Galveston: Rebuilding

The Gulf has not had it easy lately: Hurricanes Katrina, Rita, and Ike wreaked havoc on coastal communities -- and they are still recovering.

UMCOR (the United Methodist Committee on Relief) has been in the Gulf coordinating relief efforts since the storm hit. Driving through town, you might not even realize that two years ago, Hurricane Ike dropped enough rain to flood and destroy countless homes.
It was the third worst storm in U.S. history.

You have to look closely to realize that piles of debris and trash are remnants of the ongoing clean-up efforts. From the outside, houses may appear to be structurally sound, but inside the walls are broken and the floors have rotted. Paint is peeling. Roofs need to be replaced.

I think one of our group leaders mentioned that thirty to forty percent of people displaced by Hurricane Ike have still not returned to Galveston. It's easy to forget that it takes years for an area to recover from a disaster like Ike, long after the media has moved on to other stories.

Enter Sandy Langston, UMCOR, and Crockett Place United Methodist Church in Galveston -- a church that has been transformed into a headquarters for disaster relief. The pews in the sanctuary are stacked with hardhats and water coolers. The yard is strung with clothesline and houses an 8-shower mobile trailer built by volunteer Texas A&M students. The dining room area can seat at least 30; people rest in one of the two bunkrooms or five bedrooms.


Crockett is ready and waiting for volunteer groups, like mine, to arrive for the weekend. So a few weeks ago, 12 volunteers from Austin took on the recovery task for the weekend. We arranged for our own transportation and food, and UMCOR did the rest.

Here are five lessons learned...

1. Prepare to get dirty. And sweaty.
Even though I was a mission trip rookie, I expected to get dirty. Sanding. Mudding. Hauling trash. Painting. I packed shirts I didn't care about, and ended up covered in dust, dirt, grass, mosquito bites, and splattered with paint.

2. Bonding is the easiest part.
And possibly one of the best. After signing up for the trip, I wondered what I had gotten myself into. Loading in the van to drive to Galveston, my worries quickly faded. These are "my people" -- friendly, hilarious and goofy, curious, politically savvy... others who are committed to social justice and willing to take time out of their lives to serve others. When you spend three days working, eating, and sharing an experience together, it's easy for strangers to become close friends. The trip was not just a great opportunity to help others, but to build meaningful relationships and a community.

3. Expect anything -- the ordinary and extraordinary.
Flocks of pelicans gliding overhead as we crossed the bridge into Galveston.
Evening laugh sessions over ice cream at Sonic.
Jumping around in the waves of the Gulf Coast. (No tar balls... yet.)
Finding out that our UMCOR relief coordinator, Sandy, used to work in Hollywood -- and designed the giant boulder in Indiana Jones!

4. It's about the work. It's about the people.
It's both. Each house and project we worked on that weekend provided a new experience, a new skill, a new conversation, and a new connection to Galveston.

A few stories...
Pastor Bill shared a story during our evening group devotional. He said that he loves volunteer work, but finds that the rewards are often complex – why do we do it? How do we show God's love and spirit in the work that we do? He recalled a mission team trip to Kentucky with a group of college students from our church. The work was much-needed, but the recipients were not at all what they expected. One was a welfare cheat. The other was a racist. It put a new spin on their work, and yet, they were still able to bring their labor and gifts to that community. Pretty admirable.

Most of the time, a connection to the family benefiting from the repairs is special and gratifying for both sides. This was the case in Galveston.

One house where we worked, mostly hauling debris to be disposed of, was the home of a retired pastor named June, her husband, and her son and daughter-in-law. When Ike struck, the lower floor of their house, including their septic tank, were totally ruined. We asked her how high the water was at her home. June, who is at least my height (5’ 6"), reached her hand above her head and tapped the edge of the door frame. It was amazing to see how far they’d had to come on their path to recovery, and how determined they were to remain in a community they love.

At another house, a multi-generational family made us lunch. While we worked to paint their house and their front porch, they were cooking a feast – BBQ, potato salad, fresh green beans and bacon (said the grandma, “I can’t stand the canned ones”), and white bread. One of the best meals I’ve had all year, and it was served with a lot of love. We got to eat with Miracle, the youngest family member. She gave us a hand painting the porch, rode around on her red tricycle, and then headed in for a nap.

We sure weren’t the most expert painters, but the transformation was dramatic. The owners of the home were delighted and I was happy that our work was worth it.

5. It's addicting.
I want to do more. I'd go back in a heartbeat.

P.S. Borrowed the pictures from Emily. Thanks!