The Painful Reality
New Orleans, U.S.A. - September 10, 2005
Our first full day in Houston was a memorable one. We began the day outside by helping direct the busloads upon busloads of evacuees that had come to the center to receive their FEMA debit cards. Patrick and I undoubetdly looked a tad out of place in our bright yellow volunteer shirts amidst the sea of nearly 30 private, local, state and federal officials.
Once inside, we had a few opportunities to listen directly to the story of a few of the evacuees as we continued our assistance with the long lines. One story I will not forget was a conversation with a man named George. Within a span of 3 days, George celebrated a birthday with his wife and family, witnessed the death of his wife the day after and then lost his home to the flood. George's eyes pierced through mine revealing the pain, the hurt and the depth of his loss like an open wound. Before I could find even a simple word, George was whisked away.
Although my conversation with George was quite brief, it is a raw reminder to me of how real this situation is. And there are thousands of other stories just like George's, probably within feet of me everyday.