There were several hundred of us there from almost every imaginable walk of life. Being a bagpiper and knowing that the deployment would last at least 30 days, I brought my instrument in hopes of being able to practice and maintain stamina. As it turned out, bagpiping would prove to be good therapy for me and offer some light entertainment for others on a few occasions.

Next Stop: “Tent City”
The next stop was “tent city” in Baton Rouge, which was a kind of staging area for the volunteers and other personnel involved in the relief effort.

Photo Credit: Jon Dangle

There, we were divided into eight-person teams and given the chance to work locally. During this waiting period, my team volunteered to help at the temporary shelter for rescued animals located on the grounds of the University of Louisiana at Baton Rouge. Twice a day we cleaned the kennels, gave the animals fresh food, water and much appreciated attention. On just our second day at the animal shelter, FEMA notified us to pack up and head for Slidell, La., where a DRC was opening the next day.

Finding a Place to Sleep
We arrived in Slidell late in the evening and discovered the first of many surprising facets of our attachment to FEMA—there were no arrangements for lodging. We were advised that we would have to find a place to set up our cots and sleeping bags. Besides working 12-hour shifts, 7 days a week, finding food and shelter would be a daily activity during the first part of our stay. But, compared to the living conditions of many of the residents of Slidell, we fared pretty well.

We found shelter in a Knights of Columbus building on several occasions and, although water damaged and missing several windows, it had a good roof and two bathrooms. For a while, we took meals at a fire service camp but when they moved to a different location, we were left scrounging for food again. Restaurants were non-existent in Slidell. We eventually found accommodations at a high-security federal communications research facility. They gave us floor space in a conference room to set up our cots at night, access to bathrooms and showers, and, best of all, a cache of canned goods and MRE’s or military ready-to-eat meals. Life became a little easier after the discovery of that little “slice of heaven.”

Evacuation to Baton Rouge
Another hurricane interrupted our work in Slidell, and we had to evacuate to Baton Rouge for two days. Accommodations there amounted to a large room where hundreds of us set up our cots and shared six showers and an equal number of sinks and toilets. Although the accommodations were austere, it did give us another opportunity to visit the animal shelter where we had become attached to several of the guests.

The members of my team and DRC volunteers became a family. We watched out for each other, learned how to get along under stress and comforted and/or entertained each other as needed. We also had an extended family and became fast friends with state troopers, security guards, and maintenance staff who frequented our lodging facility. Most important–we became part of a community that was struggling to find some kind of normalcy and balance in the midst of chaos and tragedy. At one point, I bagpiped at an outdoor, impromptu wedding ceremony for a local firefighter. Twice, hurricanes had caused the couple’s ceremony to be postponed, and they were desperate to celebrate the event before embarking on their scheduled honeymoon.

Upon Reflection
When I reflect on the impact that I had on the relief effort and the influence the experience had on me, I compare it to the dynamics of family, asking myself, “What did I bring to the family and what have I taken away?”

I brought a little bit of training and knowledge, which allowed me to offer advice and direction to people seeking assistance, emotional support for my teammates and fellow volunteers dealing with being away from home and loved ones. I also contributed a bit of manual labor to help rescued animals and their primary care providers. I also provided a few musical performances, some requested, some thrust on unexpecting innocent ears. Most importantly, though, I brought a willingness to listen. In some cases, I was a sounding board for my new family when they needed to confide in someone or express their anger over their circumstances.

No Regrets
What did I take away? No regrets and no negative feelings toward FEMA, as I don’t believe that there is a way to be adequately prepared for such a catastrophe. I have witnessed first hand the tireless efforts of conscientious responders and volunteers making a difference. Obviously, I watch with special interest any news reports about the restoration efforts underway in those areas affected by hurricane Katrina. It’s true that you have to be there to really appreciate how devastating the destruction caused by a hurricane can be.

I am still discovering the personal impact of the experience. I have “family” who, even if I never see them again, will be with me always. I keep in contact with some of my team, but there are also just faces and conversations with residents of the Slidell, La., area that frequently pop into my mind, giving me cause to pause and pray on their behalf. I hope to go back and visit someday, fully expecting to be amazed at how they have rebuilt and persevered. These are the kind of people that I met and came to know as “family” in Slidell, La.