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Visiting the Hug Station in New Orleans
Written by
Doris Wolf
, Special to Redcross.org
Friday, October 21, 2005 NEW ORLEANS – Sometimes you can go home again and that’s the hardest part.
Gradually New Orleans residents have been returning to water-soaked carpeting and bedding, decaying food, growing mold and drying mud. Many picked up a few possessions and left. Others rolled up their sleeves and got to work to clean up their homes. But whether they’re moving on or moving back, every day thousands of people have turned to the American Red Cross for help as they begin to rebuild their lives, post-hurricane.
At two sites on Rampart Street, north of the French Quarter, Red Cross volunteers have set up drive-through service centers to distribute orange plastic buckets, latex gloves, jugs of bleach and other cleaning supplies. Residents also get packaged sandwich trays, heater meals, bags of snacks. For some, that was enough to begin the daunting task of rebuilding their lives. Others needed more.
Red Cross volunteer David Gwinett, who works in a mental health clinic in Boston, logged 550 to 700 survivors on a sheet of paper on his clipboard as he walked from car to car at the service site at Municipal Auditorium. Gwinett was doing more than greeting people. He was looking for those who need a special kind of help.
Mental health workers can recognize the signs of people who need help mending their spirit as well as their home, according to Joe Brunner, a registered nurse from Sarasota, Fla.
“I ask ‘How are you doing?’ and I get one-word answers. ‘Bad.’ ‘Not good.’ ‘Mold.’ They shake their heads. They don’t look at you,” he said. “Or you ask ‘How is the family?’ and they say, ‘The family is fine, thank God.’ And you reach out and pat them on the shoulder and then they break down. And you know they’re the ones who have to be strong for the family. They’ve got momma and the kids, and they just don’t know how they’re going to provide for them all.”
Those people are gently invited to pull over and talk with one of the mental health workers, who quietly take them aside. At the Red Cross station on North Rampart Street, they sit on the concrete wall that surrounds Covenant House. Gwinett said he meets with 35 to 40 people a day.
Jone See, a registered nurse from St. Paul, Minn., put her arm around a woman in a bright green T-shirt as they walked behind the large panel trucks to a quiet place along the wall, under the shady trees. See held the woman’s hand as they talked.
“She has a sister who needs a kidney, an elderly father. She lost her home in the hurricane and is staying with family. She is trying to hold it all together,” See said. “I just mostly listen. They need to talk. They need someone to lean on for a little bit.”
As the woman returned to her car, piled with food, water, ice, bleach and a bucket of cleaning supplies, she looked back at the line of Red Cross volunteers.
“You are God’s angels right here,” she said.
The mental health counselors encourage people to return to the “hug station,” and they aren’t disappointed.
“People drive in every day just for the hugs,” said Brunner.
“I got flooded out 10 years ago in Sarasota, Florida,” he explained. “We were out of our house for three months. I know what these people are going through. I tell them the days will get shorter. Do you know how long a day goes when you’re in agony?”
As he waited in the line of cars, fear showed clearly in Arthur Robinson’s eyes. He is from New Orleans East, an area on the edge of the 9th Ward that was hit first by the hurricane and then drowned by the waters of Lake Pontchartrain when the Industrial Canal levee broke.
“I have a house,” he said stoicly. “No roof, but I have a house. I lived there with my son. Now he’s staying with his mom. Life could be better, but I have a house.”
The peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and three-gallon jug of water that Red Cross site manager Pat Higgins of Hershey, Pa., put in Robinson’s car were welcome. The heater meals he received from Red Cross volunteer Bill Bradford of Ellicott City, Md., were vital. The hug from Gwinett: Priceless.
“You come back tomorrow,” Gwinett told Robinson. “We’ll be here.”
Doris Wolf is a retired journalist from Seneca Falls, N.Y., who volunteers her public affairs skills with the American Red Cross in the Finger Lakes.
All American Red Cross disaster assistance is free, made possible by voluntary donations of time and money from the American people. You can help the victims of thousands of disasters across the country each year, disasters like the Midwest ice storms, by making a financial gift to the American Red Cross Disaster Relief Fund, which enables the Red Cross to provide shelter, food, counseling and other assistance to victims of disaster. The American Red Cross honors donor intent. If you wish to designate your donation to a specific disaster please do so at the time of your donation. Call 1-800-REDCROSS or 1-800-257-7575 (Spanish). Contributions to the Disaster Relief Fund may be sent to your local American Red Cross chapter or to the American Red Cross, P. O. Box 37243, Washington, DC 20013. Internet users can make a secure online contribution by visiting www.redcross.org.
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