Just Don’t Understand

Dear Diary,

Before I start to get ready for the day, which will include the training session with the Red Cross, I must write out some thoughts.  I’ve been to the local Red Cross last Friday and again yesterday, just helping out wherever help is needed.  Yesterday I answered the phone. One of the calls was from a lady in the Houston area from New Orleans seeking information about shelters in this area.  She struggled trying to identify herself, stating "I guess I’m one of the refugees".   Before she got the last word out, I was able to use the word evacuee for her.  Something so simple but I could hear the pleasure in her voice as she responded with "that sounds better".

I’m in the process of seeking full time employment.  My application is in with a local state technical college as an Admissions Advisor.  Another one is placed with the county for 2 different positions.  My part time position with the church affords me the flexibility with my schedule but there are a number of reasons why I am looking for another position.  Whatever comes about, I hope to continue volunteering with the Red Cross.

I would imagine that in any local office of the Red Cross there is a need for volunteers to do any number of tasks.  Even the offices fartherest away from the Gulf Coast have needs at this time.  Needs that can be met by an individual volunteering a few hours a week.  Some of the tasks that local offices here are facing seem so huge.  And decisions that are made by some effect so many.  Having a plan makes sense in the midst of chaos. Knowing the plan before chaos hits makes damn good sense. 

On the news early this morning, a report was given about evacuees from the Dome were going to be bused to a cruise ship about 60 miles away.  Within 30 minutes, that report changed, saying the move was delayed.  People who were relocated to the Dome haven’t had the time to locate other family members and don’t want (or need) to make another move to complicate the process.  That story was followed by one of a reunion.  A reunion of 7 children with their 5 mothers.  The children are in Houston, the mothers were in San Antonio (3 hrs. away). They all came from New Orleans.  How did they get separated?  Why were they separated?  Didn’t someone notice this?  Didn’t someone think that didn’t make sense?  Didn’t someone have a plan?  So many  questions and I …

…just don’t understand.

~Susie