“You know what gets attacked first in the midst of a crisis or disaster such as Katrina?” The bishop proclaimed in the microphone in Our Lady of Prompt Succor church today.
“Hope. A group of people’s hope gets attacked first.” He said, answering his own question with intensity.
He went onto say later that, “I am thankful today to be standing here before you people and be able to say that during that time of crisis four years ago, your hope was attacked by hurricane Katrina, but I can see you have all given yourself over to God, and hope has prevailed”.
As the 3 of us workers sat in our pew in that church in St.Bernard parish, one of the hardest hit areas by Katrina from the industrial canal breech, I felt like I was part of something very important. The Eucharist was brought up by the men and women of the police and fire department of the parish and I got chills. The church was packed; black, white, young, old.
Today marked the 4thanniversary of hurricane Katrina making landfall on the gulf, and the bishop was absolutely correct, hope was prevailing.
Church bells rang this morning throughout New Orleans, there was a second line parade starting at the street corner in the lower ninth where the industrial canal broke and water came crashing through. Me and Rebekah went to the New Orleans Museum of Art this morning since they were screening Spike Lee’s documentary “When the levees broke”. We watched half of it and then went to the other side of the museum to view a special collection of “Katrina” photos that were on display for one day only. The names of the people who lost their lives’ were honored outside the museum as well. There was a 24 hour rebuild-a-thon happening all day and night in the lower 9th ward in which many university students and government/military personnel turned out to help serve a still crippled area.
I guess my point is….hope. So much was done today to fill the city with hope on a day which, similar to September 11th, is usually veiled with grief and dark energy.
As I reflected on my time here as a SJW tonight at church, I felt very connected to something bigger.
I sat there, and examined the scraps on my forearms that occurred from lifting lumber into a house I am helping to rebuild. This week was my second full week of work, and I am not gunna lie to you, I lost sight of the bigger picture a bit here and there. My body has been aching from the new forms of physical labor I am participating in. I arrive home drenched in sweat, sawdust, and grease from the nail gun. I have been working on many sporadic pieces of different houses, thus I have not been able to see too much of my progress yet; I learn one thing and then it is on to the next thing.
But in light of all the uncertainty (and dirty clothes) my service with lowernine.org provides me, it has also helped me to glimpse this interesting hope that seems to float throughout New Orleans.As I was telling my friend Sue on the phone the other night:
“You can feel something down here, I mean don’t get me wrong, many of the houses are still boarded up and completely ruined, but there is a really positive energy floating around. It is almost as thick as the air itself."
Each day as me and Rian cruise through the lower 9 to work or when I am actually out on the job there are sounds of hope: hammers nailing the houses back together, table saws cutting 2x4s to frame up new windows on a home, kids in uniforms are yelling to each other as they all walk to school together.
The other piece that has thrown me for a loop as far as hope goes is how grateful many locals are in relation to people coming in to help.
Usually when I meet new people here they ask the classic question of,
“So, why are you here?”
My response is an abridged version which sounds like “I moved here from New York, I am a volunteer working in the lower ninth ward rebuilding homes, I will be here for 10 months”.
After I say this I am always met with a hug and “thank you” whispered into my ears or handshakes and that very intense kind of eye contact, where the other person is really trying to convey their emotions through their gaze. I expected to have some grateful responses here and there, maybe down the line from homeowners who I helped directly, but definitely not from complete strangers who praise my bravery for even taking the step to say “yes” to a certain call to serve other Americans.
So as today marks the 4th year that this crazy yet loveable city was really knocked down by nature and fate, I feel blessed to have found my way down here at a time when hope is being reborn. My fellow SJWs and I get to be a part of reviving a part of our country! Even just by being people who exude a positive spirit we can contribute to that hope that the bishop was talking about.
Cheers New Orleans!
Love, Traci