Cleaning Up Hurricane Sandy

Me in my snazzy yellow vest. Yes, that sailboat is washed up on its side.

Maybe, just maybe, you heard that a big hurricane slammed into the East Coast four weeks ago. We were right in the path of the hurricane, but our area really lucked out and mostly just suffered downed trees and power outages. We were one of the lucky few who didn't lose power at all. The worst that happened to us was a rain gutter being ripped off of our roof. No big deal, really.

Many other people, especially along the coast, weren't so lucky. You probably know that Staten Island was hit especially hard. On Saturday I went up there with a group from my church to help people clean up the destruction. This is a highly organized clean-up effort that has been taking place every weekend since the hurricane happened and is scheduled to take place throughout December as well. (You can read more about the Mormon Helping Hands program here.) It was an amazing experience.

That white house is condemned; the foundation is totally gone. In the front you can see remains of a building.

People. The destruction was absolutely UNREAL. Four weeks later, the streets were still strewn with rubble and house after house after house was visibly tilted or even completely knocked from its foundation. Cars were still hanging on fences, where they had been blown during the hurricane. Fences were knocked over. There were holes in the street. Most of the houses in that area had to be completely gutted because the water had come within an inch or two of the ceiling, destroying furniture, drywall, hardwood floors, etc. in the process. Some are so watersoaked and moldy that they are a total loss. And a huge number of homeowners don't know how they will possibly afford to rebuild. They didn't have flood insurance because of its exorbitant cost, and they are being denied loans for rebuilding because they didn't have flood insurance.

A massive hole in the street, next to a downed tree and remains of a destroyed building.

Initially we were sent to a specific home to assist someone who had requested our help. We swept in and within 20 minutes had finished the work that would have taken the owner a week to do on his own. After that, we fanned out into the neighborhood asking people if they needed anything. They were all surprised to be asked, and they were all grateful to say yes. In the end, I think we helped with five or six homes.

At one house, where we spent the bulk of our time, the owner had come by to open up her house without expecting to get any work done that day. She had two friends stop by to help out, and shortly after that we stopped by with 15+ people asking if there was anything we could do. Pretty soon we had cleared away four huge barrels of trash from her yard, swept an inch of dirt and sand from the deck, emptied out all of the sandbags littering her property, ripped out the hardwood floor, ripped up the subfloor, removed a brick fireplace that was in front of wet drywall, and cleared away all of the rubble created by those activities. She and her friends kept saying, "We could have never done this without you. Thank you, thank you, thank you."

This kind woman said to me, "Before the hurricane, I was really starting to lose my faith in humanity. So many bad things happen in the world; I was starting to lose my belief in good people. And then this happened. The day after the hurricane, forty people were here helping me out. Now there are all of you. I just can't thank you enough."

It was an inspiring day, and I'm glad I could be part of it. What struck me is that all of these people are in the midst of their own personal tragedy. I finished helping out and then drove home for a hot meal and a hot shower and kisses from my babies. The people we left behind still have so much more to do before they will be finished rebuilding their whole lives; hot water is the least of their concerns.

And all of us who helped? We are nothing special. Alone we can't do very much. But as part of a greater organization, we can help change lives and give people hope that things will get better. Let's hear it for organized religion.