It's spring break time, and more than 600 college students sponsored by churches in the midwest have converged upon our area in a few weeks' time span to help with flood recovery projects. The group from Pennsylvania looks like they escaped from the Amish - most of them have bowl haircuts and beards without mustaches; they are probably Mennonites, which I think of as Amish-Lite.

My group this week came from Wisconsin, and they were here two days. I thought I just needed help with digging the flood sand from around the tree roots so they can breathe. The previous flood raised the level of the front yard by 3 feet, so volunteers back then dug down to the original grade and built rock walls inside to hold back the dirt. This flood filled in those wells, so I needed help digging them out, plus several more trees we need to keep were buried with new sand.

The guy in charge talked me into letting them work inside the red cabin to see if there was mold forming after the foot-deep flood waters receded, and remove the muddy nailed-down carpet in the shed next to that cabin. The tenant who installed it attached it with nails every two inches.



They tore out the dry wall 2 to 4 feet above the floor, looking for mold, and they found it. It was very hard to watch my old cabin torn apart, but fortunately, only a small area is affected because most of it is the rough log walls. I stayed right with them, to make sure they didn't get over-zealous and just destroy the place, not that they probably would have, but that's how it seemed to me.

The people in charge told me my reaction was very common among flood victims because it's hard for us to face the reality that the damage is permanent and must be dealt with before warmer weather encourages the mold to grow faster. We are overwhelmed by the size of the task ahead of us, and don't know where to start.

1937 Funny Papers nailed inside the walls for insulation.



Because there are so many willing volunteers, and it's important to have something for them to do when they get here, all the homeowners have to do is murmur something about how they could use some help with debris removal, or shoveling out a basement full of silt and the phone rings: "I've got 38 volunteers who can be there tomorrow." Sometimes we're not ready for them: the first time they said that, I had to turn them away because my road was being worked on.

Tonight there was a Wisconsin-themed dinner (brats and assorted cheeses) at the Lutheran Church (most of these kids were Lutherans) for the volunteers, organizers, and those who were helped. I met the guy who sends the volunteers, and he said he'll be in touch in a couple of weeks to see what they're going to do next. I told him I think I'm in good shape, and he said 'we still need to replace the drywall.' Goodness, that's a lot more than I expected.

People can say what they want about the evils of organized religion. I have yet to see a bunch of atheists from three and four states away roll up in a van armed with rakes, shovels and tools, and offer to help from the goodness of their hearts. Back home where all these hundreds of volunteers come from, the churches have obtained grant money for renting heavy equipment, raised funds to finance these trips, and provided vans to transport them. Locally, the church members house the volunteers and keep them fed, as well as find projects for them, and schedule the work.

Standing in one spot and watching all this going on, a person can't help but be amazed.

U of Texas, Dallas:





Wisconsin:



Nebraska (October 2013):