A life-changing experience

Our trip to New Orleans was profoundly moving to me on many levels. In a few words...a life-changing experience. I remember when we first met as a group and were asked "What are you expecting to get out of this trip?" This was my reply: "I have no expectations. I want to witness the destruction with my own eyes and to help people in any way that I can." All of us, adults and teens, did help in so many ways. People who know me know that I can sometimes speak and write in paragraphs not in mere sentences. But, rather than writing about my experiences for hours I wanted to share a few moments of when I was moved almost beyond words. For me, this is a humbling experience that doesn't happen often.

Surveying. This job didn't seem that exciting on the face of it. Get some maps, hit the streets with digital cameras and clipboards, take a few photos, complete a checklist...you're done! But, what was so amazing and palpable was making personal connections with complete strangers. When I canvassed one day with Alex we were talking about what seemed to be a brand-new home and a shed out back with a caved-in roof and blown-out windows. As we were talking a ~70'sish-year-old man (I can't remember his name) came down the driveway and said "Mornin'...what are you boys up to?" The tone of his voice was friendly, warm, and welcoming. He told us his story...growing up in the neighborhood two streets away, moving to and buying his home, raising a family, having his home wiped out by the storm, rebuilt by one of his contractor sons & his friends. We listened attentively and just let him speak. I felt blessed that he would allow himself to share. his life story on the street...stranger to stranger...the minutes sped by. "What happened to the shed?" I asked. "Oh, that got beat up in the storm too. I'm not going to touch it. It's a dang 'ole thing just like me. I told my boy not to touch it. He listen to me." Damn straight. I wouldn't touch it either. No need.

Vendredi Gras. We were invited to a reform shul for Kabbalat Shabbat, a potluck, and parades. After a wonderful service and dinner (featuring the best brisket and BBQ sauce I've ever eaten), we went outside. To our delight, three parades were ending up on St. Charles Street, the front door of the shul. At the start, the CDT and HBT adults mostly stayed behind a chain link fence. The floats that went by were AMAZING! I've walked in or attended Gay Pride in Boston, NYC, and San Francisco but these floats blew them away! The colors, artistry, and humor were UNBELIEVABLE! But I couldn't stay fenced in...I hit the street. Just a few feet away I felt the excitement and energy immediately. We screamed, yelled, and pleaded with krewe members to throw us beads, or the big prizes: doubloons, medallions, and stuffed animals. At one point an unofficial float went by...the members had no masks. A 30's-ish woman was in the back, dressed all in black. I caught her eye and pointed to some white beads sitting across my forehead. She smiled, winked, and pointed to her forehead. She'd clearly seen me. She reached down to get something. I started to run after the truck. She handed me a stuffed Easter Bunny. I felt an immediate rush of adrenaline. The connection to this woman was electric; I felt it throughout my entire body. I can't imagine what my face and body must have looked like, possessed I'm sure. I ran back to the CDT crowd to share the spoils. I threw myself at Gina, my crazed partner in all this revelry. We laughed, high-fived, and hugged each other.

So, what happens now? I've made a new commitment to myself for service. I've been a witness and feel like an evangelist telling people what we saw and did, the people we met. While I ride in the PMC every year, our trip to NOLA helped me to understand bigger things and to dedicate myself even more to helping others in real and palpable ways. I'm going to get involved in regular service activities and events, and also try to form long-term connections with TCC.

Tim