Ken's words from CSz forums

Tuesday 18th
As is the case for my co-volunteer, JR, I am being deployed by the Red Cross. I am leaving for New Orleans on Wednesday morning. I think a flight at 7:00 a.m. qualifies as a 'red eye.' My deployment is to drive an Emergency Response Vehicle (ERV). It's a mobile feeding unit that is symbolic of the Red Cross. You typically see them at fires (and such) feeding emergency responders as well as clients. I don't know if I will have a route (taking hot food to clients) or set up at a specific location (clients coming over for hot food). The Red Cross sent the national ERV fleet down to New Orleans soon after Katrina struck. Since they pretty much all arrived at the same time, the crews finish deployment at about the same time as well. That sets into motion a request for a couple hundred ERV drivers. I did my ERV training about 10 days ago here in Vancouver. It turned out to be a timely class to take. It is interesting that in 'normal' times, Red Cross training for disaster services takes 12-18 months (and requires 'experience' at the local level). Some classes, like the ERV, get offered once a year. Other classes, once a quarter or so. In response to this series of disasters, the training process is measured in days or weeks. Wish me luck! My return date is November 9th. I'll miss the Farm Team Shows, being a DIP WAD on Saturday, and the workshops. Actually, I miss the people in each of them the MOST.

Monday the 24th
Here's the status...

I am in a staff shelter in some small Louisiana town that I cannot pronounce or spell. The local folks have been most helpful with my education. Across from the church is a small Internet Cafe with three computers. None of the Red Cross folks seem to want computer time (or they have not found it yet).

The shelter is in the St. Thomas Methodist Church gym. I guess that tonight, there will be 50 something here. It changes every night. This is my third shelter and finally where I call home (as in used the air mattress). The church members are taking good care of use too. We have a drop off laundry service! That is the envy of all shelters. Also, they cook wonderful meals a few nights a week. Last night, the Boy Scouts fed us some Dutch oven strew.

Our living conditions are a contrast to the city. I have an assignment working at a drive up distribution center on Orleans Ave. In New Orleans. It is at the Civic Auditorium and across the street from the infamous looted Winn-Dixie store. There is NO power or water in this section of the city. It is a mess. I can't believe what I see and smell every day. We hand out food, water, diapers, cleaning supplies, Red Cross bad jokes, and smiles to people from 10-3 every day. We run out of supplies (four larger truck loads DAILY) before we run out of clients needing help.

People we see and give items to are often living in their cars. Each day new people say they are returning for the first time. The storm hit almost two months ago now. Can you imagine leaving home for a short stay for a storm to pass and being faced with returning to nothing.

Yesterday, I asked a man if he needed cleaning supplies. He said; "Man, my house is gone." "There's nothing left to clean!" I got off the line for a minute to recompose.

There is no way to describe what is going on here in this city every day. I will know that once the story fades from the hot news of the day, there will still be people in the Site 12 line looking for food and water (and NOT needing cleaning supplies) because: "There's nothing left to clean!"

This Bulk Distribution site has been up and running for a month now. It may be here for months longer. It is strange to leave every day and see NOTHING happening to clean up this part of the city (just a fact not a political statement). The traffic signals are still dark. Stop signs on tri-pods replace them. The flooded cars in the Winn-Dixie parking lot have not been moved. Nobody even looks at them!

Red Cross volunteers cannot tell what day of the week it is. My guess is that our clients are in the same boat. Every day is the same (but new) routine.

The medical staff will not allow us to wear our shoes into the shelter as they are feared contaminated. I was told to leave all my clothes here and buy new one upon departure.

Back to business is not at all normal. Open restaurants have a limited menu. We have been handed a sheet of paper at an Applebees in Covington for example. Every place has signs looking for help. There is nobody left to help. The 24-hour Wal-Mart closes at 8:00 p.m. now.

Many of the rules we expect to see are gone. Trucks park on the Interstate to convoy up overnight. Anyone in our line that even raises a voice is met with a swam of Federal Agents to ensure they are calm. Our site has an escape truck that we are all briefed on. It is a necessary thing to know; what to do if all hell breaks loose. Get out and let the police handle it. Speaking of police, I have not yet seen an NOPD officer in anything but jeans and a t-shirt; there are no uniforms.

My time is expiring and the cafe is closing. More later.

Ken
_________________

I got to talk to Ken tonight for about 20 minutes. He said that it is near impossible to get cell signal where he is. He seemed in fair spirits but very tired given his long days. I feel better having talked to him and hearing the personal satisfaction in his voice and words as he told of his work. The way things are run don't seem right or efficient but he is doing his Kennest to get the job done.