Your
RV: A Vehicle of Hope
By
Carol Tebo
One of the most compelling motivations for our becoming full-time
RVers was to have more freedom and opportunity to be of service
to others. Although we had determined that Habitat for Humanity
would be our primary service commitment, another vision also tugged
at us. Many times Larry and I had heard of a natural disaster
and wished that we could just pick up and go help. Then the
chance to fulfill our aspiration presented itself.
We were in Americus, Georgia, participating in a Habitat for Humanity
blitz-build. Only hours before the joyous dedication of the 20
homes and the transferring of the keys to the happy families,
we were all informed of the tornado that cut a deadly swath through
the Birmingham, Alabama, area. We knew this was the moment
we had imagined many times. We made an immediate decision to go
to Birmingham and stay as long as we could be useful.
We were advised to approach the local churches, because they are
usually involved in the relief effort and are amenable to helping
volunteers find a place to set up. I contacted the Birmingham
Baptist Association, which coordinated the command center for
the entire cleanup effort, and explained that we could offer long-term
help. They arranged for us to hook up at a large church, which
gave us access to their bathrooms, shower, and laundry facilities.
The tornado that tore through the Birmingham communities may have
exceeded the parameters of an F-5, the most powerful storm. The
winds, in excess of 320 m.p.h., stripped the bark off trees. No
matter how dramatic the images are on the television or movie
screen, nothing can prepare you for the actual sight of the decimation
such power produces. The way it is consistently expressed by everyone
is, "It looks like a war zone!"
Our first day was a stark contrast to the joyous building we had
just completed. We operated in a dream-like state as we helped
dismantle a house, board by board, and hauled it curbside, forming
mountains of debris. The most difficult experience for all of
us was finding and setting aside personal items, because they
put us in touch with the lives of the people who had lived there.
For three weeks, we systematically moved from property to property,
tearing down, raking, loading wheelbarrows, and hauling. We worked
alongside wonderful people of all ages from all walks of life.
And we met a number of the victims. We listened, hugged, empathized,
and soothed. In almost every case, we were profoundly moved by
the strength of the human spirit in the face of adversity.
For the next three weeks, we camped at another church, which had
full hookups along one wallÑunused in 15 years. We spent those
weeks ministering to four generations of a family. A bond was
formed that will forever be special to all of us.
As
we were winding up our work in Alabama and looking forward to
several weeks of rest, we saw reports of the tornado that leveled
the little town of Spencer, South Dakota. No longer could we view
it as just another news report. We had witnessed firsthand what
it means to the lives of the people affected. We felt certain
we should head thereÑactually to the next-door town of Salem.
The Salem National Guard Armory, which was the collection and
distribution center for all the donated goods, became our camp
spot for the next two weeks. We would play an entirely different
role there.
Once more we were in store for an almost incomprehensible sight.
This time, however, it was the inside of the armory. The response
to the plight of the 300 townspeople was so overwhelming that
the huge interior was a sea of clothing, food, toys, and furnishings,
with boxes stacked to the ceilings in other rooms, waiting to
be sorted.
In addition to giving relief and support to the young woman in
charge, including letting her use our trailer as a getaway, we
sorted clothing, shelved food, aided victims in selecting items,
and helped organize and conduct the culminating three-day rummage
sale of excess donations, the proceeds of which, over $14,000
(that was the final figure after the remains were sold for salvage),
went to the Spencer Relief Fund.
During lunch one day at the armory, we were introduced to the
South Dakota Lutheran Disaster Relief (LDR) coordinator. She explained
the ongoing hardships farmers and ranchers were still enduring
as a result of the crippling '96-'97 winter blizzards. So, we
headed for Selby, South Dakota, for yet another experience.
High feed and fuel bills, loss of a half-million cattle, miles
of mangled fencing, inability to get milk to market, exhaustion,
illnesses, and injuries incurred shoveling and clearing, followed
by the onset of spring chores, created a debilitating cycle that
left many hopeless and unable to cope.
LDR traveled thousands of miles of dirt roads, assessing needs,
acquiring supplies, and enlisting volunteer groups to mend fences,
repair barns, clear shelter belts, and help give the battered
people a jump-start.
With our trailer hooked up at the local church, it was our privilege
to participate in that effort for two weeks. Though the hours
were sometimes long, and the work physically and emotionally demanding,
it was extremely rewarding to see life come back into the eyes
of those proud people as they regained hope and the fortitude
to carry on.
The deep satisfaction of helping people in their time of greatest
need overrode all other considerations and seemed to energize
us. When you become part of a community in crisis, you have an
opportunity to connect with its heart and soul.
We
heartily encourage all RVers to turn your RV into a vehicle of
hope the next time you hear about an emergency or disaster. RVers
are in a unique position. Our mobile, flexible, and self-sustained
lifestyle makes it relatively easy for us to just pick up and
go help. No special skills are required. Age is not a factor either.
We worked alongside many people in their 70s and some even in
their 80s.
It is our observation that volunteers who can stay for a protracted
period of time are extremely valuable, particularly after the
first couple of weeks when the front line of local volunteers
are burned out, the out-of-town volunteers have dwindled, and
the agencies have withdrawn.
It is when all the hoopla dies down that victims begin to acknowledge
the reality of their situation, and a supportive, consistent helping
hand is most needed. It is my promise that you could not find
anything more satisfying to be doing just then. This is really
what life is all about--being vehicles of hope and love to our
fellow travelers through life.
Habitat RV Care-A-Vanners has added disaster relief to their
Habitat projects. For information, call 800-HABITAT, extension
2316 or email rvinfodesk@hfhi.org.
copyright
© 2001 Carol Tebo
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