09/02/05: The Rolling Duffel Project begins

This afternoon, I sent an email to friends asking if anyone wants to help with a unique project to help the hurricane victims displaced by Hurricane Katrina, which hit New Orleans and the U.S. Gulf Coast five days ago. Following is an excerpt from the email:

Hello, everyone.

As we all know, the situation in New Orleans is simply horrific. I'm writing to ask if you want to help in a specific way.

Here in Dallas, we are receiving busloads of people from New Orleans as I type this. The main Red Cross shelter is currently located at Reunion Arena in downtown Dallas. It's the old home of the Dallas Mavericks and Dallas Stars. Last I heard, there were 25,000 hurricane evacuees headed to Dallas.

I just left Reunion Arena. Buses are coming in, and people are getting off the buses with nothing but their lives. Lots of children. A lot. They good news is, they're alive. But they have nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I decided last night to be more proactive. I'd been thinking about this over the last couple of days, and not found the solution I wanted. I wanted to adopt a family, and get them personal items that they might need over the next couple of weeks as they live in shelters. I am well aware that their road will be much longer than two weeks, but they have to start somewhere. Right now, many of them are starting 15 minutes from my house.

I found nothing on adopting a hurricane family. So I'm doing it myself, and asking if you want to help.

I drove to Reunion Arena this morning, not knowing if I'd even be allowed to speak with anyone since I'm not with the Red Cross. But I had to try. I had to.

As I got to the entrance of the arena, there were many families outside. I walked up to a young woman with a baby and introduced myself. Her name was Tina, and she was in her late teens or early twenties. She was also with her mother, and her teenage sister, all from New Orleans. I asked them what they needed. Anything I could do, she quietly said, absolutely anything. She was the most polite young woman I've ever met. Her mother seemed to be in some sort of shock, or perhaps deep despair; she wasn't speaking and was very despondent. I asked her if her baby needed formula. Yes, he did. Similac Advanced Plus Iron. They had formula there, but it wasn't the right kind, she said. I suggested other items, and she said yes, please. I also got their clothing sizes, and asked if they'd be in that spot 90 minutes from now. She said yes.

As much as I dislike WalMart, for a myriad of reasons that I won't get into on this blog, that's where I headed. It's the closest store to Reunion, and I needed a place with both clothes and household items.

The first thing I got was a rolling duffel bag so they'd have a place to keep their few things. People are walking around at Reunion with plastic garbage bags if they're lucky, and with just a few items in their arms or strewn out next to them if they don't have a garbage bag. They've been treated horrible enough as it is; they don't deserve to keep their few belongings in trash bags.

I bought a few clothing items (the Salvation Army is bringing in clothes, but I wanted them to have at least one new item of clothing), deodorant, a hairbrush and ponytail holders, Tampax, baby wipes (they have diapers at the shelter), a flashlight and batteries, two packs of underwear, toothpaste and toothbrushes, baby bottles, washcloths, snacks, Ibuprofen, and other miscellaneous small items. Oh, and most important, a two week supply of Similac Advanced Plus Iron. I loaded it all into the rolling duffel bag. My bill was $129. The Similac alone was $22 for two small containers.

I rushed back to Reunion, and the family was in the exact same place as I'd last seen them. The mother, who didn't speak earlier, saw me drive into the lot in my car, and nodded and gave me an oh-so-slight smile. I delivered the bag and also enclosed a note telling them they could call me anytime, if there was anything, absolutely anything, that they needed.

As I was walking from the parking lot, I encountered a mother with three children - a girl around 11, a boy around 6, and boy who was 3. The girl asked me where I was from. I told her Dallas. I asked if she was from Louisiana. Yes, they were from New Orleans. We chatted for a bit. I asked her what size the little boy wore. 3T. I told her I have a big bag of 3T boys clothes sitting at my house right now that she could have. She started crying and hugging me. I gave her my phone number, and told her to call me when she got settled inside - that I'd meet her up there again.

There are so many people that need our help right now. I am willing to drive back and forth from the shelter to a store all weekend long, if I had the money to buy goods for these wonderful people who have been through hell. But I'm almost out of money. I've donated $250 thus far, and hope to do another $250 worth of goods for families when my husband gets paid today. That money was going to a credit card bill, but fuck it.

If you would like to help in this manner, let me know.

With this, The Rolling Duffel Project began.

TOTAL ROLLING DUFFELS DISTRIBUTED AT REUNION ARENA TO DATE: 1