Greetings from Statin [sic] Island, Part One

Newspaper clippings on display in the narthex of
Messiah Lutheran Church.

No, that's not a typo in this story's title.

To understand its meaning, however, you'll have to read to the end of this six part series.

It's easy to become distracted by fading resolve or indifference when the call comes to assist during times of great crisis. When I contacted my pastor, Tom Omholt, within days of Hurricane Sandy's impact on the Eastern U.S. to see if our church planned to head to New York to assist with relief, neither of these distractions stood in the way. This seemed to be the right moment to just do something.

I didn't fully understand why, however, until I got to Staten Island four weeks later.

Yes, Tom said, we are seriously considering going up there to help with relief work. He reminded me that his wife, Barbara, and he were both born and raised on SI. It turns out that they grew up on the eastern and southern shores of the island, the ones most affected by the storm's fury. Therefore, there was no question as to why they were called to action.

When we learned from Tom just a couple of days from our departure date exactly where we would be working, my stomach sank. We're going to help out in the Midland Beach area, we were told. I already knew from following the news that this was the hardest hit area with the greatest number of casualties and property destruction. Would I be strong enough to handle what I saw there?

I could only offer up two days off from work for the effort, so my plans were to stay through Tuesday night. A couple of others in our group also left before the week's end, and the rest of the group left first thing Friday morning.

Our group headed north on Sunday, November 25, following the 11:00 service at St. Paul's Lutheran Church in Washington, DC. One more joined us from New York, our pastor's childhood friend, Donald Thoms.

What on Earth does this story have to do with 'design and domestic tranquility', or the nation's capital, for that matter (see my masthead)? Actually, it has everything to do with this statement. My ideas about home and the design of our environments was brought into sharper relief than ever following our experience at 141 Freeborn Street and in spending time with the family of Joe Davis. And our DC-based group, most of us with some kind of tie to New York (upstate and otherwise), made a tiny difference for one family just four hours north of us.

Early Sunday evening, we settled in to the Hampton Inn in Woodbridge, NJ, just on the other side of the Outerbridge Crossing to Staten Island. We arrived at a hotel filled with Allstate claims adjusters. Dressed in navy blue polo shirts with the Allstate logo, they packed the hotel lobby and conference rooms armed with their cell phones and laptops. They appeared to be dogged in their determination to assist their clients and were at work from early in the morning until late at night. (Oh, and they loved the fresh baked cookies in the lobby. Karen Sease, our vicar, became pretty good at determining the exact moment the cookies would appear so we could grab one before the polo shirt crew could empty the tray.) Barbara asked one of the agents when he had arrived. "November 9," he said. "How long will you stay?" she asked. "Probably until mid-January."

Two-and-a-half months at the Hampton Inn in Woodbridge. 

On Monday morning, we were immediately treated to Omholt family history  Our first stop:  Messiah Lutheran Church. This is where our pastor met his buddy Don Thoms (somewhere around second grade or so), played basketball and was confirmed. We even located their confirmation photo in the narthex. Pastor Omholt hasn't changed a bit. OK, he doesn't have that nifty pompadour any more.

Thomas Omholt, back row, third from left;
Donald Thoms, front row, second from right.

The first stop was to drop off supplies at Messiah Lutheran Church collected
by St. Paul's members. Left to right: Nancy Morrison, Diana Langel, Tom Omholt,
Karen Sease, Don Thoms, Roger Branstiter, Robert Hershey.

Next was a brief stop to drop off Nancy Morrison at FEMA Staten Island headquarters. Nancy's back condition wouldn't allow her to assist with mucking out houses, so her goal for the week was to help at a distribution center. Unfortunately, this location was no longer taking volunteers, so they referred Nancy to a location at a nearby church.

The FEMA headquarters location used to be an airfield.
Left to right: Barbara Omholt, Tommy Omholt, 

Roger Branstiter.

Once Nancy was situated, we continued on, passing by many more Omholt family landmarks:  the Reformed Church where Tom first attended services with his grandmother, Barbara's high school, the beach where they used to hang out, and lots of other places loaded with personal meaning. Sadly, the bar where Tom and Barbara famously met no longer exists. (Hi, so what do you do? I'm a Pastor. Hah! Is that so? Well, I'm a nun! Yup, we never tire of hearing that story.)

Then we continued on to the Davis residence on Freeborn Street.

Barbara Omholt standing on the deck of the Davis residence.

Initially, 141 Freeborn was condemned because of two minor cracks in the foundation 
(the red card). The Davis family appealed and authorities revised 
their assessment to allow the owners to rebuild (the yellow card).

View showing the ramp built for the Davis' oldest daughter,
who uses a wheelchair. This ramp was very handy for
removing dozens and dozens of wheelbarrows full of debris. Without it,
we would not have been nearly so efficient and it probably would have 
taken us twice as long to accomplish our task.

Two other groups had already come through before us to remove
furniture, personal effects and much of the sheetrock and plaster 
from the walls.

My friend, the trusty wheelbarrow, 
with Roger Branstiter standing in the background, left.

Homeowner Joe Davis, left, with Barbara Omholt and her son, Tommy, 

surveying conditions.

The kitchen, ready for additional demolition.

Barbara Omholt and Don Thoms, getting ready to put on gloves  
and masks to start work.

A bathroom.

It didn't take long for Barbara to start horsing 

around. She is a very bad influence on me.
Here, we take pictures of each other.

Pastor Tom Omholt and I stop working for a moment 

to have our picture taken.

Don works on the kitchen ceiling.

I lost those gloves at the end of the first day. Luckily, Barbara brought a 
box of blue industrial strength plastic gloves that I liked even better.

The Red Cross would come down the street each day to hand
out lunches to any and all workers.

The Dunkin' Donuts and coffee break (this was on Day Two). 
Our vicar, Karen Sease, and Barbara try to keep warm on that 
very cold day. It rained all day Tuesday.

Pulling up the floorboards revealed original asbestos tile. It will 

be good to get this stuff out of the house.

The other deck (which Joe did not build), which was destroyed 
by the floodwaters. Joe's deck, on the other hand, held up just 
very well. He is a fine craftsman.

Joe is a schoolbus driver. He came by on Monday to say hello
and explain what their goals are for their home, which assisted us 

with planning our work.

The sanitation department removing our first pile of debris. Later, 

they dropped off a dumpster for us.

The first load in the dumpster. We filled it up twice.

Incredibly, mail was being delivered to abandoned and condemned
houses, in addition to others here and there that are still occupied. Even more 

curiously, a meter reader came by earlier that day to read the electric
meter. I know he was just doing his job, but I couldn't help myself:
I gave that guy a piece of my mind.

The NYPD set up streetlights at many points. The 
neighborhood is entirely without electricity.

A neighbor's boat from five houses away landed in the 

Davis' backyard.

And a shopping cart landed right next to it.

Here, a bike is chained to Joe's sturdy deck.

But this story is just getting started. A most unexpected turn of events occurred during an afternoon break on that first day. For the most incredible part of this story, see Greetings from Statin [sic] Island, Part Two.

Greetings from Statin [sic] Island, Parts Three, Four, the Epilogue and the Post Script.

All photos copyright 2012 by Alexis H. Mueller.