"Almost everything about my reaction to the hurricanes changed after experiencing just 6 hours of trying to help. It's unbelievable—the devastation I have witnessed is just beyond anyone's imagination. But, my desire to help was never changed and the hope of the people down here has not died. If there is one thing that bothers me about this trip, it's the fact that we have to leave. I just want to stay and help forever." —Beth Bauer, Senior Mathematics Major from Gillespie, Illinois

“The victims of Hurricane Katrina are truly some of the strongest people I’ve ever met. Physically, they exhaust their bodies every day putting in countless hours of work to rebuild their homes and neighborhoods. Frequently we’d be volunteering at one family’s house while that family would be offering a helping hand to the family next door. There is no evidence of selfishness on the Coast—and that’s for sure.” —Christine LaPorte, Junior Mathematics Secondary Education Major from Oak Forest, Illinois

“I have never been with 15 other girls (and a Larry) for one week without any ‘catty-ness,’ no talking about people or complaints about others, none of that normal ‘girl crap.’ We were all there for one simple reason, to help people in need. And we did.” —Deanne Drechsler, Senior English Education Major from Oak Lawn, Illinois

“After talking to the families and hearing their stories all I could think was, ‘How do they do it? How do they get up everyday to see there homes gone?’ One day I asked those questions to a lady and she said, ‘You guys. You guys are the ones that keep us going.’ Hearing that made me feel like we were down in Mississippi for a good purpose.” —E.J. Rasine, Sophomore Business Management Major from Bensenville, Illinois

“I have realized how this trip has helped give me strength, and it has shown me the burning desire that is inside me to do this kind of work for the rest of my life. I would love to travel around the world helping people who are suffering after a disaster. Any disaster really, because essentially life can be a disaster, so anywhere there is life, there are people going through disasters.” —Jennifer Forrest, Senior Human Services Major from Farmer City, Illinois

“I was greatly inspired by a family that a few of us helped. All we did was helped prime one of the rooms, painted and primed about 24 large boards that were going to be used for trim, and painted the front and back of four doors. But in return this family gave me so much more; they impacted my life and have left an impression that will last me my lifetime.

Imogene was the owner of the house; she is 84 years old and lives at her house with two of her children, fraternal twins in their mid 30’s. One of her other son’s Lin has been basically remodeling and rewiring the entire interior portion of the house.

While priming one of the rooms I looked over to see Imogene sitting in a chair repairing the door knobs on a couple of the doors. Later Lin told me his mother’s health condition has not been good, she had two brain tumors, one that was removed and one that could not be taken out, which has interfered with her equilibrium, making her have an imbalance. He explained that she could not stand for very long and that’s why she had to sit in a chair most of the time. However, throughout the entire day Imogene remained in the house watching as we helped repair her home, she had an urge to be present.

Lin has been working on his mother’s house everyday since Katrina hit, he balances his time between going to his own job, and working on the house before and after work. He probably wants the house to get finished as quickly as possible so his mother can be at peace. Imogene made a comment to us how she once saw every board laid in that house, her kids grew up there, the house contains their memories, their lives.

Imogene and her two kids that live with her stayed in the house throughout the hurricane, until the flood waters got too high, about three feet, and they retreated to the safety of the Church across the street, where they again had to retreat up to the second floor of the Church in order to escape the flood waters. Lin told me he made Imogene flee to her brother’s for the first two weeks after the hurricane, so she would be away from the initial damage; she left with only the clothes on her back.

He told me that it has been volunteers from the North, East, and West that have given the people help through this disaster. He said volunteers have been in the southern states since the day after Katrina hit, and it is through them, people like us, that his family and community have restored hope and unity.

Another lasting impression this family will have on me, is how much they reminded me of my own family, of when I was younger. Lin’s daughters of ages 4, 6, and 8 and his wife were helping paint the house in the afternoon. I remember as a kid, about their ages, with my sister and brother helping our parents remodel our house. So I could put myself in their situation, they were a middle class family working on their grandmother’s or mother’s house, helping get her life back together. Then at the end of the day they were rushing around making plans to attend a soccer game for the oldest daughter of age sixteen. It made everything seem so much more real. These people’s lives have been turned upside down, but they’re working hard at getting it back into order. They could have let this disaster defeat them, but they haven’t, they’re still living out their normal lives the best they can.” —Jessica Forrest, Senior Environmental Biology Major from Farmer City, Illinois

"The most amazing part of this trip has been listening to people's stories. Each of them is a testament to the power of faith and hope. What has struck me most about the people we have met is their determination and even their optimism. I just hope I can find the words to explain to people back home the true weight of the situation down here. I've never seen anything like this before, not to mention trying to put it into words...it's just not possible. The drive home along the coast was nothing less than exhausting. At first we couldn't take our eyes off the destruction, but after a while we couldn't bring ourselves to look out." —Karin McNamara, Freshman Musical Theater Major from Naperville, Illinois

“Amidst all of this hard work there was still plenty of time for fun. This would include things like mattress racing and board games, like apples to apples. One night we even had a shower relay to see what group could get done with their showers the fastest and I think I can speak for a few people on my team and say that it was the fastest shower I had ever taken. In the end though, it led to a team victory. However, the other team, even today, would still say that we cheated.” —Karissa Jargo, Sophomore Nursing Major from Clinton Iowa

“I’ve found that a lot of people have different opinions on what we did. Most people who found out what we had done were really supportive of it. There were a few people though that didn’t really seem to think we should have gone. They felt that these people should deal with it on their own. I really can’t believe anyone would feel that way, and if they do, then they really don’t know what is like down there for these people. There is no way they can do this on their own and they really shouldn’t have to. The damage is just too great. I’m glad I went and was able to help out. I would do it all over again if I could. Being down there I felt like I was actually helping someone. I was able to see the direct effect of our work down there working with the people.” —Katherine Klotz, Senior Biology Major from Atkinson, Illinois

“I think the most important thing that BreakAway taught me is that service is needed all the time, not just when something major happens. There is always something to do even in your own community, and no matter how scared you are of trying something new, someone always appreciates your help. BreakAway encourages a different mindset, a new outlook on volunteerism and service no matter where you are.” —Katie Schmid, Junior English Writing Major from Hanover Park, Illinois

“ As an urban sociologist, I watched with a mixture of dread and excitement as Hurricane Katrina headed for New Orleans. When the storm hit and the levees broke, I couldn’t get enough news about the flooding. Everyday as the storm approached, and then for weeks afterward, my eyes were glued to the CNN webpage. The Urban Sociology listserv I’m on was equally active. The devastation was so great, and the urban questions so extensive. How many people would die? Could a whole city really be destroyed? Could we rebuild a whole city? How would we do it? Since race and class affect our lives so much, how would they affect this disaster, especially with regard to the patterns to the flooding and which neighborhoods were going to be rebuilt and how? Since so many poor were trapped by the flooding, what would happen to them? What would happen to the glorious mixture of cultures that made New Orleans such a distinctive American city?

As the advisor for Breakaway, it was clear to me that doing hurricane relief this year was a no-brainer. I was thrilled, therefore, when Christine told me she had come to the same conclusion and was already planning. Although I had been the group’s advisor for many years, I hadn’t been free to go on any trips in the past. Now I was free and I was going! What a great opportunity to combine my scholarly, service, and activist interests! When I learned we were going to work in Mississippi, I was initially disappointed. New Orleans was the urban center that attracted my attention. But in time I came to appreciate the decision. By the time of the trip, four months later, most of New Orleans was still not to the point where a group of high spirited, but relatively unskilled, volunteers could be very effectively used.

On the afternoon we left, I was really excited. My chief concern though was, “How was I going to learn the names of these 15 students?” Thank God for digital cameras! Sitting in the back of the bus (Being the only male, it was ironic to be segregated in the back of the bus, on a trip down to Mississippi), and with the help of Rachel and Mary, I studied the picture we had taken before we left and the list of names. Within a day of being with these remarkable students, I had learned their names. Of course, by two months after the trip I was getting them all confused again. But by then, I was trying to learn the names of 60 of my new students also!

Once we were settled in Moss Point and Pascagoula, there was so much evidence of the destruction of Hurricane Katrina! The remnants of the huge houses along Beach Blvd, the washed out streets farther inland, the sign on a light post with a phone number tacked up by some local entrepreneur that asked “Got Mold?,” the descriptions from the ministers of how they shepherded their people during and after the storm, the high water marks left by the flooding in people’s houses. And I could go on and on.

One of the first issues I struggled with concerned service and social class. For years, my focus for service and service learning was the lower class, the poor. That’s why I got into service learning to begin with. But here we were helping people who were mostly middle class. Why were we spending our energies on them? Where were the poor? Most of the people we were helping were connected in some way to one of two different Methodist churches that appeared to have primarily white middle class congregations. I asked several of our contacts down there, “What happened to those not connected to the church? What help are they getting?” The answers were usually vague and non-specific; they didn’t know. I raised the question with the students during reflection on the first or second night, leading to an interesting discussion.

We did wind up helping a poorer, black family, which was identified by the church through a teacher who noticed a young boy in need and referred him and his family to Dantzler, and a white woman who seemed to be on a fixed income. But I never got a real answer to my question. Upon reflection, I’ve come up with two answers on my own. First, the area we were working in was a relatively affluent one, so of course those were the people we helped. Second, I imagine that most of the poor had just left the area and weren’t coming back, or didn’t own their own homes so we could help them in rebuilding.

These thoughts actually led me to what I consider to be the main lesson I took from this experience. The social network of churches is the only way in which this whole area is going to be rebuilt. The Methodist Church in general and Dantzler in particular were doing an amazing job in organizing the hundreds or thousands who want to volunteer. I know other churches are doing similar work. But the government has failed these people. The Red Cross helped for a while, but has pulled out. Habitat for Humanity is involved in some places. But you can see in a tangible way the value of the network of churches in disaster relief. I remembered that it was the network of black churches that provided the key organization required by the Civil Rights struggle of the 1950s and 1960s. And here was additional evidence of the power of these religious social networks to make significant, positive impacts on social life.

I remember talking with the survivors. Amber and Lewis had just moved back to the area and bought the house from her grandmother that her mother had grown up in. They had set it up the way they wanted, and then the floods destroyed the walls, and ruined the furniture as large tables and dressers floated around from room to room. She received virtually no insurance money for her loss, while her next door neighbor received about $50,000 and was living in a trailer on her own property. Yet Amber was so positive! Of course it had been four months since the storm, but she was just taking it one day at a time, and doing whatever she could. I felt so gratified when she talked about us saving her months of time she would have spent in the evenings after work. She told us that the help she received led her to conclude that the next time there’s a natural disaster, she won’t send money; she’ll go there and donate her own labor.

The guy across the street from Amber told me about a boat in the front yard. With this boat they rescued people caught in the attic and on the roof, and then tied the boat to the top of the tree. It still sits there, now on the front lawn, tied to that same tree. He told me about a neighbor who watched his Toyota Camry float away with the flood, and then return exactly where it started as the flood waters receded. He, like everyone else we spoke to, said that no storm had ever been this bad. No one, they said, could have predicted the amount of devastation. And they all said that if another storm comes, they will evacuate without a second’s hesitation, and probably leave the area for good!

I remember talking to Imogene and her daughter. They seemed only too happy to talk about their experiences, and I seemed to be doing a great service simply asking questions and listening to her. Imogene’s matter-of-fact descriptions demonstrated a great strength that she carried within her, while her daughter expressed anger at FEMA for making her mother wait two months to deliver a promised trailer, and then leaving without tying it down or hooking up the utilities.

Finally I remember Brother Bob, a deeply religious man, who thought he was being personally blessed by God when there was an extreme shortage of gasoline after the storm. The gas gauge on his truck didn’t move off full while he drove around all week, checking on his parishenors, running errands for them and picking up groceries and building materials. Like the story of Hannukah, when the oil in the lamps lasted until more could be collected, surely God was keeping his gas tank full. Toward the end of the week, his gauge suddenly registered empty as he realized it was broken and he ran out of fuel!

All of these people were so appreciative of the work we did and the help we provided. Amber’s mother-in-law told us she could see Jesus in our faces, as she provided us with a picnic lunch from the back of her pickup, including her own homemade sweet potato pie. Brother Bob expressed what others also reported. Our very presence, he told us, gave the people hope, and helped them feel that they weren’t forgotten and that things would be getting better. I still feel a deep satisfaction for helping these people when they were literally swept up by forces larger than themselves, and such gratitude to them for allowing us to enter their lives and bestow that help. In the end, there is little to compare with the deep emotional joy in providing such assistance. And there are not enough words to describe the deep respect and admiration I have for the 15 students and 1 colleague who gave up a week of their lives to assist others, and only talked about going back for more, because there is so much that still needs to be done. What a privilege to work and share this experience with them!

Finally, I can’t end this reflection without discussing the overwhelming sense of despair when we drove through Biloxi on the way home. We thought we had seen the destructive power of Hurricane Katrina by spending a week in Moss Point and Pascagoula. But driving along the coast into Biloxi was something that none of us was prepared for. I thought I was looking at hell through the window of a tour bus, and it was four months after the storm! Some cleanup had been started, but not much. Huge edifices like churches, restaurants, hotels, and office buildings had been flattened in a capricious manner as other sections of those same structures stood standing but appeared to have been bombed. Shreds of clothing and paper hung from the trees in the place of the leaves that should have been there. Cars and trucks had been crushed by falling debris or flipped over and left in improbable orientations. I later learned that Moss Point had not suffered the 30 foot storm surge that affected the coastline to the west; Biloxi was at the eastern edge of that surge.

I couldn’t take enough pictures to document what I was seeing, and then stopped as I felt numb in the face of the enormity of the wasteland. I looked inside the bus, and noticed the effects on the students. Some had simply withdrawn and gone to sleep. Others were still staring in ghostlike trances. I went up to talk to the bus driver, who was as shaken as the rest of us. I told him to head north as soon as he could and take us to an interstate. We had seen enough. He thanked me for suggesting that, saying he had never seen anything like this in his 17 years of driving a bus. Mary and I decided to do an impromptu reflection as soon as we were out of the area to help the students process this experience. I was so thankful for sharing this experience with her, knowing I could count on her emotional awareness and group facilitation experience.

Finally, I have to thank whichever student it was who thought to bring along a video of Mr. Holland’s Opus; a tearjerker for any teacher under normal circumstances. The experience of watching this movie as we drove back to Illinois in the dark allowed me to escape the Biloxi hell. More importantly, though, my happy tears as Mr. Holland sang “Beautiful Boy” to his deaf son and later when hundreds of his former students surprised him in the auditorium as he retired, ultimately helped me let down from the week. I cried for Mr. Holland, but also for the destruction of the Mississippi coast, the satisfaction from providing assistance to people, the joy and appreciation I received, and more than anything else, for the deep respect I had for the 16 wonderful women with whom I shared this powerful week.” — Larry Troy, Faculty Advisor from Decatur, Illinois

“Most importantly I learned that people are resourceful and resilient and that we can all learn from the people we helped that week. I learned that simply giving your time to help others makes a difference—throughout our week in Mississippi I was told several times by the individuals we met that the work we had done was great, but simply just that we were there and cared was enough to give hope to those dealing with this horrific disaster.” — Mary Garrison, Faculty Advisor from Bloomington, Illinois

“I enjoyed all of the wonderful people I got to meet in Mississippi. They were all so grateful for the work that we did. That is what made the experience worth while. I felt honored that I got a chance to come down to Mississippi and do something that really made a difference in peoples lives. I feel more complete helping others, and that is why I am proud to be apart of Millikin’s BreakAway.” —Melissa Redeker, Junior Nursing Major Watseka, Illinois

“The volunteering we did in Moss Point was not what impacted me the most, it was the people we had met and the stories they had told.  Whether it was someone from the church, those who we helped in their homes, or the other volunteers that we worked with, the connection between all of us was amazing.  As volunteers we were working towards one purpose, to leave the gift of hope and to show that people care.” —Rachel Wanderer, Senior Human Services Major from Lemont, Illinois

“Going on this trip was a spiritual adventure for me. Moss Point, Mississippi was nothing like I had expected. I was taken aback by the damage and how little things were progressing, but yet some how the people that lived there managed to put a smile on their face. God definitely showed himself to through the experiences I had. I had the privilege of helping this one particular family for several days. This was the family of Imogene. Through her, her son, and her granddaughters, I was blessed to see that I could make a difference, even if it was a little one, in someone’s life. I just wish we could have stayed and done more.” —Whitney Newlin, Sophomore Psychology and Human Services Major from Decatur, Illinois