Breeze Perspectives: Cleaning up after Katrina
Remembering the state of the Gulf, one year later
By Jeff Genota, contributing writer
Posted on August 31, 2006

“The work you’re doing is only a drop in the bucket, but we need every drop we can get,” said George Bates, coordinator of the Presbyterian Disaster Assistance in the Gulf Coast, operating out the offices of a slightly damaged Gulfport church. With the passing of the one-year anniversary of Hurricane Katrina this past Tuesday, many of those struggling are still waiting for able hands and caring hearts to come for them. Many complained and noted that the federal and state governments of Mississippi and Louisiana have abandoned them, yet their hopes are still alive and their welcoming arms are waiting.

I had the privilege of traveling to the Gulf Coast, first on Spring Break, and most recently on a week-long summer project last July. Words cannot describe how much devastation this once-vibrant region has faced; you just have to see it for yourself in order to have a heartfelt sympathy with the many affected residents of Louisiana and Mississippi. While the media and talking heads continuously focus on government failures, racism and bitterness, they ignore the realities on the ground.

I saw the devastation of the many businesses, homes, churches, fire stations and other infrastructure, and it was disheartening to imagine how this could all happen. But simply donating $10 wasn’t enough. I felt like using Spring Break as an opportunity to serve, so I was blessed to join 15 fellow JMU students on my March trip, and another 21 inter-generational volunteers from my local church in Northern Virginia on my July trip to give our time wholeheartedly and with joy to help rebuild and revive this region. As we labored through the unfavorable conditions of flesh-biting gnats and the burning rays of the sun, the locals had a great appreciation for what we did — and we were not going to give up on them.

While roofing on my trip in July, a middle-aged African-American, who had stayed in his home next door during the storm, came outside. When we took breaks, he would talk to us, sharing his story and repeatedly thanking us for our service. We had invited him to our end-of-the-week dinner banquet, and before he left, he spoke to all of us. Almost in tears, he told us, “you didn’t work on my roof, but you sure worked on my heart.”

On that same trip, one of our teams worked on a house of an elderly veteran nicknamed “Whitey,” who lived close to the shore, stayed alone and suffered from emphysema. On the first day, he refused to have his gutted and mold-spotted house worked on, and also showed signs of pursuing suicide. He balked, “I’m dying from emphysema anyway, so why bother?” The team followed his request to have his belongings removed from the house, but the next day he opened up and said “yes.” By the end of the week, he talked with the team and said an extraordinarily appreciative “thank you.”

The fact of the matter is the Gu;f will need people like you, faithful reader, as recovery for this region will take a considerable amount of time. Sure, it may be nice to have a moment of silence to commemorate this tragedy, but a better idea is to ask yourself, “What can I pour in this bucket?” You’ll never know, because your presence may be in their greatest hour of need. When they see you, they’ll be more than appreciative — they’ll love you back, and that definitely means more than a line on a résumé documenting your “volunteer experiences.”

Jeff Genota is a sophomore political science major, and encourages you to find time to take a trip to the Gulf.