Moss Point, MS, USA - Not About Me

**Michael has quite a few photos that I will upload here when he gets a chance to edit and size them and when we have time to really sit in front of the computer, so if you are interested, check back after the 21st.**

We closed down the shelter at East Central High School in Hurley and moved over to a community center in Moss Point. Now instead of the relative privacy of school hallways, our people are all living in one big gym. It's smaller and less desirable, but school has to open back up sometime.

The community center is right on the river. When the hurricane hit and the water rose, it deposited a thick layer of mud over the sidewalks and parking lot. For the past week it's been baking in the sun and it's now cracked into crazy patterns. The deluge of salt water killed everything green and now the leaves on all the nearby trees are brown. The view from the windows should be lovely, but instead it's a bit depressing.

Moving shelters is real work. We got up at 6 am as usual on Monday and I had my last shower to date. Then we had to clean the school, both because that's what's right and so that they wouldn't regret allowing the Red Cross in. One of the clients and I did the staff bathrooms. I cleaned those toilets as I would my own (except I used a lot more bleach.)

Then Michael and I went to drive some of the volunteers to Ocean Springs to "outprocess" so they could go home. Ocean Springs is right on the water and is devastated. Houses are piles of debris - if they are not completely gone. There are boats on land, sideways, upside-down, in the streets.

We were the advance team going to the new location in Moss Point. When we arrived, a couple of Red Cross coordinators had already cleaned out a lot of the crap piled up in the community center, with a team of convicts in green and white striped pants. Michael and I tackled the kitchen. Unbelievable. It must have been years since that place has been cleaned. It was very kind of the center to allow us in, but I really want to know what went on there, because those kitchen cabinets, at least fifteen of them, and all seven drawers, were full stuff, almost none of it of use. It was like someone said, "Hey, what do I do with these water wings, rusty razor blades, old nails, dusty plastic cups, and stained Tupperware?" And then someone else said, "Put 'em in the kitchen cabinets with the spare Foosball men, pool cue chalk, charcoal lighter fluid, thumbtacks and empty paint cans. And make sure you pour down a nice coat of syrup first so it sticks real good."

It took two hours to clean that kitchen, but in the end we had it spotless and started to fill up the cabinets with donated food. While we were doing that, other Red Cross volunteers were sectioning off the gym and assigning spaces to families, so there would be no arguments when the people arrived. Others were cleaning the dining/rec room and setting up the registration desk and cleaning the bathrooms. When the people arrived, everything was ready for them. Home, such as it is.

Over dinner I had a conversation with some of the clients. Dinner, by the way, was very good. The Rotary Club has set up a feeding station across the street and serves hot food from 11:00 am to 7:00 pm. I never thought I'd enjoy food that was made in quantities to feed 4,000 people a day (Red Cross clients and staff, firemen, policemen, and community members), but that pork barbecue was good. And I had my first blackeyed peas...mmm.

Anyway... people were asking me about this and that and there was a fair amount of complaining. No one really wanted to move from the old location. I can't blame them, really, because who wants to move every week? But school must go on. They wanted to know if the Red Cross was going to find them housing. I had to say no, that the Red Cross doesn't do that. Then this girl looked right at me--remember I have been working over twelve hours straight, lifting, carrying, and cleaning and I'm soaked in sweat and mud and bleach--and said, "What do the Red Cross do then?"

I just looked at her. Luckily someone else interrupted me with a question and I was able to take a moment. When I turned back to this girl I said, calmly, "Well, there's this shelter." and then she said, "That's it?"

I mean... seriously?

It's not that I expect her to grovel and thank me or anyone for every little crumb. I don't mind complaints about the space, the rules, the routine, the location or whatever else. They don't have to enjoy it just because it's free. Nobody wants to be in a shelter; this situation sucks for them. Their lives have just been washed away.  And I made similar complaints when I was in a similar situation. But to look me in the eye and suggest that the Red Cross is doing nothing after the day that I have had... wow.

As much as I tried to remind myself It's Not About Me, I can't even explain how much that hurt my feelings. We are trying. We are doing our best. I could be in Mexico right now, sipping a $.50 margarita. Literally.

When you have something like that happen, you need a few minutes alone to remind yourself of what you are doing and why. But there is no privacy here for staff either. Nurses and mental health are all crammed into one little room, mass care staff is crammed into another, and the Rotary Club is crammed into another on the same motley assortment of cots and air mattresses that the clients are on. I just had to pull myself together.