Finally

My phone rang Friday afternoon. My caller ID told me that it was a local call. I answered. Charlie identified himself and said hello. I pretended to know who it was, when in actuality I had no clue. I had spoken with a Charlie earlier in the week, a man who works as a Personal Assistant to the St. Bernard Parish President, Junior Rodriguez. I thought it had to be him. But, as he went on about how he finally moved into his house, I was even more confused. “Who the heck is this?”, I kept asking myself while Charlie continued about how nice it is to finally be moved in. Then, it hit me. Oh, Charlie!

I smiled.

All of a sudden this phone call went from frustratingly confusing to captivating and enjoyable. "Charlie, you’re in your house? That’s awesome."

I met Charlie shortly after arriving here, while working with Project Hope. I spent an afternoon helping out at his then-gutted home (see pic above right, Charlie and I outside his house on March 1), watching a volunteer named Hopper jump around like a gymnast through the cross beams in the ceiling making sure they had enough support up there. The entire house was studs and old copper wire. Charile, meanwhile, was full of optimism that day. He told me about his life, his son, and his wife. She passed away last year after going into the hospital with appendicitis. I’m murky on the details, as Charlie doesn’t say much more than that she had complications after surgery and died. He told me, though, how he promised her while she was still alive and in the hospital that no matter what, he’d have their son in a house before too long. They had lived for years in trailers before Katrina. A tree sliced their trailer in half during the storm. They since lived with Charlie’s brother, sometimes with as many as 11 people in that house.

Finally, a house was on the way. Charlie bought it last year. Like a lot of other people here, he bought it for a cheap price, and now just has to fix it up. (“Just”, by the way, is a relative term. “Just” fixing up around here usually means exhausting whatever savings one has while waiting on money from the government that may or may not come). He was brimming with optimism and hope and excitement that day. That was in early March. I saw him a couple of times in the following week or two, as well, still full of excitement as his house progressed.

Then things just went dark. I hardly saw Charlie anymore. Volunteers would sometimes be working at his house, and I went by to see the sheetrock up, the walls forming. It was starting to look like a home. I really did look forward to seeing him and his 13 year old boy, CJ, get in there. But then I came to find out that Charlie came down with double pneumonia. He was in and out of the hospital twice, and on an unpaid leave of absence from work. I would hear, second-hand, how he was doing every few weeks or so, but that was it. Every time I drove by his house there was no one there, the front door shut, the driveway empty. Not even scraps or junk or garbage, all signs of a house actively under repair around here, in the front yard.

Finally, two weeks ago, I saw him. I went by his brother’s house to meet Hopper there, and Charlie was pulling out of the driveway, in his truck, CJ in the passenger seat. He looked worn out. Always so eager to chat my ear off, Charlie was short that day. He was sick again, and at the time it looked as if he might have to go back into the hospital. I wished him well, told him I’ll hope for the best, and that I’ll be here when he moves in. Then he drove away.

His brother told me later in that visit that he wasn’t doing well at all. It’s been a struggle. He has no income, things with his house are on hold, and he’s battling this pneumonia. Meanwhile, seven of them are still crammed into one home. I used to be so happy when I thought about Charlie. Now I felt terrible for him.

And then on Friday, about 4 p.m., my phone rang. I didn’t even know Charlie had my number – although I know and work with a lot of the people who help him out, so it’s not shocking he got it. I was just surprised. But when I had finally put two and two together, I was thrilled. “Scott, we’re finally in. It’s not done and really close to where I want it to be, but it’s livable,” he told me. I must have said “that’s awesome” at least five times. I asked him if he’d be around on Saturday, I wanted to come see it. He said sure and to stop by.

It’s amazing what serves as progress here, in this region that was torn to shreds by Mother Nature. I knocked on his door Saturday afternoon. Charlie opened it and welcomed me in, and as I made my way through the door all I could see in the living room was an air mattress, a pack of cigarettes, and a projector that plays DVDs. He was watching Castaway, with Tom Hanks. Charlie used to go on and on about how he was going to have a big screen projector for him and his son to watch movies on. Well, he has it. Unfortunately, he doesn't have much more.

An air conditioning unit was in one of the windows, blowing a healthy dose of cold air and cooling the entire front room. He had the windows covered, though, keeping out the extra heat. The floor is still concrete, no carpeting is down yet. The walls are painted, but there’s no molding or baseboard. His son came out from the back room. I had heard so much about him, but had never formally met him. CJ is a bit heavy like his dad, but extremely friendly. I looked around the house. Every room was the same as the others, no carpeting, and really no furniture. One of the bedrooms had a mattress on the floor, but Charlie told me they’re both sleeping on the one air mattress in the living room because it has AC. He didn’t care about the living conditions, he had just had enough sharing a small house and imposing on his brother. So long as there was electricity, running water and walls, he was moving in.

Charlie’s been through a lot. He lost his home, then his wife, and fought health issues of his own. Even CJ, all of 13 years old, just passed his second kidney stone (Charlie said he’s on his 12^th right now). He’s says he’s better now, and that he’s going back to work Monday. That’s great. With income he’ll be able to move a little faster in getting the house fixed up. CJ kept interjecting, with a smile, how he hopes it also means he can finally get a computer. Charlie would just look at him and say he will someday, but that for now it’s lower on the priority list.

Small steps, even if it means sharing an air mattress on a concrete floor, mean everything to the people down here. I told Charlie to call me again, that I’ll come back and see his next steps, no matter how big or small. And next time, I’m sure I’ll know who he is when he says it’s Charlie.

Dark Skies

It rains a lot here right now. I really don’t care to study or learn about the seasonal weather patterns of Louisiana, but I know this, it does rain often here, just about everyday, and when it does, it rains HARD. I lived in Florida for a total of seven years in the 1990s, so afternoon thunderstorms during the summer are nothing new to me. But when the clouds move in here (sometimes it’s in the morning, actually, and sometimes it’s in the afternoon), they dump a ton of rain. Some of the roads turn into rivers. (If they don’t get the sewer and drainage system fixed in St. Bernard Parish soon, I’d hate to see this place when a Tropical Storm rolls through).

I snapped some shots of the sky Thursday afternoon (click on them above for a better view). That type of cloud thickness and darkness isn’t uncommon here, but the tornado warnings that came with them today were. I didn’t see funnels, but check this link out for some great pictures:

http://blog.nola.com/times-picayune/2007/07/waterspout_over_lake_pontchart.html

Mind, Body, Spirit: I’ve met a lot of great, kind-hearted people here this year. Many of them have inspired me more than they realize. Someone I’ve recently spent some time getting to know, one of the St. Bernard Parish leaders, has managed to do not only that but also instill something else in me. I am now 100% convinced that a great mind and a positive mental outlook absolutely lead to a long, healthy and productive life.

More on this person another day.

Back In Town

Monday was my first day back in New Orleans after spending eight days in the Northeast visiting family and friends, and it struck me how affected I still get when I drive through certain areas or neighborhoods. Even after 5 months, I can’t shake it, the shock and frustration. The good thing is, even after a great trip, I was really happy to be back. Also, that frustration is what spurs me on to want to stay here and do more. Temporary as it may be, this is my home for now, and that’s exactly how I want it to be.

I’ve actually wondered before if others feel the same, even those who come here regularly. CNN’s Anderson Cooper was back here on Monday for what one of his engineers said was the 30^th time since Katrina. I think that’s great. The guy absolutely cares about what’s going on here, and while he comes to New Orleans to do a job he also comes because he’s passionate about its recovery. I was able to glean that from reading his book, but it was even better to see it up close. Myself and several other volunteers were able to meet him and talk about some general stuff for a minute or so, but when he wasn’t busy preparing for his show or answering phone calls from the home office in New York, Cooper made a point to walk around and see a few of the houses, and talk to residents. Which is exactly what he should do. They are the story and they’re the ones all of us, from volunteers like me to members of the media like Cooper, need to care about. Ironically, Cooper’s show that night did focus on, amongst other things, a couple from Washington, D.C. who are down here volunteering. They started the St. Bernard Project, which rebuilds and rehabs homes, and they’re making a major impact in this community. I’ve worked with them and see it firsthand on a regular basis. So that aspect, volunteerism and the difference it makes, needs to be called out as well. In the end, though, it still all cycles back to helping people get back on their feet, and getting some semblance of a normal life again. CNN and Cooper, unlike other media outlets, at least help to keep that in the public eye.

(photos above, from l. to r. - CNN field engineer Michael Humphrey and volunteer Dave Cheung; Anderson Cooper readies to tape a segment; Les Scharfenstein, owner of the house where Cooper was broadcasting in front of, with his son Scott; people look on as Cooper tapes a segment to be used later in the evening).

….The St. Bernard Parish Council is at it again. On July 10, the council voted by a 4-2 margin to discontinue the service of distributing donated goods to the public and to turn over any remaining items to non-profits to give away. The main argument for those voting for the ordinance is that they want to free up the gym the program uses as well as Parish employees who help with the Donation Center so that they can focus on their regular jobs. I have not heard or read this since the July 10 Council Meeting, but in a Times-Picayune piece that ran prior to it, Council Member Judy Hoffmeister made another point, saying that it’s been “22 months since the storm” and that the distribution of donated items should be left up to the non-profit charities. The first point, freeing up Parish facilities for other use, is valid, but only to a point. Yes, get the Vista Gym back to where it’s providing what it was originally intended for, an athletic facility for kids and local teams to use. But that doesn’t mean that the Parish Government can’t still help take care of its community by finding another facility where residents can come and get items that they need. With a little drive and creativity, I’m sure a spot can be found. And Hoffmeister’s comments hold absolutely zero water. In fact, if anything, it’s downright absurd when you consider that many residents are in worse shape financially and otherwise than in the months immediately following the storm. While the government and insurance companies sit on their money, people have had to exhaust savings accounts, retirements accounts and any other resources they’ve had just to survive. People are spending money to rebuild homes or find homes that are livable, and in most cases, they’re not getting that money from the government. Hence, they are worse off. At least when the storm originally hit some people still had some money. So the argument that it’s 22 months later and it’s not our job to take care of residents anymore is ludicrous, and for anyone who spouts that line off, at any level of government, local, state or federal, it just shows you how out of touch they are with reality. The bottom line: it shouldn’t matter if it’s 1 month after the storm or 10 years, a need exists, and if the need exists, do something about it. I’ve worked at this Distribution Center, and a lot of people rely on it, people who I know don’t have money, who in some cases don’t have cars, and who in some cases don’t really have the means or ability to “find out” on their own what other charities may be giving out goods. It really is scary what this Council in St. Bernard Parish thinks and does sometimes.

….I saw former Chicago Bulls GM Jerry Krause the other day, and I had to say something. When I said to him, “you’re either Jerry Krause or someone who looks just like him,” he came back with a really curt “well, last time I looked in the mirror, I was him”. I wasn’t annoyed at all, I actually thought it was pretty funny. He works for the New York Mets and is in town to scout their Triple-A team, the New Orleans Zephyrs. He says he really likes what he’s doing now. I meant what I said when I told him I thought he did a heck of a job with those Bulls teams in the 90s. Yes, they had one of the best ever, but come on, in that city, with those egos, including their coach, he did a great job assembling a team and giving Jordan the parts that worked. I always liked him and his gruff, somewhat miserable attitude. After the other day, I still do.