Walls do fall

Monday 10/10/05 East Biloxi

“Hey Alex, do you want to be part of the biggest one yet? Check this out!” Alex was a large playful college-aged volunteer from Connecticut who just happened to have a “Mohawk”, was as strong as an ox, and liked to help people tear things down.

I showed him the wall that had been so carefully prepared for removal. As any "gutter" worth his/her salt knows, one does not just pound on walls with reckless abandon. No, all that does is to break the wall into small pieces that will take forever to pick up and remove. Rookies learn quickly the art of prying with just the right amount of leverage and force, of patting the back of the wall with the flat of a crow bar, or better yet--for the brave (and sometimes foolish)-- ones own hand.

Tearing down this wall, like virtually everything down here, had been a group effort. One person had taken off the molding around the wall, another removed the disco-era paneling, and yet another volunteer has loosened the nails on all sides of the wall. All for this moment—it was a gutters dream: we were behind the wall! By tapping around nails just hard enough to loosen the drywall, one group push could push over a large portion of the wall.

But this one was even better--it was a double layer. The drywall that we had been working on was still connected to the paneling (and wall paper) on the other side. If done correctly, a concerted effort might bring down both walls at once.

Of course obstacles remained. There was a vanity that had to be removed. Oh and the water had not been turned off. But hey, no guts, no glory.

“Alex, give me a hand here, would you?” We tried; we pushed. The wall gave. Not much but some. Then the vanity stopped our progress. Amateurs would continue to push, continue to pound their heads against the wall in vain, or simply give up. But by now we were professionals: we eased off knowing that strong persistent efforts would eventually win out. We temporarily handed the job off to Ben and Nate. They disconnected the plumbing. And sure enough, once the water had been shut down and the vanity moved away, a victory happened: the living room and bathroom wall both came down in one full swoop.

But victories can be fleeting and the road to success is rarely without roadblocks. Our initial elation was quickly squashed by the sight of not one, but two bedrooms on the other side of the bathroom. Magnifying our new found despair was the fact that the rooms were both full of personal items and were dark, dank, and full of mold.

At about this time the family that had lived (and likely will live) in the house showed up. At first they stood timidly watching this team of weirdly dressed people tear apart their home. However, after some exploratory “hellos” and “how are yous” they said they wanted to help. We outfitted them with gloves, masks, protective eye glasses and welcomed them to the “team”.

If our roles had been reversed, I am not sure how I would handle it. But I sure hope I would perform as well as they did.

Working side by side with total strangers, the family picked up their belongings, their treasured keepsakes and family heirlooms and then unceremoniously dumped them in a garbage pile in front of their house. Without batting an eye.

This would have been more than many people could handle, but they went further. This family, who had survived in their attic for seven hours as the water shook the house, helped gut the structure itself. The work was not fun, but the family did not complain. They yanked shelves off of walls, they thumped on moldy drywall until it came crashing to the ground, and they hauled an endless train of trash barrels to the curb.

Oh, and something else happened. Something that may have been more important than any of this. It wasn’t apparent at first. But gradually, as they carved away at their house, they began to talk with us. They even laughed a few times as their mood improved; their mental state had begun to heal. The world was no longer stacked quite so high against them. They saw that they were not alone, that others, complete strangers, were willing to work with them and aid in the recovery process.

Just like tearing down drywall, tearing down mental walls requires a concerted effort. It does not happen instantly. This family suffered terribly at the hands of Katrina. Their home and lives will never be the same. But maybe, just maybe, both will be better off in the end.

I hope so.