A Veteran's Journey

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Last September (2022), Southwest Florida was devastated by Hurricane Ian, a Category 5 Atlantic hurricane. The statistics were (and continue to be) astounding:

• Third-costliest weather disaster on record
• Deadliest hurricane to strike the state of Florida since 1935
• Fort Myers, Cape Coral, and Naples were the hardest hit in SW Florida
• Highest wind speed – 162mph
• 161 Fatalities: 150 in Florida, 5 in North Carolina, 5 in Cuba, and 1 in Virginia
• $113 billion dollars damage

Yeah… the numbers are important… for some people.

For those that lived through it, those who returned to whatever was left of their homes, and those that continue a daily struggle of existence, these numbers don’t mean that much. They are news headlines.

Last October (2022), 10 days after Hurricane Ian made its way through Florida and farther north to the Carolinas, a group of UMCOR ERT (United Methodist Committee on Relief—Early Response Team) volunteers from Trinity United Methodist Church in Gainesville, headed down to Fort Myers… Into the Aftermath.

I had volunteered with this group and completed training only a couple of months earlier. I didn’t know what to expect; I don’t think any of us did.

We were in North Fort Myers for almost 3 days, working in two different locations, helping clean out debris, “muck out” the houses, salvage whatever we could, and spent time helping the homeowners. I was so moved at the time, I wrote a blog post one night during our stay in the host church, Good Shepherd United Methodist Church.

To this day, as sad as the situation was, that post remains one of my favorites. That experience truly impacted me in a way I simply cannot explain. And… it still does.

Return to the Aftermath

This Sunday (August 20, 2023), another group of ERT volunteers are heading back down to Fort Myers. I’m one of them. Me… a US Navy Veteran (’73-77).

I normally post my blog (A Veteran’s Journey) on Tuesdays (Navy Friday Funny on Fridays) and I’ll try to post this one on Tuesday, keeping to my regular schedule. I believe we’ll have Internet access in the church—Good Shepherd UMC is hosting us again.

Good Shepherd has steadily been hosting volunteer teams throughout this whole ordeal. I know other churches and organizations are also hosting other volunteers, cause… that’s what you do.

But I’m writing this post before we deploy. I’ll probably also write another one after we return, just to complete the story.

This Year Will Be Different

This year, instead of cleaning out debris, toting refrigerators, stoves, washers, and dryers and dumping them onto the curb, our task will be to help rebuild. It should be a little calmer, but I also tell myself, the folks in the area we’ll be working have been out of house and home for almost a year.

I cannot fathom. That’s not something I’ve ever experienced.

This year, we have a smaller team—six of us. Several of us are retired, several still working. But they’re taking time off from their jobs, their schools, their families, to help others rebuild their homes and their lives.

That, to me, is amazing.

In today’s world in the continuous barrage of bad news and headline grabbers, I remind myself that there is a lot of good, a lot of kindness, and wonderful people that want to help. And it’s not just this trip to Fort Myers. There are people all over the world who help those who need help.

Volunteers

When we were in Fort Myers last year, I was constantly amazed at the number of volunteers, like our ERT team, that were helping out other homes, businesses, families, even helping the helpers.

Tents and tables with food, water, supplies… people driving around with water and food containers to hand out… churches, boy & girl scouts… volunteers from out of state. It was truly an eye opener that so many people from so many places came to help people they’ve never met and will probably never see again.

There is a lot of good in this world, my friends. A LOT!

I also realize that those who live in Maui are facing dire circumstances. They’ve got a long road to recovery, but they need that initial immediate help. I know there are people, agencies, and organizations who are working toward that.

Of course, I ask myself this question (once again)… with all the cruise ships that make gazillions of dollars off trips and tours to Hawaii, why don’t they step up to the plate? They could house and feed thousands of misplaced persons almost immediately. Sure, they may lose a few dollars in revenue but think of all the positive publicity they’d get… the “optics.” I guaran-damn-tee ya’, I’d much rather book a cruise with a company that helps out in disasters than one who ignores them.

But then again, no one asked my opinion.

Finishing up

This post is a bit shorter than my usual (yes, it’s okay to cheer). While we still have a couple of days before we deploy, I’ve got a ton to do. This year, I’m the ERT “team leader.” I’m still trying to figure out what that means, but I have a lot to coordinate, both here in Gainesville before we leave as well as down in Fort Myers. Fortunately, we’ve got a great team and they’re all pitching in to help.

I’ll be honest. I’ve had a few sleepless nights this past week or so. Those dastardly “checklists…”

You know what I’m talking about… do I take these tools or will we really need them? Did I make the right choices for food? Do we have enough room in our vehicles for everything? Have I prepared our team for this trip…

Yeah, the list goes on and on. But I’ve been there before.

We do what we can with the people we have in the amount of time we’ll be there.

We’ll be fine.  

I’ve posted this little, short story before, but to me, it speaks volumes in times like this:

One day a man was walking along the beach, when he noticed a boy hurriedly picking up and gently throwing things into the ocean. Approaching the boy, he asked, “Young man, what are you doing?” The boy replied, “Throwing starfish back into the ocean. The surf is up and the tide is going out. If I don’t throw them back, they’ll die.” The man laughed to himself and said, “Don’t you realize there are miles and miles of beach and hundreds of starfish? You can’t make any difference!”

After listening politely, the boy bent down, picked up another starfish, and threw it into the surf. Then, smiling at the man, he said,

“I made a difference to that one.”

Until we meet again,
Andy

Previous blogs mentioned in this post:

• #128—Into the Aftermath