Getting acquainted

I’ve been here a week and a day now and have met what seems like a hundred people. For the first three weekdays, it seemed like all I did was attend meetings and meet people. I’ve got a list of names, numbers and emails. They’re sort of coming together.

This weekend was the anniversary of the floods. Not the floods themselves, I don’t think, but the day the sirens went off to order the mandatory evacuation. I went to three of the events surrounding, and man, they were both depressing and uplifting.

Everyone was affected by the flood, either directly or indirectly. Yesterday, I was at a park that reopened (with a grant from Coke) and heard some of the stories of the people who were forced out of their homes. Some are back in, some aren’t. One lady was back in but then ordered by the city to move. It’s really sad overall because most of the world has no idea this is even going on.

The state fair, which was canceled last year because of the flood, will resume this year. The city (or someone) has gone into debt rebuilding that area but it looks fabulous.

In my first meeting of my AC service, I went to a meeting of several different flood relief organizations. One topic of business was trying to get publicity. Well, someone approached the fair director to try to get the fair’s headliner, Blake Shelton, to do something about flood relief. I’ve no idea of the specifics, but the fair liaison said no.

Well, on the way back, I was talking to my counterpart and I mentioned that I didn’t think it was the fair rep’s call. It’s the performers, but you have to get to the performer. My counterpart felt the same way. I mentioned that Blake Shelton was just one of the fair’s lineup.

So I chased down reps for some of the other performers, asking for permission to give away two tickets to the show and to be able to attend a 5-minute meet and greet-type thing. Thirteen hours later, a publicist from the Zac Brown Band called me to OK it. She was very interested in the entire Hope Village blueprint and I was happy to explain.

It’s really an original concept and it’s working. Last week we had something like 160 volunteers in and about 4000 hours of work hours from them. That’s awesome.

So now I am trying to brainstorm other ways to get the story out. I’m trying to work with the official PR person for the village to update the blog and Facebook page better, but right now she is on vacation until June 27. We’ll see how that works, but it seems like it’s going to be pretty positive.

It’s a novel concept – being appreciated at work. Cool deal.

Hope Village

Here's our sign, in front of  Our Savior Lutheran Church.

A view from the church parking lot. This is the street that faces the road where Walmart is, so people driving by would see it.

This is the right side of the complex, taken as you exit to the left of my door. Outside of the frame is another big tent, which, once the floor is installed, will be a rec tent.

My walk home. Note the "street signs." I'm as far from the "Hiltons" as you can get -- that's me, right in front of the trees. 

Here's our food tent, which also has a acouple of communal laptops and endless cookies.

Inside the food tent. Notice the quilts, which people made and donated. I believe capacity is something like 160 people.

Two of the three trailers that have bathrooms, showers and the washer-dryer combo units. It's about a city block from me.

View of our sidewalk, two of the shower/toilet/WD trailers and our chapel/rec room. Right now the AC is busted, but being from Florida it doesn't bother me. I've been working here some thing week because the wifi is better than out in the bled.

Our parking lot, a day after it  rained.

This is the tools shed and a view of some of the offices on site. We've got all kinds of stuff going on in the village, and it's all related to flood relief.

I'm home!

Here's my bedroom, almost in full. The only thing out of the frame (besides the shoes), is the other side of the bed. It's identical to this one, with the same size cupboard on that side. The mattress sticks out in all three directions, too. There is no walking space between the wall and the bed.

Photo taken from my bedroom into the rest of the RV. You can see the kitchen on the left, with my bathrobe on the door to the bathroom. Neither of those areas have running water. On the right, there is the little sofa (also pulls out to sleep more people - yeah, right) and the picnic table work area. The very back is the other room (Hi, Ashton!) with twin "bunk" beds (not really, but sort of).

My car in front of my side of the village. In front, you see our four "Hiltons." Our sidewalks are made of pallets and each little "road" has a name. That is, except the two RVs in the back. I'd like to get a sign and call us "the bled" for "the country," but that's down the road. I'm in the very back of this row.

Here's my front door. It has a second door, too, in the bathroom, but that's kind of blocked off with dirty laundry. The door itself doesn't close -- it lacks a screw and blows open unless it's locked. My room is in the front, and there is an FSU Booster tag in my window. It's home.

11 Months and 27 Days

Suddenly, “My Name is Earl” makes a lot more sense.

I made it and am in my RV. And it is an RV. I have a kitchen and a bathroom, but no running water. Go figure.

The port-a-potties are in one place, and the flush toilets/showers/washer dryer are in another.

The RV is smaller than my apartment in Indonesia, and I'll ultimately be sharing this little abode with another roomate. Oh, my.

They do have everything here, though. (And if they don't, Walmart is half a mile up the road.)

The actual grounds aren’t as big as I thought, although I don’t know what I was expecting. We’re also right in town, which, for whatever reason, I wasn’t expecting, either.

I honestly don’t have much of a clue what I was expecting. A bunch of trailers in a circle around a campfire, I guess. Like modern stagecoaches on the western trails.

And I thought everyone here would be here for months at a stretch. But now I think when I heard “long-term volunteers,” it meant “long-term for volunteers.”

There are many people here, but for the most part, the people are in for days or weeks at a time, not months. Right now, I think there are some exceptions but I’m not sure who all they are. I know that most people were quite surprised when I said I’d be here a year.

And right now, I’m kind of shocked at the thought, too. This place is kind of a mix of the kind of places I’ve lived lately, including the ranch.

The showers are a hike away. They are all in trailers – everything is, and that makes sense. I am not sure what the flooring is, but it’s lined with those rubber things you stand on to ease your back at places like the Y camp or the ranch. The hot water was dicey – the washer and dryer are separated by a barrier but in the same trailer. I had a little trouble washing my hair without freezing, but when the hot water works it’s fabulous.

The “sidewalk” leading to the trailers (there are four trailers and two RVs, plus other volunteers park their own RVs on the property) are made out of old pallets with particle board.

We eat in a circus tent, and on the inside the walls are lined with quilts. I’m pretty it’s for looks and not for insulation – they are very pretty.

There’s also a big rec trailer that doubles as a chapel. The circus tent has a bunch of games in it, too. Another tent will be up across from me soon, too. Right now it’s there but there’s nothing but a big mud puddle in front of it.

My RV is in the very back, so that’s nice even if the walk is a little longer. I only have one neighbor who can likely hear my TV instead of two.

The long-term volunteers aren't. I think I must have misunderstood that. It’s really a place long-term FOR volunteers, I now think it meant. People come, stay and do the actual rebuilding of homes for three days, a week or so and then leave and more come.

Everyone is nice, of course. I’ve already met a bunch but it’s hard to keep track of who’s coming and going. The managers (a married couple) will be leaving in a week; their replacements are due soon. The cooks, who are in the RV next to me, aren’t here long-term, either. They are from Nebraska.

It seems what happens is all the groups are their own crews and they go work on different houses during the day and return in the evenings. I noticed after the meal tonight (scalloped potatoes and ham, with peas and carrots and pineapple as side dishes; cookies for dessert – and they do have tea) more people started coming back from their sites and having different group meetings.

I’ll get more of a clue as the time goes on. I talked today with one of my new counterparts, who is the pastor (or one of them) of the church where my little trailerhood is located (Hope Village). We did a little rundown of what’s coming up, but it was pretty brief. It’s his silver anniversary as a pastor and he has family in this week so he’s got a lot going on.

Really, I have no idea what’s in store for me. And I’m OK with that.

My swear-in was a couple days ago and service is 12 months. I’m three days into it. Eleven months plus left. Machi muchkil.

Driving through the flyovers

Tomorrow I get to swear in again.

Yes, I’m checking in during training in Chicago, where tomorrow, for the second time, I get to take the exact same oath I did as a PCV. Coincidentally, it’s the same oath military take and I believe it might be the same one the State department employees take, too.

So I might as well memorize it.

The AmeriCorps training is pretty much the exact same as PC’s: icebreakers, flip charts and all. Needless to say, it’s as fun as it sounds.

The group is a bit different than I expected, though. I figured it’d be another like PC, diverse in its own way but mostly just-graduated students.

The reality is a bit different, in part because I forgot a couple of key factors. First ACVs are allowed to have dependents, so we have several parents. Some are single moms and some are married moms. (It’s possible there are dads, too, but I haven’t knowingly met any.) There are also halves of married couples, which is possible in PC but pretty rare.

But the biggest factor in the difference between the two service organizations is that ACVs don’t have to relocate to serve. As a result, the bulk of the people here are serving in either their hometowns or their college towns.

That is a huge difference from my previous flip chart-heavy training, because with PC, everyone’s relocating – far, far away. And everyone’s going the same place.

Almost everyone is staying in the Midwest. I think there’s one guy who’s headed to DC but the rest of us are in the flyovers.

Tomorrow, I set off again through those states. My plan is to overnight in Wisconsin and then head to Minnesota before moving on to North Dakota.

It’s likely that once again, the thought of being a long-haul driver will be crossing my mind. I sure have done a lot of it lately.

For the first two days of this excursion, I had Zippy to entertain me, but this leg, I am on my own.

I have some Louis L’Amour stories narrated by Willie Nelson, so I think that’s going to be my entertainment between radio stations.

I have to use CDs sparingly because even though I brought *all* my music on my MP3 player, I only brought 24 actual CDs. Considering I’m going to be gone for 12 months, that’s a lot of the same stuff.

Up and coming

Well, the next chapter for me is right around the corner, but I have at least eight hours of driving left before it begins.

I’ve made it safely to Nashville, where I’m holed up in the hotel room. As exhausted as I am from driving the first eight hours, I’m OK doing nothing but dining on Cheesecake Factory for dessert. (Key lime.)

Since FSU’s super regional was rained out, I’m watching Game 5 of the Stanley Cup finals. I guess I’m pulling for LA, just because I’d like to see the Cup handed out. I love watching them celebrate.

Tomorrow, it’s an in-hotel breakfast and then off for Chicago, with a tentative plan to stop in Indianapolis for lunch or something.

As it turns out, I don’t have to be in Chicago until Monday afternoon, not Sunday night as I previously thought. Not a big deal; will essentially have one evening in Chicago. No great plans for that.

Training starts Monday evening, I guess, and my guess is it’s a lot like PC’s. Lots of getting-to-know you and icebreaker stuff. Joy.

Then I’m on to Minot, where I’ve learned I’ll be staying in an RV, which sounds a little smaller than the trailer I previously thought I had. That’s OK; I can deal with it. Honestly, at this point in my life I figure I could do 12 months in a Turkish prison, not that I want to test that theory.

I’ll be in the RV until October or so, when I move into an apartment. The RV might not be big (I’ve no clue), but I just learned it has DirecTV and Wifi, which is awesome. I might be the most-set AmeriCorps volunteer around. At least other than my roommate.

This past week was pedal-to-the-floor. Errands galore, including some stupid things like having to run back to Target because I left my cellphone there the day before. But I got a ton done and even had time to go to FSU’s super regional game one last night. Which was awesome.  The Noles won, 17-1, against the nation’s best pitcher. Overrated.

My packing job is pretty sketchy. I already realized I forgot toothpaste, but I’ll be doing a Target/Walmart run pretty quick off anyway. I thought about doing it all in Florida, but since ND has a much lower sales tax I couldn’t figure out a single reason to do so now.

I think I have enough clothes. Honestly, if I don’t, it doesn’t matter. I brought everything that fits and looks reasonably OK. I just don’t have much right now.

It’s the other stuff I had no idea of what to pack. What complicates it for me is that I had way more room than either PC or Indonesia’s trips. I am not a person who needs too many options. I could never, ever build a house from scratch. I need limitations.

Once the clothes were done – and man, Laurie would be proud of my packing job; it all fit in the trunk – I had the whole back seat to fill if I so chose.

So I started, pretty much randomly, throwing stuff in. I mean, I had a little plastic thing of “electronic,” but I wound up tossing things like business cards and coasters in there. I also stuck in a few favorite cups (like the one I snagged from the Globe office) and a very motley mix of DVDs, way more than I took to Indonesia. I might have even brought the little DVD player. It crossed my mind, but I’m not sure my body went through with it.

The weirdest thing, by far, I packed were the MREs we found in Gray’s house. I’ve absolutely no idea what I was thinking on that, but you have to be ready for everything, right?

The last week

Back from Reno. It’s a depressing place.

Zippy’s Dreamcatchers, though, won their tournament. Undefeated, and they got really nice bat bags. What worked out well was the American Express gold card and the free checked bags – there was no way to pack that thing in a carry on.

So this is my one week between gigs. I spent my last Saturday in Florida doing yard work, which seems appropriate. I took down the hedges lining the driveway, the ones that scrape my car when I back out.

I’m sore. The battery powered chainsaw is a piece of crap and I also smashed my thumb in the fence.

But I did defeat the hedges.

I’m in the process of laying out my travel to training. Nashville is my ideal stopping point, and I’ve known that. I checked the Bluebird Café schedule, hoping someone I’ve heard of will be playing there, but struck out on that. (I think Vince Gill is there Tuesday or Wednesday and I’ll be there Saturday … bummer.)

The other day – and God knows why it took that long – it finally occurred to me to check the rest of Nashville to see if anything was going on involving anyone I’d want to see. (And by this I mean Scotty Emerick, mostly.)

Turns out, it’s the entire CMA fan fest thing. June 7-10, and I’ll be there the 9^th. Holy smokes. The night I get in, Faith Hill is playing, and the next morning, Phil Vassar (favorite songwriter No. 2) is somewhere. I’m not really familiar with the venues. Or how late I can leave and still make it to

So I’m sure it’s too late to get tickets or anything, but hopefully I can just wander around a bit. I can’t believe I didn’t think to check it earlier.

Based on this, it also occurred to me to get a hotel room now, and man I am glad I did. There were very few available. I wound up Hotwiring one for $90. When I got the name of it and went to their site directly, the same room was priced at $180. Yeah, those special events jack the prices up.

But it’s halfway between me and training, and no way do I want to drive more than eight hours in a day. So Nashville it is.

This week, I was affected by two deaths. What’s weird is I really knew neither person.

One was a sports writer I knew only through his handle on sportsjournalists.com.  In fact, when I logged on one day – from Reno – I saw a thread titled “RIP to one of our own, Chris Stanke,” and I had no idea who he was.

He was a deputy editor of CBSSports.com, and apparently a South Florida guy. He was also only 56 and had run a 5k that day. A post on the board from him the day before referenced the fact he’d stopped drinking, been exercising and was in the best health of his life.

He got up, ran the race, went home to sleep and never woke up.

I learned he was a frequent poster on the board – I knew his handle, just not his identity – and he was one of the most respected people on there. Sane, intelligent, respectful – something a lot of people aren’t. And only 56. And in great shape.

Someone posted a photo of him crossing the finish line of the race. He was checking his time.

You know that morning when he set out, he had no idea he was going to die. That’s what freaked me out. You never know.

Similarly, when I went into town earlier this week, I got hung up in an accident-related traffic jam. It was out 27 North, right across from that stand where you can buy Georgia peaches.

As I approached the accident, I noticed a crashed motorcycle. About 15 feet behind it, right on the side of the road, lay a corpse. A police officer was photo documenting it.

Other than in coffins at visitations, I’ve never seen a corpse, and I’m thankful for that. This guy’s face is frozen in my memory. He looked like Jack White – that washed out. Definitely corpse white. Not coffin-corpse like.

He was wearing a backpack. I’m not sure if he was the driver of the motorcycle or if he had been walking down the highway and got hit.

And I still don’t know. I’ve been checking the Democrat website since it happened, trying to find out more about this guy, and there’s been nothing.

Like Stanke, I know this guy didn’t toss on his backpack and head out upon his day knowing it was his last.

I didn’t know either of these people personally, but both their deaths hit me hard.

It’s a very sobering thought. It’s something you know, of course. Tomorrow’s never guaranteed.

But in both these guys’ cases, *today* wasn’t guaranteed, either. 

That’s my takeaway.