operations for the hurricane relief here. As we pulled in, we were greeted by volunteers. They directed us where to park. We grabbed our bag of donations, a mix of toiletries that ahd never been used. We walked in and were greeted by an elderly man in uniform. A woman helped us find my aunt. Mom left. My aunt looked tired and her voice was hoarse from talking too much. She was not nearly as cheerful as she normally is. I signed in and got a name tag. The next orientation wasn’t until one, but there were two new volunteers there so my aunt gave us the short version of the normal speech. People were constantly streaming through the door. They were given a clip-board and filled out the papers on it. My aunt told us the rules and gave us the tour. She showed us the over-stock room which was stacked to the ceiling with diapers and boxes. She took us to the break room which had been generously filled with pop, water, and snacks for the volunteers. I followed along in the rear, taken aback by the number of people there. I tried to remember some geometry, and I could swear that Loisiana was at least a state or two away. I couldn’t understand why we had so many refuees. WE then reached the main room. The process went like so. First the people registered in the front, signing in and listing number of members in their party, and any special needs. They were then directed one of two places…the counseling center where those who had lost members of their family or who were severely traumatized went, or the commons area. There they were served snacks, lemonade, and further help was available. There were about 50 chairs in there, all of which were full. Next they were helped with housing and basic needs. They were given food and clothing stamps, and on the way out a shopping cart packed with things they needed. Each cart was full of food, toiletries, water, and any special needs things (school supplies, baby supplies, and any other special thing they needed). The back area was for volunteers only. A volunteer pushed the cart around to each of about 20 stations and filled it with the set amount of each thing (from the canned veggie table two cans of green beans and one of peas, from the pasta table, one package of pasta, one can of sauce, and either diced tomatoes or soup…etc). I was stationed at the pasta table first. I organized the table and helped people fill carts as they came by. After about 2 hours there, I moved to the toiletries area. Each cart received a bag containing the following; two large tubes of toothpaste, one small tube of children’s toothpaste, 4-6 toothbrushes, 2 rolls of dental floss, mouthwash, two sticks of deoderant (theoretically a male and female version), razors, shaving cream, shampoo, conditioner, 2 bars of soap, lotion, body wash, feminine hygiene products, small first aid kit, and some hair ties. I was the shampoo, conditioner, and lotion girl on the assembly line. AS boxes came in, it was my job to sort the shampoo, conditioner, and lotion into containers, and put one of each in the bags coming down the line. As the bags came down I would pick out matching shampoo and conditioned and a lotion and put them in the bag. One of the woman laughed and said “What are you doing? Just grap stuff and move one, who cares if they match.” I looked at her, and came to a sad realization, she was there for herself, not the thousands of refugees. That is all they were to her, charity cases, below her. I smiled and said “Well I know I would hate if I got strawberry shampoo and freisia conditioner.” She laughed again and went beck to her station. There were people and they deserved to be treated that way. I kept working until about 4. I was tired and my arms hurt. I told my supervisor that I was going to take a break. I went to the break room. I grabbed a granola bar and a coke and headed outside. They had set up chairs for smokers outside. The weather was nice so I decided to head on out. As I reached the small cluster of chairs I saw a few people there. There were three men. One man was tall and spoke with a thick accent. He had dreadlocks down to his waste and a thick accent. It sounded Jamaican, but turned out to be something els, which I can’t remember. He was from New Olrleans. He talked for awhile about what had happened and how he had gotten out just in time. The other man was a volunteer. He was older and had a goofy white mustache that was twisted up at the ends. He talked about how much he likes Georgia. At some point those two went inside. I was left sitting with the last man. He was about 6’2”, sandy blonde hair, bluish gray eyes, and had a muscular build. He was cute. I smiled at him and he smiled back. I must have looked like crap. I had spent all of 2 minutes getting ready that morning and it was hot out. I’m sure my make-up was messed up and my hair was wacky, but he smiled very warmly. I Introduced myself. His name was Matt. His last name was weird, sounded German maybe. I asked him where he was from. He had lived just east of New Orleans. I noticed then how tired he looked. His clothes fit a little funny. His pants were too big, his shirt was too small, and his shoes looked like they were new. His eyes were red and looked like he hadn’t slept in days. He had a few days worth of hair growing on his cheeks. He had very pretty features. His jaw was very square, he had a nose like Josh (my brother), and his eyes were amazing. He told me that he had worked construction, that they had been finishing some big office building, and that he had only been rescued 2 days ago. I sat there, soaking in what he was telling me. The day before my only contact with the disaster was the high gas prices and the news, now I was sitting a foot away from a man who had been there. I asked him about what had happened. The things I heard next broke my heart, and in all honesty shook my very faith. The day before Katrina hit the news reports were telling people to leave. Matt talked to his wife, and they agreed that they would leave that night when traffic wasn’t so bad. They had two little kids, a 2 yr old girl named Kiara, and a new baby who was 5 and ½ months named Jenny (I think). They didn’t want to have the girls sitting in traffic, especially in the hot weather. That night the reports said that the storm would miss them. Relieved Matt and his wife went to bed. The next morning he left early, he had to be at work by 5. Matt kissed his wife and kids before he left. At work they were doing something with plaster apparently. During their lunch break, word came that the hurricane was going to hit. Matt called his wife and told her to get out of town, and that he would meet her at a safe place. A friend also happened to be over and agreed to drive behind his wife to make sure things were ok. So Matt gets in his car and drives. Apparently traffic was deadly. When the storm hit he had to leave his car and find shelter. He and a few of his friends from work camped out in an empty house until they were rescued. Matt was rescued a few days later and brought to Atlanta. When he got here he found his wife’s friend. She had to tell him what had happened. His wife and kids had been hit by debris of some sort, and the car had been carried away in the water. They were dead. At this point Matt collapsed. He put his head in his hands and just sobbed. All I could do was hold him close and assure him that everything would be alright. This poor man had lost everything, and now had to start over in a strange place. It broke my heart to see this very manly man crying. He eventually stopped, and thanked me for listening. He had no desire to talk to a counselor, or someone who saw him as just another victim. He hugged me and said he had to get going. As he walked away, I could feel the tears I had been holding back burning my eyes. I held them back, and went back inside to help. When mom picked me up later, I finally cried for Matt and his family. I know that there is nothing I could ever do or say that would make any sense out of all the stuff that has happened, but I know that God’s hand pushed Matt and I together. I pray that Matt finds happiness again, and that he meets his family in heaven. I know I will never forget that man, or his story.
