A note from Mark

A note from Mark
Dear Ones, How in the world do I begin? Flew in on one of only two flights in all day to what was left of New Orleans Airport. The plane circled over the most awesome destruction from horizon to horizon I have ever witnessed. Miles of mud, buildings ripped apart, water everywhere, the world turned upside down. We circled over Lake Ponchartrain which was the gigantic lake that poured in through the ruptured levee and buried the city along with the 28 foot wall of ocean that exploded into the city at 100+ miles per hour during Hurricane Katrina's attack 3 weeks earlier. We landed and taxied around the entire airport to the only open gate and I did not see a single plane anywhere. Huge steel hangers ripped apart like sardine cans. The jetways that come out from the buildings that you walk down to get on the planes hanging like ripped laundry from a clothesline. Vehicles still lying scattered about. No people....nothing....desolate. My companion, Maryann Moore and I got our backpacks and walked through long dark, empty hallways to get our baggage, which was easy to find with only one plane coming in out of only 2 all day. We were waiting for Pastor Troy Bohn out front to take us to the relief center. We met a lady standing there whose home was under water but was not allowed near the entire part of the city since it had been completely sealed off. The water was so full of sewage, asbestos, and dead bodies that it was a virtual toxic, potentially lethal "stew" and no one was allowed in. She was going to find someplace to stay. Her 39 year old son had committed suicide. She said she had "read the Koran and read the Bible like just another book". Although she claimed to be "the atheist in her family" and "was the strong person", she was very eager to allow us to hold her and pray for her. I could feel her tremble as we held her. We were standing out on the center island in the middle of the street, praying and holding this terrified "strong atheist" when Pastor Troy pulled up in a van, saw what was going on, and I guess he figured we were the ones he came to pick up. We loved him from the start. He was walking the gospel of Christ. Feed them, love them, hold them, shelter them, and give them hope by bringing them to Me. We got to what was left of Crescent City Baptist Church in a section of New Orleans called Metairie, which was a short distance from where the levees between the bowl of New Orleans and the huge lake Ponchartrain had been ripped open. The ride there took your breath away. Gas stations ripped apart. Huge trees lying on ripped open homes. Cars tumbled everywhere. Where there would normally be a sidewalk and yard in front of a home was a mountain as high as the house of carpet, clothes, curtains, mattresses, all their treasured personal things, pictures,and all their furniture soaked in mud and thick mold. Everyone's refrigerators standing there on the sidewalks strapped shut with duct tape since they were full of rotten food and mud. Block after block after block of mountains of debris and the "clean-up" had not really started! The stench in some areas was real bad since the sewer lines had ruptured and the normal drainage system was shot and flooded. Out of 174 huge pump systems it takes to keep this area drained, only a few were functional. The ocean, the lake, and the Mississippi River area on all sides and are 10 feet higher above the level of the city. We got to the church, found empty rooms to throw our gear and began to work. Endless pallets of stacks of cardboard boxes stuffed with donated clothes, food, etc. Pallets of bottled water that extended half a block. Diesel trucks bringing in ice since there was no refrigeration. A gymnasium converted to a clothing center with a handful of folks scrambling to separate a "Mt. Everest" of clothing into neatly stacked piles of men's, women's, and children's items. Underwear here, shoes there, pants over there, etc. A huge pile of donated heavy coats and hats piled in a corner since they don't really have winter. It was 97 degrees with 70% humidity. You just stayed soaked. The "cold water" out of the faucets, which was unsafe to drink, was very warm. The ocean was 80-90 degrees in the gulf. Since we arrived at 4 pm in the afternoon, we jumped aboard one of 2 vans pulling trailers packed with food, water, clothes, diapers, baby food, etc and headed out into the tenements where the people had been too poor or too scared to leave. We were in Jefferson Parish (County) where the rescue helicopters and boats had been shot at. We saw nothing of the sort by the time we got there. The looters and gangs had been dealt with or had fled. All that I saw were thousands of precious poor people that had been lost in the shuffle. Flooded, but had no where else to go. One 10 year old little girl cried out, "I prayed to God to send someone to help us. I prayed and prayed and now you've come." The Red Cross and FEMA were somewhere but not in New Orleans. It was as if God's hand had held them back so He could be glorified and people would have a chance to come to Him. 85 to 90% of any aid or personnel making into the devastated areas were from churches all over the nation. The food and clothing distribution centers were at a few local churches. We knocked on doors in these “project” type neighborhoods until we found people and then they would come and keep coming until we were handing out items as fast as you could grab them. We would hug these folks, pray over them and cry with them. 3-4 people would come to Christ every time we went out. You would be standing there embracing one of these dear people and they would be blessing YOU. I can't really describe what it was like to have Christ move through your arms and hands like that. It was beyond anything I have ever experienced even after 34years of taking care of patients in hospitals. I have never known such joy as I felt crying over and over and over again with people I had never met but was able to give them food, water, clothes. During the evening and early the next morning, I scrambled through mountains of boxes trying to glean any medical supplies I could find. There hadn't apparently been a medical person there except for a doctor in a mobile clinic that worked out in other areas. She gave me 10 vials (200 doses) of Tetanus vaccine and some vials of injectable insulin for diabetics. She also gave me syringes and needles. With the mountains of debris that people were climbing through, this was very valuable. God provided an amazing amount of very badly needed dressings, antibiotics, medications, splints, of all types. One man came in who had been walking his dog and got robbed and beaten with a gun. His face was cut up and he had many loose teeth but we were able to treat him with what God had provided. People came in with diabetes out of control, which could kill them if unchecked. They had been unable to get any supplies to test their blood glucose levels which they have to be able to do daily and often more. Buried in boxes of clothes I found a case of complete, brand new testing kits and the machines that go with them. God had provided. The convalescent hospitals were destroyed. There was only one hospital in all of New Orleans that was semi-functional. People had been forced to take their elderly parents home that were bed-ridden and required total nursing care, very complex and hard to find medical devices, drainage bags, catheters, etc, and could do nothing for themselves. Their overwhelmed children would come to me crying. Their houses were almost wiped out and here they had to provide materials and care for their loved ones they were unprepared and unequipped to do. God led me to cases of adult diapers, pads for the beds, sheets, very specialized dressings, and the very items they never thought they would ever find or obtain since there was no mail, no funds, no medical supply stores intact. God provided. An elderly woman came in with a broken ankle. I had what I needed to care for her. As I sat next to her with her leg on my legs to support it while I wrapped and dressed it, she sat there crying and praying blessings on me. We hugged and cried together. A boy came in whose mom had had a foot amputated. God led me to boxes that had a Ziploc bag of the same type of very unusual dressing material that would have been available in a first class hospital and they were in a box marked "food". As I was flying from one person to the next, a little lady came up to me named Donna and asked what she could do to help. I asked if she could help write down all the names of the people I was immunizing with Tetanus vaccinations. Her husband had died, her house was wiped out, and she wanted to help. Another woman’s husband had died just before hurricane hit and her house was still under water. A young woman in her twenties came in who had 3 little children. She had asthma and had run out of her medications. I had no medications for asthma. She had bad bronchitis and as I sat next to her and was listening to her lungs with a stethoscope she leaned on me, exhausted. She began to cry so I took the stethoscope out of my ears and tried to comfort her. She looked at me and cried, “I can’t find my Daddy, I can’t find my Daddy”. It is impossible to separate each face from the flood of people I saw, hugged, prayed for, and cried with. I don’t care how tough you think you might be or how calloused you may be afraid your heart might have become, you will not come back the same person. It is also impossible to describe the hearts of some of the wonderful people you serve along side of. The workers were constantly bringing people over who needed medical help. Heat exhaustion was common for people from cooler climates. 0One brought this man in who had been working outside moving boxes of materials. He was a policeman from Ohio. The pavement had been so hot, he had large burn blisters on almost every toe. They covered almost the length of the underside of his toes. As I sat there with his feet on my legs cleaning his feet and putting burn dressings on his toes I thought of Jesus washing the disciple’s feet. It was such an honor to do these things. I helped him put his shoes back on and gave him plenty of material to redress his feet since the chance of infection was so high. I walked outside to get a bottle of water later and saw that he had gone right back to work moving more boxes on that hot pavement. Every so often, I would find myself just leaning against a wall to weep. It was hard to see so many people hurting so bad. Sometimes holding them and praying over them was all we could do. Many hadn’t heard from or found family members. Many had lost loved ones. I saw over 20 people including babies with a strange rash that I was sure was from all the mold on everything. We were going to stay till Saturday 9/24/05 but Thursday morning we were watching a small TV we had by the medical center to stay aware of the status of Hurricane Rita. At first, it looked like it was going to miss us but it began to turn north and began to head right toward Louisiana. We found out they were going to shut down the airports in New Orleans and Baton Rouge for several days and an evacuation order had been given for the entire area. Leaving was so very hard but we had no choice. I called New Orleans Airport and was told they had one flight out and it was full but God provided us with the last seats. We moved everything we could inside the church, covered everything with tarps, strapped them down, hugged good-bye and scrambled to the airport. The rain was already beginning and the winds were getting strong even though Rita was still 200 miles offshore. As we flew out, the plane had to go to 40,000 feet, change course toward the projected path of Rita, and veer real wide around some monstrous thunderheads rising as high as we were. The sun was beginning to set so they were all in fire colors. I will never forget that sight and these weren't even the frontal bands of the storm. I hurt so bad for those people I knew were still down there. I called Pastor Troy to see how his family was doing and if they had made it out safe. He calmly answered, "We're doing fine, brother. Got a little rain." I asked, “Where are you? Did you make it to high ground?" He answered almost cheerfully, " Oh, we're here at the camp. We're just cooking lunch for everybody. Got to make sure everyone's got something to eat." I hung up and just wept. My dear, dear, friend and his family were standing there in that wind cooking food for folks that were still there. May God hold them close. I will go back. You have to go. You will not come back the same person. 1 John 3:18 says, "Let us not love with words or tongue but with action and in truth." Feed them, clothe them, hold them, and bring them to Christ.

I love you, Mark