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September 19, 2005
Day 4 - "It's like a war zone"
We headed out Monday morning to go to WRJW AM 1320. The church had told us that they would be willing to broadcast an announcement. The radio station was more than happy to help. While Steve penned the announcement, I talked with one of their DJ's. He told me how their quiet little town went from 15,000 to 33,000 inhabitants during the past two weeks. We asked them to run the radio spot until Thursday. The office at First Baptist agreed to take all calls from listeners and forward those on to us.
A former parent of a student from FUMA called us and gave us the number for a school official in nearby Slidell. We attempted to call him many times and finally got a hold of him after an hour and a half. Cell phones do work down here, but it is sporadic. On my cell phone, some calls have gone straight to voicemail and some have gotten through. The further south we travel the worse it gets. The gentleman agreed to meet us a little later that morning once we got a hold of him.
We jumped in our bus and headed to Slidell. The directions given to us were simple but we had a very difficult time finding his house. Street signs are missing in places or the pole in which they are attached are bent and hidden from view. The sign announcing his housing subdivision was completely covered with various other signs stapled to it. We finally found it and I was shocked by what we saw in his neighborhood. In front of almost every house were piles of trees and debris. Upon arrival, the man invited us into his living room and was excited about our offer. He told us how his school district was considering scrapping the football season for this year. His thought was that he might find some football players who might want to relocate. He took our contact information and said that he would tell the school board about what we were doing and call with any possibilities. We talked with him some about his experience after Katrina. His was the only house that survived among his extended relatives. They were now all coming to live with him now in his home. He had two cars, one was destroyed by the hurricane. My heart went out to him. This hurricane struck so suddenly and with much greater force than people here expected.
The next place on our list was Pass Road Baptist Church in Gulf Port. We saw the same scene of destruction there as in Slidell. The town was much bigger and we got lost once again. Thankfully, we found the church located in a strip mall. Baptist relief workers were busy milling about and one of them directed us toward the pastor's office. To get there we had to walk through the very nice, spacious sanctuary. It now had cots and suitcase strewn all about as a makeshift lodging to a plethora of volunteers. Every church we have gone to thus far was host to relief efforts. The volunteers have captivated my respect. They travel at their own expense a great distance, sleep in church pews or on the floor, work in 100 degree plus heat for hours on end and from what I have witnessed with very positive attitudes. Please keep them in your prayers as well.
After finding the pastor, he invited us into his office. We told him about what we were doing and thought he thought that what we were doing was a good thing. He took our card and told us that he would contact us if anything came up. As we were leaving, we asked a volunteer for directions to the interstate. He piped up telling us not to go in a certain direction, because there were still bodies down that way.
We next went to the town of Bay St.Louis to find a church there. The best way I can describe this town is like a war zone. 
I do not mean in the attitudes of the people, but in the sheer amount of destruction. Cars were thrown in to ditches, houses torn apart and buildings with sections of them broken off. The church we were looking for was located about three blocks from Lake Pontchartrain. The steeple of the church was lying on its side in front of the church parking lot. A nearby car was on its side thrown up against a building with a pile of debris. The pastor and assistant pastor with their wives were busily working on clean up. They openly received us and were excited about our offer. Of their congregation, they had seen maybe a quarter of them since the hurricane. They said they would be in contact if they found anyone we could help.
Before I got on the bus to come down here, I told General Jackson a story about a missionary that has deeply touched my life. His name was George Muller and he lived in Europe in the nineteenth century. He was a man that believed God. One time, the Lord had told him to build an orphanage. Everything fell into place and the orphanage was built and stocked. Excitement built for the opening day. The day came, but there were no orphans. Mr. Muller asked God about this and the Lord told him you forgot to ask Him for the orphans. At FUMA, we have a good school and people willing to financially cover the costs, now all we need are the students. Please pray that God would bring the students. So many people have lost everything and I mean everything materially they owned. However, we have not yet found the students. Thank you for your prayers.
Posted by thompsod at September 19, 2005 08:08 PM