My First Miracle

I witnessed the beauty of humanity and the ugliness of bigotry when Hurricane Katrina blew into town.  I was watching television just as the nation was when it became obvious that New Orleans had indeed been washed away.  I watched in horror as the days after the flooding were graphically displayed on national television. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it.  Each day I cried and each day I prayed that someone would do the right thing and rescue ‘our people.’ 

On the fifth day, I had all I could take.  As everyone else in town, I was involved in bringing clothes and toiletries to the civic center for the evacuees.  (I never called them refugees)  I had decided that I could no longer sit idle.  I needed to do something.  It was in my gut. It was breaking my heart.  I called to find out who the Homeland Security guy was for Webster Parish.  I was told it was John Stanley. Never heard of the guy. Never knew the guy. I called John Stanley and told him who I was and that I needed to do something. …something more than what was being done. I told him “I probably sound like a crazy woman to you but I promise you I’m not. I am a very good organizer and I really feel that not enough is being done in Minden and I thought I was the one that could do it.”  Little did I know that he had another woman who called in about the same time with the same sentiments.   It was my dear friend Jenny Reynolds. Jenny and I had been in business together prior to this but had not been in contact with each other and had no idea we were both feeling the same way.

 Within a matter of minutes, we were meeting with John Stanley at The Children’s Center. We spoke candidly with Mr. Stanley on that Saturday following the hurricane. We explained that we needed his support and backing and that we were prepared to do whatever it took to make this happen. We explained that we would take full responsibility. He didn’t hesitate.  And he in turn had gotten the approval of the Webster Parish Police Jury to allow us to proceed.  Jenny and I had also discussed this with our extremely supportive husbands who stood by us faithfully and offered their help time and time again.

Jenny called Wal-Mart and received permission to use the old Wal-Mart building free of charge. That same day we had the keys to the old Wal-Mart building with all utilities paid.  With different colored masking tape, we marked off the different departments and laid out the plans for our Relief Center.  We created fliers that spelled out what we were doing and what we would need.  We taped them to the doors of every church in Minden in time for Sunday service.  We announced that we would be open that Monday, Labor Day, to receive goods and to offer help and welcome volunteers.

We had our receiving stations set up. We had created a check in system for evacuees. We had our plan of action and now all we needed were volunteers and donated goods.  We had established almost without discussion that Jenny would be in charge of the office and general administration. I would be in charge of the volunteers and receiving and shipping. It was a spiritual connection, too, that kept Jenny and I mentally connected with each other. We knew what the other was thinking and instinctively acted on it.  Part of the miracle was that volunteers with different skills offered up their time and experience.  Almost like it was pre arranged and everyone already knew what part they would play.  All the volunteers came in…took their rightful place and this huge Katrina-Mart now had a staff of hundreds and they were all working like a well-oiled machine. It was truly amazing. All the volunteers were amazing.

On that first day, one of the first people to walk through the doors was an older, small, frail- looking black man.  He was carrying several clothes hangers draped with freshly pressed jeans.  He approached me rather timidly and asked if this was the place where you donate clothes for evacuees.  I said enthusiastically,  “Oh, yes sir!”  He handed the clothes hangers of jeans to me while apologizing that they were not new.  He said that these were all he had other than the ones he had on and that he had stayed up all night washing and pressing them. “I figured nobody would want ‘em if they weren’t clean and pressed,” he said.   I fought back the tears and thanked the gentlemen more than once for his thoughtfulness and generosity.  I proudly carried the pressed jeans to the men’s clothing department and hung them on the rack while inconspicuously wipping the tears from my cheeks.  This would be the first of many kind gestures that I would witness during this experience.  But it was the thoughtfulness of this man who obviously didn’t have much to begin with but was willing to give what little he had that impressed me the most.

By the end of the day, we had half the building filled. From groceries to clothes….from shoes to toys…. from toilet paper to shampoo. …all the shelves were filled.  During the days to follow, I would find myself at the front of the building near the registration desks helping people check in and managing our new army of volunteers.  Jenny was in the office making calls and receiving calls from all over the country.  She had even managed to secure a live interview on a major radio station in Chicago and by the next morning more than $50,000 in donations came pouring in. We used these funds to hand out much-needed gas cards to every evacuee that registered in the days to follow.

Huge semi trucks were pulling up in the parking lot asking for instructions on where to unload.  It all happened so fast that it’s hard to remember when and what happened first.  But I do remember that the nation was feeling like Jenny and I had felt that first week and they were determined to do something.  And boy did they.  Caravans from across the nation drove up in trailers, vans and trucks full of donated goods. Area business men offered their heavy equipment.  There was a constant flow of goods and money coming in. 

The black ministers from the black churches in Webster and Claiborne were some of the first to come and offer up their prayers and donate money. The largest individual contribution we received throughout the entire ordeal came from an area black minister who provided very generous cash gifts to every evacuee in town just in time Christmas. We would love to tell you who that was but he swore us to secrecy.  All area churches were wonderfully supportive.  By the end of the first week, more than 200 people were on hand at any given time sorting through donations, unloading boxes and stocking the shelves. 

I had not witnessed anything like this in my life.  We posted a sign at the registration desk that read “Can you feel the love?”  And for anyone who worked there and for any of the evacuees who passed through those doors, the love was definitely there.

One of the first family to come to the center for help was the Plaisance family from St. Bernard Parish. Glenn Plaisance sat down at the registration table in front of me and began to tell me his story.  It would be one of many stories we would hear during this entire experience.  He, like many of the good people from the New Orleans area, thought they would be going back home after the storm blew over.  He had driven up in a friend’s van, leaving his personal vehicle behind. He and other members of his family had carpooled and caravanned up to Lake Bistineau State Park.  He had borrowed another car to drive to the relief center in hopes of finding someone who could help him and his family.  After hearing his story, I reached into my pocket and handed him the keys to the Children’s Center van.  Without even thinking, I told him that he could borrow my van and that would get him and his family the transportation they would need. But it was conditional.  I would need to have it back every day before 2:30pm so I could pick up Children’s Center kids at school. I won’t ever forget the look on his face when I handed him the keys.  “You don’t even know me,” he said.  Didn’t matter.  At this point in my life, I figured that anything I had was there for anyone who needed it.  And I know that I wasn’t the only one who felt that way. I witnessed many people making similar gestures.

Each day Glenn brought the van back and after I finished picking up the kids, I handed the keys back to him.   But while I was picking up the kids, Glenn looked around the Children’s Center and found various things I needed cleaned or repaired and he did it.  He brought his sweet wife, Denise with him and the two of them would spend their day cleaning the center for me.  We developed a close friendship and they are probably one of the biggest blessings to come out of this tragedy.  The Plaisance family became a part of the Minden community for more than a year and donated their time and gave back more than they ever received.  We are still friends today and while I’m ashamed to say that I don’t communicate with them or see them as much as I want, they are forever in my heart. 

We registered officially more than 10,000 evacuees. We eventually became the official FEMA disaster relief center for the area.  The relief center was open from the beginning of September to nearly the end of December.  After a huge community Thanksgiving event, many of the evacuees started to return home.   

I witnessed many miracles during that time. So many good people stepped forward to help. Too many to name here because I’m sure I would leave someone out.  There were many stories of horror and heartache that also came out of this experience.  But it was the love that was given unconditionally to all who walked through those doors that I will forever remember.

I know there are many of you with stories of your own. I would welcome you to share them with us. Please feel free to comment.