Shady, tree-lined neighborhoods are a maze of mismatched dinette sets and children’s toys. Stores are de facto shelters, diners and one-stop shops for donations and disaster assistance forms. Times are hard, but one thing has emerged — a wave of community spirit and Christian servanthood as neighbors help neighbors and churches unleash armies of volunteers.
The scope of the devastation is staggering. Houston is the fourth largest city in the nation, bigger than the state of New Jersey with a population of more than 2.3 million within city limits and 6.5 million throughout the metro area. Across the state, Hurricane Harvey affected more than 6.8 million people in 18 counties. As the days pass, the damage and death totals continue to rise. So, too, do the number of volunteers.
John Whitehead woke to an unfamiliar sight in mid-August — water had breached his house and was rising fast. The Louisiana State University student panicked for a few minutes, facing tough decisions. What should he save and what should he leave behind?
Every day, assessors walk the streets, attempting to find the most vulnerable people with the greatest need. And every day, volunteers don their gloves and get to work, crawling around on a mud-slicked floor or hauling sodden carpet to the curb for trash pickup.
Driving the streets of Baton Rouge, the need is apparent. Life is slowly getting back to normal in some places, but the majority of streets hold deep pockets of pain. In these areas, SBDR volunteers are greeted with smiles, tears and heartfelt gratitude.
Neighborhoods and side streets tell a heartbreaking story. Clothes, mattresses and household furniture lay strewn across wet lawns in hopes that the sun will shine long enough to dry them. Everything that was not salvageable is piled high along the roadways, transforming shady lanes to narrow pathways, children’s toys providing the occasional jolt of color.
