March 4, 2011 - Trip Reflections by Justin Weber

Since this is my first year going to Louisiana I didn't really know what to expect. When I got down there, I realized there was so much more work to be done. Every day I helped out I felt like I was progressively fixing the overall state of the area. By the end of the trip I thought about everything I did during the week and realized how many lives we affected. We had actually made a lasting impact in the community around us and those memories will stay with me for a very long time.

March 4, 2011 - Trip Reflections by Andrea Einhorn

I been looking for that.

"I been looking for that." At some point, haven’t we all said that?

Over the years, we have learned that work sites are rarely what we expect. We went to Mr. West’s home to move his furniture into a storage pod so his duplex house could be repaired. He and his wife live in one side. The other has been vacant since Katrina. He hadn't actually been inside since his youngest son died there a few years earlier. When we removed the wooden plank covering the doorway, we followed a narrow path into the first room.  There was no furniture to be seen, because it was surrounded by plywood, beams, boxes, bags, and ironically, at least 30 doors.

Every time we removed something from the apartment--glassware, empty cans, trinkets, antifreeze jugs (full and empty)--Mr. West asked, "Whatcha got there, darlin?” almost always followed by “I been looking for that!" He often wanted things put into his apartment, which was also piled high on either side of a narrow path with all the other things he had to hold onto.

In our two days together, Mr. West told me many times about the intangible things he has holding onto: his career, home, military service, the son he lost. People recovering from Katrina face daily struggles of holding on and letting go as they rebuild. We provided Mr. West with the foundation he needed for reconstructing and moving on: physically with manual labor, and emotionally, with support, understanding, compassion. At some point, can’t we all say, “I been looking for that?”   

March 4, 2011 - Trip Reflections by Josh Berlowitz - (The Unabridged Version)

After five years on the Gulf Coast trip, not much surprises me.  I've seen the slabs of foundations and rundown houses.  I've witnessed the happy and thankful faces of the people we touch.  So the thing that struck me this year was change.  When I first went on the Mitzvat Mississippi trip in 7th grade, I was one of the youngest of over fifty people from four religious organizations, around five of whom had gone down to the Gulf Coast before on a relief mission.

This year, less than half of our team of twenty-three was traveling for the first time.  However, more prevalent than the difference in our group makeup is the transformation down on the coast.  Unlike most, I've seen the coast change over time.  I remember when we first went to Camp Coast Care to get supplies year two when the camp was an enormous complex with hundreds of volunteers.  I remember how we had race each other into the camp for showers year three because there were none where we stayed.  And I recall going to Blizzard Beach across the street nearly every day that year and the year after, when some of us destroyed Camp Coast Care.

This year, that spot is home to an arts center.  A brand new building dedicated to the improvement of the community through the arts. Yet on that road filled with shiny new buildings, there are still the sheets of foundation without houses, the rundown buildings nobody has come to claim, and the overgrown lawns that no one has tended in years, all of which I've become accustomed to seeing.  A new experience for me this year was when the director of the Lower Ninth Ward Community Center told us his story about his dedication to his community and how many of his friends and neighbors have still not returned home.  This made me think of Rabbi Tarphon’s words when he said that "We cannot complete the work; neither are we free to desist from it.

Even though our group, the landscape, the community, and the times may have changed, there is still work to be done in repairing the Gulf Coast. We cannot and will not complete the work, yet it is still our duty to travel down year after year and make a dent in the workload. Eventually, the rebuilding of the Gulf Coast will be complete,  however without each of us doing our own part; it won’t be in the foreseeable future.

March 4, 2011 - Trip Reflections by Andy Farber

Last summer our camp in Mississippi was closing and we had to find alternate housing.  I contacted the URJ, the RAC, Federation - no one seemed to care. Ultimately, we went to Camp Restore in New Orleans.


I had made three trips to Mississippi after Katrina. I was disappointed that we were going to New Orleans.  Everyone seemed to forget Mississippi in the post-Katrina publicity, and now we were just as guilty.


But it's not just Mississippi.  Five and a half years later, the world has forgotten the Gulf Coast.  Yes, there was a lot of press last spring following the BP oil leak, and the networks had Katrina retrospectives on Labor Day.  But those quickly faded.


But the need persists. New Orleans, the most visible benefactor of support, has miles of vacant and abandoned properties.  Imagine driving down Central Avenue, and seeing shopping center after shopping center boarded up, grass and weeds growing in the parking lot.  That's what it's like in the suburbs of New Orleans - and it's been over five years.


The United States is often first to help other countries in the face of natural or man-made disaster.  That's a record to be proud of.  But we must remember our own.  As the flight attendant says, affix your oxygen mask first, before helping others.


We can all stand tall, Woodlands Community Temple and Dobbs Ferry Lutheran Church.  We give our time and money, and our friends and congregants open their wallets, to help us remember our own.

Ken ye-hee rah-tzon

March 4, 2011 - Trip Reflections by Mark Kaufman

I did not expect this trip to be both frustrating and fulfilling.

Frustrating because much of New Orleans is still a blighted, impoverished mess, and we couldn't fix it. Not in a week, or a month, or a year. Because my planting 50 trees is not going to slow the next storm. Frustrating because sanding spackling on sheet rock does not complete a home. And because two days of clearing out and storing all the junk Mr. West hoarded in his house wasn't enough even to empty the house, let alone to demolish the interior and rebuild it.

But the trip was fulfilling at the same time. Because together with other groups we planted thousands of trees that WILL slow down the next storm. Because sanding is part of making a new home, and making it beautiful for someone who'll be proud to live in it. Because other groups in the coming weeks will clear out Mr. West's house, and demolish it, and re-build it - and while we were there, our team was truly greater than the sum of our individual parts. (We couldn't have done it without the amazing strength of a neighbor and ex-con named Glenn - but he couldn't have done it without us, either.)

And because tree by tree, house by house, person by each blessed person who feels valued by our visit, New Orleans can be restored, or at least, improved.

The trip improved me, as well. I'm proud that my son Zev joined me. I'm grateful for the opportunity to do a mitzvah with him and with all of us.

March 4, 2011 - Trip Reflections by Greg Linn

During our week in New Orleans, all 23 of us from WCT & DFLC met some wonderful, extraordinary and unique characters: Mac at the Lower 9th Ward Community Center, Laurie at the Ranch Rescue Horse Farm, the congregation at Touro Synagogue and many, many others. The common thread that they all shared, was one of thanks.

They thanked us passionately and repeatedly, truly appreciating that 5 1/2 years after Hurricane Katrina, we were still coming down to their neighborhoods for volunteer work. Many of them spoke about feeling forgotten now that so much time has passed, when in reality, they need our help, energy and friendship more than ever.

Beyond the hauling, planting and shoveling that we all did, there was a more important gift we gave to our new friends, listening. We listened to their stories, we heard about their families, we relived their memories. Some of them were joyous, several were tragic, but ultimately they were all uplifting.

Never in my life have I been more blessed. Literally. Whether it was prayers from Pastor Scott, Mr. West or the team at Camp Restore, the words "Thank You" and "May God Bless You" have never had greater meaning or importance to me and I will forever keep that feeling in my heart and my memories.

March 4, 2011 - Trip Reflections by Jay Werner

This was my 5th trip to the Gulf Coast. Previous trips have been about trying to make a family whole again by making their home livable. This year however we shifted our focus from Mississippi to New Orleans, and in doing so we have found much more work to do. Not just rebuilding homes, but also trying to ease the pain of the “new” normal of a populace largely displaced and primarily forgotten.

This trip I got to work with ARC an organization that provides hope, vocational training, and gainful employment for adults who are developmentally disabled.(This is a segment of our population most of us usually forget about). ARC of New Orleans has a 5 year old bead recycling program in association with the Sierra Club and United Way. I was lucky enough to work with Theodore, Terrance, and Michael, three men my age and older. We sorted and bundled 2 pallets full of beads (800-1000 lbs.). Last year they gathered, sorted, bundled and sold over 90,000 pounds of beads, this year they expect to exceed 100,000 pounds. The proceeds from the sale go back into their programs such as a green house, farm stand, vintage garden soup kitchen, landscaping program, and other job training programs for men and women like my son Lucas. I plan on going back every year for as long as it takes to make the lives of those forced to endure such hardships as those we encountered in New Orleans whole once more.