Tuesday - February 22

Monday night after a wonderful dinner at Reginelli's we made our way to the Land Building for our orientation.  There are two RHINO groups here this week.  The other crew is from Chicago.

The team "buffs" were also distributed and modeled.

Our new "home."

Today's bloggers are Gerald Morgan & Ryan Beutler:

“Come together, right now, over me.” This famous Beatles’ chorus epitomized our first two days in New Orleans.  We arrived to FPC despite hazardous conditions to face shoveling that God has brought upon us.  This shoveling foreshadowed the aspect of Physical labor to be bestowed upon us. The fate of these thirteen souls, nine not even old enough to order a beer, was in God’s hands.

           When we first met at our orientation meeting two weeks ago most of us only knew each other in passing, yet the crew quickly began to discover each other’s personalities. Two weeks later, these thirteen strangers were soaring 35,000 feet up in the air heading to a city that most of us had only seen on TV, the movies, and even still framed images. Some only would think of the destruction that was fed to us through media outlets, while others predicted the city to look similar to the Jazz Musician paintings on Bourbon Street.

            We were greeted at St. Charles Presbyterian Church by the program director of R.H.I.N.O, Kate Snider after our Italian dinner. We were given our schedules and informed of the duties that we were assigned. There, the group gained a 14^th member, Michael, who traveled all the way from Sydney, Australia to rebuild hope and rebuild the city. Those of us, who thought that the journey from Stamford was exponentially tedious, were forced to reconsider. Still, with the gained knowledge, the group went to sleep, not knowing truly what to expect in the coming week.

            When Six A.M. struck the clock, everyone rolled out of bed putting on our matching group buffs and work boots.

            The ride to the worksite was eerie and silent, with half of the neighborhoods’ windows made of wood rather than glass. I, Gerald, sat silent, pondering what my childhood would have been like in a neighborhood where the two houses next to you were abandoned, sounds of laughter gone with the 140 mile an hour winds.

            While the inhabitants were scarce, those who passed by in their cars often beeped, stopped, waved, or even stopped their car in traffic to interact with us, thanking us for the volunteer work we were doing for their community. We arrived at our house on General Ogden Street, with the task of painting the interior of the entire house. We stopped to read the story of the woman receiving the building we were working on. She is a single mother, who lost family to the winds. In an attempt to recover career and life, Habitat knew this woman was a perfect match to receive the property.

While some of our team began priming the edges of windows and rooms, others of us first had to clean brushes and paint buckets.  On our heavy-duty radio, the famous Beatles’ song, Come Together, echoed through the neighborhood. One local came out of his home, and began dancing to the song, acknowledging the work we were doing, and thanking us. He came over, and while cleaning the buckets, the stranger, and the two young men scrubbing the equipment performed a group sing-along. 

            Come together has become the fundamental theme of the last two days. About five women and a gentleman showed up around noon in a van that looked like a solar panel, which transformed into a cafeteria on wheels. The lunch contained your essential 12 o’clock meal ingredients, including a choice of sandwich, chips, fruit and dessert, accompanied with refreshing glass of southern iced tea or tangy lemonade.  On our lunch break, we decided to get a feel of the neighborhood that we were helping to rebuild. On the stroll, we both spoke soft whispers, for that is what most of the houses’ amplitudes were. Even though Katrina was over five years ago, the damage and aftershock of the storm was still present. We couldn’t believe that with all the hours of work put into the rebuilding process, that it seemed as if they hadn’t even put a dent into the solution.

            Many of the houses in the Hollygrove neighborhood were off limits, seemingly untouched by anything but nature, and spray-painted with red X’s. Some roofs were even caved in, five years later. After the seldom spoken words were uttered between us, we picked up our paintbrushes and got back to work. The afternoon session of work consisted of priming and painting the interior of the house, finishing the last few coats of paint on the doors.  Unfortunately we ran out of primer and so had to quite a little bit early. We truly worked hard.

           As the workday came to a close, we felt not only the satisfaction of working vigorously for eight hours, (some of us getting sweet farmers tans), but also the feeling that we were growing as a team. New friendships were established, while former ones were strengthened, due to the fact that being an individual member was not impossible. We all know that we needed to come together as a team to move this mountain. Every task needed more than one set of hands, and more than one spirit to tackle the job.

            After showering off layers of paint, we were showered by a delightful dinner. The meal was complete with southern treats consisting of Red Beans and Rice along with one of the best fried poultry dishes we had ever tasted, leading us to believe that we were dining with the Colonel, himself. After the distribution of our T-Shirts, the team left for the hotel, getting ready for another day, preparing for the next morning, when we would again, come together.

What is the world coming to?

And from David. . .

Please keep us in your prayers.