My Second Visit

by Andrea Davis

This year was my second visit to Mississippi and I'm very glad I went back.  People and places all seem to be doing better.  More business open, people seemed to have a brighter outlook, the focus seemed to be on the future, not the devastating past.  Not to say there wasn't hardship and loss, but just a more positive attitude.  Also, our group was much better organized to adapt to the situation.  We learned from our previous visit how to be more efficient and how pre-planning would help many more families.  We also had very generous funding thanks to our wonderful church family.  I was thrilled how each team was set up to go to their site and use their particular skills to get the job done. 

I was team leader at Robby Gowan's house and my 6 team members finished mudding and sanding sheetrock. painted and painted, laid flooring and folded sheet metal to finish the outside trim.  Robby helped as he was able, but was just recovering from knee surgery.  His wife and children, Caleb 7, Abby almost 5, and Andrew 2 had been living in a 16 foot travel trailer for 2 years, and were very, very anxious to move into their re-built home. What a delight to help this Iraqi vet see his dream come true.  The team developed a good rapport and we enjoyed our work and each other.

The story I'm going to tell was not so funny at the time, but it ended well.  It was Thursday and we were trying to finish the flooring. Arley and Frank were in one bedroom, Charles and his good friend Paul were in another.  I was frantically painting the living room and kitchen ceiling so they could work their way down the hall. Shirley, an 84 year old grandma, who had been helping but needed a rest, decided to take a short walk in the neighborhood.  Robby and his family were gone, but Bob, the Mississippi director, was onsite to see how we were progressing.  All of a sudden there was a bad noise from the bedroom. Charles had tripped, and as he fell, dropped his hammer. Paul was on his knees with some flooring below, and his head happened to be in the same place as the flying hammer.  Blood everywhere, scrambling for the first aide kit, etc, etc.  Big bump, big bandage, and Bob taking Paul to emergency.  While we were all distracted, Shirley came back, not mentioning until later the nice policeman who had given her a ride. She had walked too far and tried to find a shortcut back.  A nice man called the cops because he was worried.  You can imagine the conversation.  What's your name?  Shirley.  Do you have ID?  No.  Where do you live?  California.  Why are you here?  Helping to re-build a house.  When Shirley told this story we were all laughing because she's sharp as a tack and still selling real estate in Grass Valley.  She was safe, Paul was fine and we all had a great story to tell.  And my Mississippi trip ended on a positive note, knowing we had all helped so many people see their devastated houses become their homes once again.