Grand Forks People Respond to Volunteers

June 27, 1997: They smile quietly, talk quietly, looking for things, making lists-a few ask for specific things, wonder if we'll have mouse traps or insecticide or rubber gloves Monday. Most leave Zion United Methodist Church's parking lot just as quietly, thanking the volunteers for coming to help. "People have been just wonderful to us," they say.

But if a volunteer at the Upper Midwest Recovery supply trailer asks how's it's going or or suggests they must be pretty tired, their faces become more vulnerable. Then the stories come, and sometimes the tears.

Jan, the young wife who ran a day care center in her home, said, "I can't do my job if I don't have my house." Because there are few day care centers operating, she can't work for another center either. She told about her husband, an electrician who's worked desperately long hours ever since they were allowed back into Grand Forks three weeks after the April 18 evacuation.

All the toys and equipment from her day care operation, she said, they piled into the muddy trash heaps that filled the boulevards. They live in a FEMA trailer with two little ones, still unsure in late June whether they can return and rebuild their flood-damaged house. "I've spent lots of time with my own children and my folks this last month," she said, "so that's the good part of all this."

Marge stopped early at the supply center for more degreaser to scrub basement shelving. Oil from a neighbor's fuel tank had coated her basement to the first floor joists. "By golly, I'll get those shelves cleaned yet. Who can afford to buy new ones?" Marge canned and preserved food as sort of a hobby. When she described hundreds of jars filled with fruit and jellies sunk into the sludge of her basement, her voice choked.

In the afternoon Marge was back. She'd been cleaning four rental housing units which she and her husband purchased last year as retirement income. STOP disinfectant and a fresh broom was what she needed. "The mold is back and this stuff is wonderful!"

Bev's husband worked in rescue with the North Dakota National Guard. They lived miles from the river. When he called her from the dike to say the city was to be evacuated, she and her children had less than 45 minutes to pack. A postal worker, Bev found herself working in emergency headquarters to keep mail coming. Now, after six weeks, she finally had time to remember things left behind. In tears, she described in detail personalized Christmas ornaments that a teacher had made for each of her three children-now teenagers. All the Christmas keepsakes were destroyed by sewer backup which flooded her home's lower level.

A young Hispanic woman with a baby and a toddler stopped for diapers and detergent. When she saw the list of supplies posted on the trailer, she translated for her parents. "My father lost all his tools-anything would help," she said. While a volunteer looked for a hammer, saw and pliers, the daughter instructed her father "Say 'many thanks' in English!"

United Methodists from Wesley and Zion churches volunteered as a break from their own cleanup efforts. Paulette Swartz teaches business technology at Red River High School. She worked at restocking the trailer, filling supply lists for the morning shift before her afternoon classes at the University. The mold and smell had returned to her basement, she said. "It's just nice to get away from my house and the smells; I've never used so much Clorox in my life!"

Paulette's neighbor described fishing floating meat out of the slime of her flooded basement after two weeks evacuation. "We had two chest freezers full from the farm-you know! They tipped over in the water. After we cleared everything out, I just poured bleach full strength by the gallons down my basement stairs."

One young man had sent his family away to New Orleans to live with relatives. Their home will be demolished; he wondered whether he'll be able to earn enough to reestablish the family in Grand Forks again. "I think we can. We're Scandinavians here; we will endure this!"

Zion members Bette and Ed Olson work and teach at the University of North Dakota. They had worked beside their students on the dikes. When they were evacuated, they kept in touch with news on the city's web site..

Scholars and book collectors, the Olsons had thousands books ruined when waters flooded two of their four levels, finally collapsing one wall. They moved back into their kitchen and an upstairs bedroom. The power washer from the church saved them several hundred dollars, Bette said. The detail cleanup is hard now. "Each little thing brings back memories, each little thing... I've done Volunteers in Mission things but now to be on the receiving end... I've learned to accept help and it feels wonderful!"

Few families escaped the damaging water. Those who did may be experiencing what some call "dry house guilt." Others compare their losses to those families in devastated areas along the river. Joann Hurley, Zion's lay member to Dakotas Conference, feels lucky. "I only had 59 inches of water in my basement," she said. However, she felt grateful for helping hands. "I'm not used to being on the receiving end, but I'm growing!"

Donna Fisher, Editor
Dakotas Connection