Day Ten No Power

I thought it would be easier just to say the power status in the title line. Just in case that's all you checked in for, you'd be able to read and run. But yeah, day ten, no power. I saw them digging giant holes yesterday for new poles. And this morning as I was driving home from the place I slept at last night, I saw about 20 power trucks. So who knows? Maybe today.

Yestereday my church went back out to Timber Lakes/Timber Ridge http://www.photoblog.com/Sevenapples/ to pass out clothes and backpacks. Mike and I went out early to pass out flyers letting residents know what time to get there. As I approached one house, the doors and windows were all open. Inside lay on older man (maybe 65?) on his bed that was in the middle of the living room. He didn't move when I knocked on his door, so I called out, "Are you okay?" He sort of sat up and said, "I don't know."

His bed appeared to be piled high with clothing and a few other articles he obviously hoped to save. His carpet had been stripped down to the bare concrete, but you could still see the water line from the flood on his wet sheetrock. I said, "Sir, are you hurt? Do you need some help?"

He said, "I'm not hurt. I'm just tired. No one can tell me what I need to do. Some tell me start repairing things, but just take good pictures. Some tell me don't do nothin'. I pulled out my carpet, and I ain't got no camera, so I'm just gonna lay here until someone can tell me what to do."

In the same neighborhood, I met a woman carrying 3 empty gas cans. She had just filled up the generator at a hospice house. Three old people lay dying in that house. She asked me when they were getting electricity. I told her that I didn't know.

A few houses down I saw 4 little kids, the oldest of which was probably 8, playing in their driveway. Their parents were busy loading up their uhaul with what was left of their belongings. The rest of what they owned was lying in a heap on the edge of the street. The kids played as though nothing was wrong. The dad just hung his head and plodded along. The mom smiled weakly at me, thanked me, and then went back about her task.

I feel somewhat useless. I have no real help for these people. No real answers. So I just keep doing the little things. But I have discovered that the thing most of these people want is just someone to listen to their story. I heard a lot of stories yesterday. A lot of stories, through lots of tears.

All that to say, Day Ten, no power.