Hello to everyone in civilized places.
I'm back in Starkville after a week of picking through rubble and hauling timbers that date back to the 1860s. It's nice to be clean again and not have to worry about gnats, broken glass, and rusty hardware. Or the possibility of encountering leaking sewage or rotting flesh.
The first couple of days we went back to the tents sore, tired, and eaten by insects that are usually only active in the spring. Unfortunately, Meaghan and I hadn't brought flip flops for the showers, and none were available at what was left of the closest Wal-Mart. So we got in my car, met Dennis and one of his cousins at the Diamondhead exit, and drove to Gulfport.
How random is this? In the deli section, somebody asks "Is your name Meredith?" I'm tired and a little paranoid, because I don't know who this woman is who's speaking. Turns out it was my sister's friend's mom. How she knew who I am, I have no idea. Then we turn down the beer aisle (I'm pushing the cart, just so I can lean against it whenever we stop) and run into her again. Thanks, Dennis, now my sister's friend's mom thinks we were going to get drunk or something.
But anyway, we drove back in Zombie mode (and almost took out some nut who was standing in the middle of the road), got our showers and crashed out.
The second day we were joined by an arborist named Kyle. She had been staying with some friends in the area, but decided after getting stuck in a traffic jam that it would be easier to pitch a tent in a clearing on the site than to drive back and forth every day.
Wednesday. More work, less fatigue and soreness. Good thing, because Dennis took me to dinner in Gulfport. Tasty, tasty. We got a piece of cheesecake to share and took it back to his house. Watched some Scrubs, met the dogs, said hi to the parents.
However, there is another down side to living on the coast besides hurricanes. Fog. Freakishly thick fog. I wound up sleeping in his sister's room. Too dangerous to drive down the partially nonexistant roads in Bay and Waveland in that stuff, plus I'd feel bad sending him home in that mess.
And then the President came into town Thursday. Took up nearly two hours of our work time, made us late for lunch, and held us up again as we were trying to get back to the site.
The Secret Service guys were waaaaaaaay more amusing than they should be. We watched them search under an uprooted tree and in every one of the porta-potties. Right after they went further down the road, a FedEx truck drives up and drops of a delivery (presumably for the construction company working nearby. One cardboard box, one metal cube. The metal cube sat there. Whenever a worker was coming across the road, one of his buddies would say "Hey! Bring that over here, would ya?" Every one just looked at it and gave the "Heck no, I'm not that dumb" face. Had it been a bomb, I would've been screwed.
But yeah, the motorcade rolled through, and I got all the hooplah on video.
Almost got run over by one of the big black SUVs.
Then came the middle-aged people from North Carolina. How they had so much energy at 10 p.m. after a 13 hour drive, I don't know. Started making more noise than I've ever heard. And the tents amplify everything. Hair dryers. Bad.
Who would've thought a college kid would be trying to shut up a bunch of old people?
The kicker was the guy who decided to be a rooster the next morning.
Quiet hours were 8 p.m. to 7 a.m., by the way.
Got to the site (rain, eww) and we were greeted with the unmistakable smell of decomposition. Option one: exposed sewage. Option two: dead animal. Option three: dead person. And it was concentrated in the corner where we needed to work that day. Of course Ellis (a local who helped coordinate with Heritage Conservation Network) had to tell us a story of a friend who found a human leg when she was allowed to enter her home.
The locals were really nice to us, too. One guy was baking bread that day, and he brought us a loaf. :) Nobody was nearly as thrilled with the presidential tour. Ahh, and we had some press exposure, too. I'm stock footage for a New Orleans news station, and a potential story picture for the Atlanta Journal Constitution. One other news crew, too, but I don't remember which one ...
So yeah, we got a lot accomplished, but the amount of material still untouched could take another month to sort. Between the lumber, furniture, photographs, Nazi paraphanalia, roofing materials, hardware, glass, and whatever was making the decomposition smell, the next few salvage groups have their work cut out for them.
But now it is time for sleep. Good night.
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