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A UMNS Commentary
By Kathy L. Gilbert*
1:00 P.M. EST Aug. 30, 2010
Five years ago, I was on an assignment in Monrovia, Liberia, when
Hurricane Katrina crashed into the Gulf Coast. The pain was
instantaneous as I watched the fury of the storm unfold on CNN. The
shocking images were surreal as I watched in a country a world away
from everything that was familiar to me.
I thought my grief was mine alone.
The Sunday after Katrina, my work brought me to a rural Liberian
United Methodist Church. That was the beginning of an incredible
journey filled with many sad images, but amazing stories of faith.
At Reeves Memorial United Methodist Church, the pastor called me to
the front of the church where children surrounded me. They, who know so
much about suffering, offered me comfort simply because they knew
Louisiana was the place of my birth.
Liberia is not a place of comfort.
At that time, there was no electricity or running water anywhere in
the country. The church was filled with children because most were
orphans. They lost their parents to a bloody civil war or to AIDS and
other life-robbing diseases or to crippling poverty.
Alberta Page, 83, rode out the storm in her historic home in Biloxi, Miss. A UMNS file photo by Mike DuBose.
View in Photo Gallery
They gave me $20 and a message to take home: “From the children of
Reeves Memorial United Methodist Church to the children of Louisiana
USA, in solidarity with their plight in the wake of destruction of
Hurricane Katrina.” In a country where 80 percent of the population
lives below the poverty line, $20 is a fortune.
I came back to my office at United Methodist Communications with
an urgent need to get to Louisiana fast and deliver that gift. That
marked the first of many trips I made to the Gulf Coast to report on
the remarkable work the church has done and is doing in the wake of
Katrina.
Better day coming
I got another lesson in courage and grace from Ella Doyle, a member
of Hartzell Mount Zion United Methodist Church in Slidell, La., a few
Sundays later. Standing on the parking lot of her ruined church, she
told members of her congregation, “God has got a better day coming.”
Doyle survived the terror of Hurricane Katrina aboard a boat with
her husband and two sons. At one point, both of her sons disappeared
beneath the water and her husband stopped breathing. But all survived.
“I stood up in that boat and prayed,” she said. “I have no desire to
walk around telling people I lost this or that; I didn’t lose nothing.
The only thing we need to worry about is whether we are going to see
heaven.”
Another remarkable woman I think of often is Alberta Page, 83, who
rode out the storm in her historic home in Biloxi, Miss. Sitting in her
tiny white FEMA trailer six months later, she told me, “Not one time
was I afraid.” A lifelong member of Saint Paul United Methodist Church,
she was steady in her faith. As volunteers from New York carried out
the ruined furniture and memories of her life, she was peaceful.
They cried. She did not.
“I never want to have a closet full of things again,” she said.
No place like home
So many people lost everything in the storm. Some were loaded onto
planes or buses not knowing their destination. Many started new lives
in those cities and will not return.
In 2005, children in Liberia presented a gift to Kathy Gilbert (right)
for the children of Louisiana. A UMNS file photo by Linda Green.
View in Photo Gallery
Earl Heider, 78, ended up in Franklin, Tenn., in a Red Cross
shelter. He couldn’t wait to get back home to New Orleans. He spent
several days in a tent on a highway overpass before he was rescued, at
times watching dead bodies float pass. He told me he came to New
Orleans in 1933 and he was going to spend the rest of his life there no
matter what kind of storm came along.
My most recent trip to New Orleans was a few weeks ago. People are
still grieving and rebuilding. Many are in need of medical care —
especially mental-health care. But there are bright spots like Hartzell
United Methodist Church that stands like a beacon in the Lower Ninth
Ward.
The deep down longing for New Orleans makes no sense. There really
is no explaining the love people have for this deeply flawed city hit
time and again by crisis.
And yet, I totally understand Earl. There is no place I would rather be.
*Gilbert is a multimedia reporter of 18-34 content at United Methodist Communications, Nashville, Tenn.
News media contact: Kathy L. Gilbert, Nashville, Tenn., (615) 742-5470 or newsdesk@umcom.org.
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