i need to know that things are gonna look up*

i went to louisiana again this weekend for hurricane relief work. i cannot tell you how sincerely i want to stay down there and work (well, volunteer) for a month or so.

in case you missed previous posts about these experiences, i will tell you here that my church is working through another church in slidell, louisiana and has made a total of five trips to help. we have done everything from gutting homes to painting homes to rebuilding one completely. i expected that we would make one trip, come home with big dreams, but never make another trip. i was wrong, and i am glad about that. the money keeps dropping from the sky and skilled craftsmen keep volunteering, so we keep driving south. with each trip, we come home with more names and faces and stories to put on the anonymous devastation on television.

this time, it was miss jane. this 79 year old new orleans native widow lived in this house for 52 years and has lived there alone now for about half of those years. her home in new orleans east sat under six foot flood waters for several weeks. when six of our volunteers arrived to empty her home, she met us there with several cardboard boxes hoping to fill them with salvaged belongings. we put on our face masks and double layers of gloves, pried the door off, and began dragging to the street everything she owned. she left with less than half of one box filled.

when we arrived again the next morning, we were met by a crew of folks under contract to haul away the debris from yards. i visited with the crew inspector who told me she had been a teacher before the hurricane. when school reopened with so few students, teachers with the most seniority were offered jobs, but with only six years experience, she was not. she said she didn't mind too much though, because she is making twice the money now. she is working twelve hour days in health-hazard conditions, but it pays. she told me how her crew members change each week because some superivsors were getting soft on the crew once they got comfortable and were allowing rules to be broken during their pickups. the crew supervisor was sitting in a car around the corner watching. it is a shame we can't expect people to behave well even when the situation is so important. i noticed they weren't picking up our giant black trash bags of debris, but only the loose items, furniture, walls, and flooring. and that is because another crew picks up the bags and inspects them to make sure there are no body parts inside. this lady kindly offered us white zippered head-to-toe suits with hoods for us to use that day since we were knocking out ceilings and fiberglass insulation. i never thought i would be happy to wear one of those things, but i was that day. i don't know what people are thinking who are working down there without even a face mask.

miss jane's house now sits in a row of four gutted houses on her street. there is no electricity in the area and no word on when there might be again. not a home in sight was liveable and not a business was operational. (which also meant no bathrooms all day. we sent a scout to the port-a-potty nearby and based on the report, decided we could all hold it all day long. there are port-a-potties all over the place. gross.) it looks like the hurricane happened yesterday. it has been seven months.

miss jane now rents an $800/mo apartment somewhere else in new orleans on her $1,000/mo social security check. her insurance company gave her $2,000 for her house. FEMA gave her $26,000 to spend on anything. she knows she still needs help but she doesn't know where it will come from. she cried when we prayed and she cried when she thanked us. while we were there, her neighbor showed up with his son whom she hadn't seen in quite some time. they hugged and she cried some more. she didn't really talk about the "stuff" she lost, but she talked about the neighborhood scattering and her hometown fading and the heartache of the people who lived there.

i am convinced now more than ever that i want to continue to be involved in this work. i keep thinking that after each trip, i will finally feel like my "obligation" to help will be satisfied and that i won't make another trip. but i can't shake the feeling that i need to stay involved. i've always been more interested in doing than talking about doing. in college, that was easy because i co-chaired a student team that held service projects galore. but i've been looking for ways to actively serve here in the real world and, for me, this is it.

plenty of people explain to me how i could get hurt or get sick or get mugged on these trips as if i don't know those are all possibilities. and well, i hope none of that happens. yes, we are driving eight hours down there, working long days, using power tools, and hanging from ceilings. yes, we are handling moldy walls and fiberglass insulation and breathing it in. yes, there are criminals down there (like everywhere) and people are desperate and stressed. but if everyone is paralyzed by those possibilities, then those communities can forget recovery. i hope someone would come to my rescue if i lived on the gulf coast.

my friend (who heads up these trips from church) and i have talked about some big dreams for our next step. there are a thousand what-ifs, but even if only part of what we dream works out, it will make a difference for someone. we feel like we have to ask. stranger things have happened.

miss jane told us she didn't think there were people like us left in the world. and i don't tell you that so you can pat me on the back. i tell you so that maybe you can understand the power of a helping hand in the midst of this trauma. it was hard to adjust to being back to my normal routine today. i know life has to go on here. i love my job and it is important, too. but i found it hard to focus today when i could still see the faces of those who have woken up every morning for the past seven months to see the work still ahead and the help fading.

* 'calling all angels' by train

I'd be speechless, except that I have to tell you these stories.

My mom's special-order window blinds were supposed to arrive at Home Depot last week, but she was never notified, so she called to check on the delivery.

Mom: "Can you tell me if my order arrived last week?"
Without asking her name or any other tracking information, the Home Depot employee replies, "We didn't get any deliveries last week."
Mom: "Reeeally? Your entire store had zero deliveries last week?"
Employee: "Nope…"
Mom waits her out in silence.
Employee: "Well, okay, what's your phone number? … Okay yeah, it's here."
Mom: "So, don't you usually call customers to let them know when their order has arrived?"
Employee: "Yeah, but we were so busy with all our deliveries last week that we didn't have time to call anybody."

How many other customers believed the girl who said they received no deliveries and are still waiting for their order to arrive, which actually arrived last week?

Then Mom went to Kroger. As she stands at the dairy case, an employee comes by and turns out all the lights in the dairy cases. The store doesn't close for another three hours, mind you. The lights are also out at the meat cases. This is the second time this has happened to her at this store, and she got the same explanation: "Corporate Kroger says we have to reduce our electricity bill by turning out lights."

The first time it happened, she was standing at the meat case and couldn't find the cut she wanted. An employee told her, "We can't keep that cut anymore because it keeps getting stolen back here."

Perhaps that's because the LIGHTS ARE OUT in the back of the store.

Did it even cross their minds that Corporate meant to turn out lights AFTER closing time?

a little field trip

This is All Saints Chapel at Sewanee, "The University of the South." It is about two hours east-ish of Nashville hidden away in the hills and trees. There is quite a bit of interesting (boring) history about the place, which I am sure you could find on the university's website if you wish. Mainly, I thought it was a beautiful campus and I'm glad I took along my camera. "The University of the South" sure sounds like it would have more than 1,000 students though. I guess a university can make up whatever tagline it pleases.

That day, I had much more profound things to say about the inspiration of the history and architecture and stained glass windows, but I waited so long to write about it that now, not so profound. So nevermind about that.

The entirety of the town of Sewanee (other than the college) sits on one city block and consists of a post office, a bank (mine, coincidentally), an electric company (with one truck), a beauty shop, a gift shop, a gas station, and if I remember correctly, a car wash. No corner market, so maybe there is one more street somewhere. Or maybe everyone grows their own food and raises their own milk cows. I don't know. But it was small.

It sure was peaceful. Slower and quieter and greener and cleaner and peaceful.

Ivan the Great

After careful consideration of Scott's suggestion to call Verizon employees "poopheads" and Renae's offer to have them all fired, I decided instead to visit the Verizon store one more time.

I opted for the store in the ritzy part of town, as opposed to the one in my neighborhood, hoping for better attitudes.

Him: "Hey, sorry you had to wait so long. How can I help you tonight?"
Me: "No problem. Hey, where's your nametag? I'm gonna need to know who to brag on when you fix this issue with my phone."
He laughs and puts his nametag on.
Me: "Okay Ivan, here's the thing..."

I explain the issues.
He actually looks me in the eye and listens to everything I say. He asks me lots of diagnostic questions.

Him: "Yeah, that shouldn't be happening. Well, I'm sure you know this is out of warranty, so here's what we can do..."
After each option, he agreed with me that they weren't exactly good options.
Me: "And Ivan, you can see there that I brought this problem to Verizon's attention back when it was under warranty. Now I'm sure if I had brought the phone to YOU, then you would have correctly diagnosed the problem, and I wouldn't be here now. Surely there is something you can do, now that I've come to the right place."
Him: "Welllll.... hold on, Laura."

He disappears to a back room.
He reappears with a box containing a phone exactly like mine.

Him: "Okay, since I happen to have your exact phone, we can probably work something out."
Me: "You're on the right track, Ivan."

He zooms through the computer system, clicking and typing, overriding the warranty issue to make this transaction. The store manager walks up and mills about behind the counter. So I take this opportunity to say to Ivan, "You know, this store has got the Rivergate location beat on customer service. You are faster and more respectful to the customers." Store manager's ears perk up, and another guy tells me he had recently asked to be transferred here from that location.

Him: "Your total is going to be about $70 for this switch."
Me: "Really? *sigh* I appreciate how helpful you have been, but that is a little more than I was hoping to pay to get this issue solved. Is there any arrangement that would cost less?"
Him: "Well... not really. I know $70 is a lot though."
Me: "Well, as you can see, I am a good customer. I pay my bills on time. I even signed up for online billing, so you guys don't even have to mail me a statement. See? I'm saving YOU money! How 'bout a good customer discount?"

He laughs, and disappears to the magic back room again.
And back.

Him: "How about $52?"
Me, whispering: "Any pesky two-year contracts?"
Him, whispering: "Well... no, guess not."
Me: "Deal."

And I got a 90-day warranty.

I hereby reaffirm my lifelong theory: It never hurts to ask. Or to ask someone else when the first person says no.

Sprint, T-Mobile, Verizon. I'm running out of options here, people.

I visited my local Verizon Wireless store back in September because my cell phone began rapidly losing battery life during short conversations on a full charge. There was also something funny going on with calls and voicemails. The rep was too busy to actually listen to me explain the symptoms and hurriedly switched out my old battery for a new one and sent me on my way, no charge.

Now, just six months later, my phone is dying again. The same problem with a new battery says to me, the problem isn't the battery. So this week, I visited the Verizon store again. The rep informed me that, OF COURSE, my warranty expired in December, so a free battery swap is not an option.

Fine by me, because it isn't the battery. But I am eight months away from my $100 credit towards a new phone. And if I upgrade now, I pay full price, sign another two year contract, and promise my firstborn child. So that rep did the system update on my phone, and told me to come back if that didn't fix it. It didn't fix it.

I went back last night. The first thing this rep said to me was, "Your warranty expired in December. This is March, you know. It's MARCH. Not December. It's six months later, here in March." At that point, other customers tuned in to our conversation, anticipating a scene. I argued my point that I brought this problem to Verizon's attention while my phone WAS under warranty, their misdiagnosis is the reason it wasn't taken care of THEN, and I should have the same options that I would have if the warranty was still in effect. She and her attitude didn't budge.

I left and called the national line for customer service. The very nice rep listened to me and even offered to ask his supervisor what they could do for me. Nice, but again, paralyzed by the written prompts regarding my warranty being up. Now I KNOW they can do ANYTHING to any account they want. People get bill credits, tech upgrades, etc all the time when they call with issues. You can't convince me there is no flexibility with the written rules. I am not asking for a $300 new phone. Just something comparable to what I have. Is that so unreasonable?

I drove to another Verizon store to plead my case. Even though it was three hours before closing time, all of the employees with access to the necessary system were gone for the day. It was peak time for customers to drop by after work, but the store was staffed by people who couldn't do anything for ya.

Today I have emailed my case to Verizon. Assuming someone in Verizon cyberspace actually reads those emails, I should have a response in a week or so. They have no idea how stubborn I am about things like this. Stand by.

We interrupt this program...

Last night at the YMCA, I was happily working out and watching national news on one of the three televisions in front of my machine. The other two tvs were showing a basketball game (same on both sets). In the middle of a story, some guy reaches up to the tv with the news and changes the channel. Not to another national news channel he prefers more than the current choice, but to the public access channel for A DOCUMENTARY ON AN ARCTIC SAILING EXPEDITION IN 1848. Every single other person in that section of the workout room was watching the news. Change one of the TWO tvs on the same channel, for crying out loud. It wasn't even the tv closest to his machine. The guy didn't even stay until the program was over, so it's not like he came specifically to work out at 7:00pm and watch a program, like many people do. Reading the closed captioning about how these sailors cannibalized each other after two years of being stranded in the ice wasn't exaaactly what I wanted to do for 45 minutes. And I couldn't abandon my machine to change a channel because of the vultures waiting to use it!