Toast Anyone ?

Here’s to our last day at the Rebuild Center - to the staff, volunteers who give so much energy, understanding and love

Here’s to the guest who struggle to survive day by day, sometimes hour by hour to maintain their dignity, their humanness

Here’s to those who donate their time, energy, talent to make the place a warm and welcoming one

Here’s to those who shared their knowledge and experience with us, helping us to understand -to question just why places like the Center need to exist and what our response needs to be

Here’s to the Sisters of Notre Dame who allowed us to stay in their home while they were away, giving us a comfortable place to return to in order to become refreshed and renewed

Here’s to Dan and the workers of the Catholic Worker’s House who mirror for us gospel values everyday in every way – how many people do you know who would offer a retreat for the homeless

Here’s to the men in Winn Dixie, the ‘big wigs’ who we happen to run in to who went above and beyond the call of duty with their friendliness and helpfulness

Here’s to Sister Ruth and her ability to navigate the streets of New Orleans – no small feat my friends

Here’s to Sister Claire, usually mild mannered and soft spoken, who learned that if she lowered her voice she could project loud enough for the guest to hear her as she called their name for the use of the phones

Here’s to Sister Dolores who really likes Butter Snap Pretzels

Here’s to Amanda, our NDA senior, who shared her energy with us and kept us smiling. But, really Amanda, the ‘old’ jokes got a little old real fast

Here’s to team work, cooperation, good humor that allowed things to work so well

Here’s to a safe trip home, good weather and awake drivers

Here’s to our God who manifests herself in so many glorious ways and allows us to be a creative part in the eternal scheme of things. Yeah, God – nice work!

Here’s to the fact that I did not lift a glass after every toast – at least not yet

So, what did today bring....?

Honestly sometimes I'm so tired I can't remember - but...

I helped Brian and Horace in the showers today. Okay, I wasn’t in the shower with Brian and Horace but I help them by cleaning the shower after it was used and providing towels, soap, etc. for the guests. There are ten shower stalls all together or maybe they are saunas in disguise. Can’t imagine trying to dry off in the heat and humidity trapped in those small compartments.
Horace is a guest that seems to help out around the Center whenever he can. Today he was sitting writing for a while. Finally he handed me two papers and told me he wanted me to have them. They were two prayers that he wrote. One prayed that God would give all doctors and surgeons the knowledge they needed to heal the sick. Now most of you probably know what has been going on with Jerry and his arm but I didn’t tell Horace. I don’t know if he knew or how he knew or didn’t know at all but his prayer certainly hit the nail on the head for me. So much so that it’s kind of scary.

After lunch today we took a driving tour with Sister Enid as our tour guide. We drove over to the Lower Ninth Ward. This was the area where there was so much devastation and death due to a barge breaking loose and breaking through the levee. Interesting to see the effort to rebuild. We saw the houses financed by Brad Pitt and Ophra. Houses each painted in bright colors. The design of the houses was all the same but they were made home by the individual colors and landscaping. Bright, bold colors – I look at these homes and realize that we (whoever ‘we’ are) have missed out on a sense of freedom of expression. We’re not the ones who are free folks – at least not when it comes to expression of exuberance.

And then….the rain, rain, rain came down, down, down ……for quite a while. It began while we were still driving back to the center. It was raining so hard that we sat in the parking lot for about 15 minutes hoping it would ease up – no such luck. We finally got out of Sr. Enid’s van and into our rental. We did not manage to run between the rain drops. We headed towards the gate of the parking lot when we realized that the street we needed to turn on to was flooded. Cars were passing on it with water up over the wheels. It had to be getting in on the floor of the cars. So we waited a while longer finally venturing out hoping for the best.

Home to a night of leftovers. Needing to clean out the refrigerator. Thinking about the adventure coming to a close. Hoping for good weather on Saturday when our journey once again takes us home. (of course that will include a stop in Birmingham for a game of musical cars.)

Okay, the computer just started doing something goofy so I’m hoping this posts correctly – if not, good luck! Otherwise - Good Night!

It was a slow day ?

Not many people at the Rebuild Center today. No one could give a reason for it. Just wasn’t a crowd. The showers and the phones and the laundry were busy but not totally overwhelmed all day.

We did have a 3 piece band come in and play for a couple of hours – great blues. We did have one person pass out and need an ambulance. We did serve a little over 100 lunches. We did sit and listen to the director for over an hour as he told us of the beginnings and development and vision of the Center. We did come home tired and beat once again and a little overwhelmed at the people who crosses our paths.

This evening we fixed a couple of pans of lasagna, some carrots, bread and desserts and headed to another part of town to visit a Catholic Worker House. One of the start up guys use to work at the Center as a Jesuit Volunteer and he has stopped by on Monday to do a prayer service with the people at the center who might be interested. We talked for a little while and then invited ourselves for supper.

There were 13 of us around the table – 14 if you count 6 month old Micah, who parents are part of the team there. A very simple house with a very big idea behind it – hospitality to the homeless.

There were about 2-3 guest living there. There were a couple of men from the neighborhood who just dropped in for supper. Everyone was very welcoming. Everyone felt at home. We listened to stories of what it was like to live through Katrina, to be evacuated, to be brought back to start over – no job, no home, not much hope. We saw how these people supported one another. We saw grass root efforts at work. We saw young people responding to the needs of others in the spirit of Dorothy Day. Young people full of hope, vision, energy and youthful dedication. We saw the hope of our future.

In the words of Dorothy Day: "The final word is love."

Feed the Hungry, Clothe the naked...

,…… give showers to the hot, stinky people. Wait, I don’t remember reading that last one anywhere. But that is what we did yesterday and today at the Rebuild Center. Well, okay, we didn’t give them showers but we made it possible for them to take showers – 103 of them. (I learnt that your do not want to stand downwind from a person using spray deodorant.) Others of us made it possible for people to make phone call anywhere in the US. We helped serve lunch, Folded towels, Handed out razors and combs, Sweated like little pigs in 100+ temps. (Do pigs really sweat? – I don’t remember that from my life on the farm – was that just last year?)

But all is well!

I can say that because I’m not homeless, or living on the streets or suffering from mental illness. It is interesting to cross paths with people who are. Makes you appreciate what you have. Makes you wonder why you have, and they have not. Makes you wonder how they cope with their situations and if you could do the same. Makes you wonder about their stories and how they got to where they are. Makes you wonder if the government couldn’t do more to help out such people. Makes you wonder about the young adult volunteers who show up every day to serve these people. Makes you wonder about the adults who show up year after year to serve these people. Makes you wonder about hurricanes and natural disasters that put people in this situation or drive them over the edge. Just makes you wonder….

Ah, Sunday....

I wish I could say I slept well Saturday night but the mind would not slow down and being in a strange place made for a restless night.
But Sunday morning came as usual and we headed off to church at St. Leo and St. Raymond Parish, just about 1/4-1/2 mile away from where we are staying. We had gone there last year so I entered in anticipation. The minister of hospitality greeted us with a kiss. The parish is comprised mostly of black folk. The priest is also black. The choir was the youth choir. There was a visiting priest there to preach on behalf of a mission. This priest happened to be the one who was in on the ground floor of the establishing of the Rebuild Center where we would be working for the rest of the week.
The next two hours were filled with a hand clapin’, foot stompin’, body swayin’ music and Amens and Alleluias. The pastor was alive with the spirit as was every man, woman and child present. Such freedom of verbal and physical expression is a wonder to behold.
The music was fantastic. Us white folk who get antsy after 2 verses of a song have a lot to learn. The songs lasted up to 5-10 minutes. The keyboardist was totally into his work/praise. (I could see brother-in-law Len sitting there being just as passionate about the music – I wanted to hear more.) The teenagers were totally into their song/praise. The people would stand in praise. Get the feeling that there was a lot of praising going on? Right On !
One particular man stood through almost every song turned toward the choir with hands raised cheering them on. Turns out this guy is a MBA coach who was visiting his home parish and getting ready to conduct a basketball camp this coming week. You could see him cheering on his team like he was cheering on the choir. (I’ll try to remember to look up is name if I can get on to the internet.)
The celebrant also had no problem departing from the structure of the liturgy to inject his enthusiasm. He speaks with his words, his hands, his whole body.

There was a woman there who was celebrating her 88 birthday. Before the final blessing everyone sang Happy Birthday to her. I have never heard that version of Happy Birthday – it lasted 5 minutes.
If you’re ever in New Orleans consider going to St. Raymond and St. Leo the Great Parish for liturgy.
This parish really knows how to celebrate!!
As we were leaving I noticed a rug at the door. As you enter the church it reads; ‘Enter to Pray’ When you leave; ‘Leave to Serve’
Once again it was good to be there – witnessing the people giving a new meaning to the word Celebrate.
“Let the People of God say – Amen !!”

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to......

To New Orleans…….So there is this Mission Trip that a few of the Sisters of Notre Dame did last year to New Orleans and they decided to repeat the trip again this year. There is a day shelter open daily from 8-2. The shelter provides services like showers, laundry, legal advice, medical services, help in getting an ID, providing a mailing address, etc. If you are really interested I am sure I blogged about this last year. Okay, so Yes, I am once again on this mission trip with three sisters and a student from Notre Dame Academy.

We left Covington on Saturday morning. 5:15 a.m. was our target. We started the van exactly at 5:16. Pretty good. We had a seven passenger van from the convent. We each had a piece of luggage, there were a few snacks and the rest of any available space was filled with donations for the Center.

Merrily we rolled along. Homemade blueberry muffins for breakfast in the car. Yummm. We ate our packed lunch at a rest area in AL. Back in the car - and my turn to drive again.

Shortly after we left the rest area traffic slowed to a crawl, a 5mph stop and go crawl. This lasted for about 45 minutes before it broke loose. As I tried to accelerate the steering wheel began to vibrate like crazy – it stopped and it began again.

Time to pull over. There was an exit ahead. Exit 289. Ok, that will have to do. Oh, but wait, what is that over there by the lone gas station? Why, it’s a D.Q. (See, there is a God.) Pulled into a parking spot got out to walk around the car and, my goodness, the front left tire well is smoking. It’s not suppose to do that. The others said that it smelled awful. However, not being able to smell a thing, I didn’t notice that.

So…., the convent just signed on to a car service deal. A couple of 800 # phone calls later by Sister Ruth, our fearless leader, two hours sitting in the D.Q., milk shakes all around, and an unbelievable effort to coordinate things, we found out that; a) the car would have to be towed into Birmingham (45 minutes away), b) they would send a cab for us, from Birmingham (we reminded them that there were 5 of us and many things in the van) c) they would arrange a rental car for us ( reminded them that there were five of us and many things in the van). So we waited……..

Thing is that were we were did not seem to have a name. Come on, every D.Q. is in some town or another – apparently not. The cab could not fine us. The tow truck could not fine us. More phone calls. More waiting. Thank God we were not on the road somewhere. Heat index = well over 100.

Eventually our knights in shinning tow truck & cab arrive – okay, forget the shinning part. The cab was a very dirty van. Didn’t feel too comfortable sitting in it but we did because it was our ride to the car rental place at the Birmingham Airport – 45 minutes away.

Arrived at the car rental place. Talked to the person behind the desk. Our car was to be found in space # 42 – ah, 42, the answer to life, the universe and everything. Good Omen.

Well, a little white corolla was sitting under the # 42. Can’t be right! Back to the friendly lady behind the desk about a block away. Oh, was her reply, just press the panic button on the key. It will be sitting in the slot next to #42. Back to the garage. Presses the panic button – nothing happened! Oh, come on! Sister Ruth walked all over the garage looking for the van we were to rent. Finally, two rows over and 12 cars down….

However, it was a 5 passenger SUV. Oh, come on! So the next 5 hours we traveled with 5 adults in five seat belts. That was a little tight. Sister Claire took the middle hump seat in the back, God bless her. By the time we added all out things we were not only 5 people in 5 seat belts but each adult, except for the driver, had things sitting around their feet and on their laps.

Our 13 hour trip to New Orleans was finally over after 17 ½ hours. Needless to say we were (are) exhausted. Some wonderful sisters from the neighborhood brought some food over for us to get us through the night.

Bottom line is that it could have been a lot worst (of course it could have been a lot better). The van is now fixed and sitting in Birmingham waiting for us to pick it up on our way home. In the mean time there are still 5 adults in 5 seat belts. But we are in New Orleans. We go to the Center tomorrow to do what we came to do.

All’s well that ends well!

Amanda’s (NDA student) summary of the day goes something like this - we packed the van, we unpacked the van, we packed the van, we unpacked the van, we packed the cab, we unpacked the cab, we packed the SUV, we unpacked the SUV. And she is RIGHT!

The Tale of Two Passes

Nothing is simple – that has been one of my mantras for many years.

This past Thursday Jerry and I left for just one more fun trip. We headed down
to Red River Gorge for a couple days of camping with friends. We had been there
is April for our annual spring flower hunt weekend. At that time we got there
on a Wednesday, off season rates were still in effect until Friday night – off
season rates = $7.00. What a deal! And with my trusty Senior Citizen National
Park Pass the first two nights were only $3.50. On Friday the rates when up to
the in-season rate of $22. For a double site – but wait, with that same little
pass our rates (for being old) was $22./night. Yes!

This time we got there on Thursday, paid for three nights – same pass/same price
– total $33.– at least that is what you’d think. We were told by the campground
hosts that the pass wasn’t accepted there – mind you, the same campground,
actually the same site as the month before. We were told we could pick up a
Golden Age Card at the nearby information center at Gladie Creek. Well worth
our while- we’d still get ½ price. So, good friend, Karen and I head there
about a 40 minute drive through the Gorge. Nice scenery but I’m beginning to
dislike the narrow road in my old age. When we get to the Information Center we
were told in fact, that we did not need the Golden Age Card and that the NPP
(National Park Pass) card was accepted. A mistake had been made. Okay, that’s
cool. Saved myself $10. So when we get back to the camp site #1 campground
host stops by, apologizes and said that the #2 host had made a mistake. After a
very confusing conversation I wasn’t convinced that we had the right card so a
day later Jerry and I went back to the information center to get the Golden Age
Card which we were told could be used in places through the country where the
NPP was not accepted. When we get there for the 2nd time and after talking to 3
different people it was decided that the Golden Age Card no longer existed and
the program was absorbed into the NPP program. How totally crazy! Hopefully
our experienced help straighten things out a little so on one else will be as
confused as we were most of the weekend. But don’t get me wrong – the
campground hosts are really good, friendly and really hard working people. The
really do their best to make your stay an enjoyable one. Someday we want to be
campground host too!

The rest of the weekend looked something like: good friends & family, perfect
weather, good food, guy hike, girl walk/run, cold drinks, campfires, good fire
wood, marshmallows, nice neighbors, 2 very impressively large black snakes,
bees/wasps/ants in the camper, sunrises, stars at night, visit to the frog pond,
a few drops of rain one night, a couple of good hikes, mountain laurel, tulip
popular in bloom, lady slippers, clean outhouses, did I mention Good Friends?

Nothing is simple – but it’s all good!