Day 5 of the 2010 Mission Trip
This is the final entry for our 2010 Mission Trip to St. Bernard Parish, Louisiana. It is all written by Mike Weinberger - the first section being a reflection that he wrote early in the week. He had shared it with the rest of the Team during a devotional time, and we wanted to include it here.
Mike wrote:
Our first two days in Louisiana have been Awesome! It’s been an eye opening mixture of hard work and lack of sleep (comfortable sleep that is!). What’s also eye opening was the incredible trials these people of Louisiana and especially the New Orleans area have been through. It’s mind blowing…
Driving around our area, you can see so many houses and businesses that are gone with just the slab of the building remaining. It’s heartbreaking to think of the thousands of people that were displaced or torn apart when up to 22′ of water covered their neighborhoods. Yet slowly, very slowly, these people are returning. I have to admit I had mixed feelings about helping to rebuild an area that will inevitably be devastated again but deep inside I now know their reason: these people are rooted here. Their families have lived here for many generations and this is home. This is their home and you don’t just leave, you rebuild and you live.
Deeply rooted here is an unshakable passion. It’s alive on the t-shirts and bumper stickers and signs celebrating an unthinkable New Orleans Saints super bowl victory. It’s also alive on their faces. Faces that show the toils of hard work and the trials of having been through tragedy. But through it all, one thing rings clear: they belong here. There’s no doubt about it. This is Saint Bernard’s Parish and these are their people. I’m honored to have been a part of the rebuilding and I truly feel changed for the experience.
“Finish Strong” is not only a catch phrase in these parts, it’s a way of life and I am blessed to have been called here.
Here’s a little recap of day 5:
The New Orleans Jazz Festival is everything New Orleans is. It’s rhythm and blues, it’s jazz, it’s gospel. It’s the smell of Cajun spices and crawfish. We arrived early and got right in line. It didn’t take long before we were through the gates and breathing it all in. The smell of food that is uniquely New Orleans. Meat pies, fried alligator with jalapenos and onions, jambalaya, gumbo.
It wasn’t long before the music was in full swing. It’s amazing to think that in just the one day we attended the festival, we had over 60 musical acts to choose from. Everyone from Little Freddie King and Kenny Neal to Dr John and The Black Crowes. After a week of working to rebuild a home, I felt God was truly paying us back by rebuilding our souls with such an amazing tribute to music, American cuisine and New Orleans. Even the torrential downpours that filled the day could not dampen our spirits. We were wet but very, very happy.
Even after a day as full as we had, we still had one more thing to experience: an authentic crawfish boil prepared by Pastor Treadaway and his family. Sitting in the parking lot on milk crates listening to the pastor talk about a proper crawfish boil was inspiring. It’s part of what makes this a special place; families coming together to enjoy the simple things, pride in an area full of resilience, a fishing industry that’s been passed down from generations and hospitality that never excludes or judges but welcomes with a smile and a bell jar of sweet tea.
As a New Englander and a chef, I’ve prepared and eaten my share of seafood. I must admit though, I’ve never prepared or eaten a crawfish boil. Also, I’m a bit of an aberration, I honestly don’t like seafood much. Maybe an occasional piece of haddock or swordfish or fried clams but if given a choice, I’ll take steak. But when in Louisiana, do as the locals do, so I bellied up to the newspaper covered table as the boil was dumped in front of me and watched closely as the pastor’s son showed me the proper way to attack a boiled crawfish. “Twist, pinch, pull; not too hard or you’ll screw it up, separate, eat the tail meat and then put the head in your mouth and squeeze until you feel the pop.” Seeing a mountainous pile of shells in front of him, I knew he was a pro.
I got pretty good at it too. Even though I was more than a little grossed out by the whole primal approach, I managed a pretty respectable stack and moved on to the sausage and corn. Full and content, day 5 came to a close.
The drive home was interesting…
We woke (relative term) at 4am. It was decided after a week of guy bonding that Keith, Sam, Jake, RJ and I would travel together. Had it not been for some pretty cool technology and interesting conversation (we’ll leave that part out…lol) , it would have been a very boring drive. Ipods, web capable phones, portable dvd players and an electric cooler made the first leg to Virginia a breeze. That’s when the interesting part kicked in… Right around noon the subject of driving through without staying over in Virginia began to arise. There had been a precedent for this set on a prior mission trip (coincidentily by the same teen…) that if we were to drive in short legs, we could be back in time for church on Sunday. Now I’m not so naive to think for a second that that was the true motivating factor but it did have valor, and arriving relatively fresh in Roanoke, VA we agreed to visit the local Crispy Cream donut shop, get a whole bunch of coffee and four dozen donuts and give it a go.
Surprisingly, the trip wasn’t too bad. We drove, we slept and then drove again. I think the most surreal part of the journey was sunrise in Connecticut. I was driving and everyone else was asleep. My coffee was cold and I’d listened to most of the hundred or so songs on Keith’s Ipod which was wired through the radio. I shut off the radio and in the silence of the morning I saw one of the most amazing sunrises I had ever witnessed. Sure, it may have been the adrenaline or the punchiness of 25 odd hours on the road but God was smiling and I was there to see it, to witness it and it got me through. It was more than enough to get me through.
By 8 am, we were sitting at a diner in Dover, NH eating pancakes and listening to people that sounded and looked kind of like us. By 8:50 am, we were at St. John’s and I was hugging my kids and Tina, and I was home. Far richer and wiser and closer to God.
This is where Mike’s writing ends. The other two cars arrived home safely as well. Patrick and Tibby, who awoke in Virginia at about 3 AM, pulled into our church parking lot around 2:30 PM. Then Cheri, Tim, Aaron and Logan completed the team’s arrival at about 4:30 PM. Everyone was safe and thankful for the whole experience. We look forward to sharing our story with you - whether individually or as a group - in the days ahead. Thank you for your love and support - and your interest in this ministry.