Hump Day Headlines...and More

Happy Hump Day 

I'm back. Did you miss me? Notice I was gone?

I had an interesting and rewarding time serving with our church's disaster recovery team in Union Beach, New Jersey, but I was blown away by the amount of devastation still waiting for recovery efforts a year and a half after superstorm Sandy. So many people are still without their homes or trying to live in partially repaired houses. Like many people, I'd thought the bulk of the damage had been repaired. The national media goes home and we assume the crisis is over. It isn't. Please give the people who were affected by Sandy your prayers and any support you can.

Now on to our hump day funnies.

Since I mentioned the media, how about some headlines?

Think about it a second.

Wow. They must have been desperate.

Um...duh.

But his head feels fine.

I guess that was a good day to be a nobody.

Here's a joke I heard the other day.

Man on phone to wife: "Honey, don't panic, but I got hit by a car at lunch. Paula brought me to the hospital. They've taken a bunch of X-rays and I've got three broken ribs and a compound fracture in my left leg. I've only got a minute to talk because they're taking me up for a CAT scan to check for bleeding inside my skull but I told them I had to call you."

Wife's response: "Who is Paula?"

This one just seems kinda timely:

Okay, time for your "aw". I defy anyone to look at this picture and not say it. 

Or at least feel it.

You know you did.

That's it for today. Are we there? Over the hump and on the downhill slide to the weekend? I hope so.

Did you have a favorite?

Have a great weekend and I'll see you here next Wednesday (if not at your place before then).

Question of the Day:

If corn oil is made from corn, and vegetable oil is made from vegetables, what is baby oil made from?

A Shelter Story

"Ma'am?  There a lady over at the table there, I think she needs help."

I wouldn't have noticed her.  We had close to two hundred residents in that shelter and when dinner was delivered, most of them passed through the serving line and into the dining area.

She was elderly. Late 70's, early 80's, I guessed. Her hair was white and carefully curled, and she was wearing an old fashioned broach on her green sweater.  She sat in front of a half eaten meal, quietly sobbing.

I sat next to her and asked if I could help. 

"I'm sorry.  I don't mean to make a fuss."

"Can you tell me what's wrong?"

"I don't like it here.  I want to go home."

Her name was Jackie and she was alone.  A widow with no children. She'd been evacuated to one shelter before Sandy hit, then transferred to this one. She wasn't quite sure where she was, the neighborhood was unfamiliar, and she didn't know anyone here.

At first I thought she was "confused" (a polite term for early dementia) but as we talked I realized she was simply overwhelmed. She did fine in her own well-ordered world.  She had a nice apartment and she took the bus to church or to go shopping.  But here, in this over-sized room full of cots and strangers, she didn't know what to do.

She gave me her home address and I asked one of the local volunteers where it was.  One of the areas hardest hit. I didn't have the heart to tell her.  She said there was a cousin who came by and helped her sometimes but she hadn't been able to reach him.

I did what I could.  I asked her if she'd talked to the FEMA people yet?  She didn't know she was supposed to.  All those announcements had made no sense to her.  A local social worker came through and I made her aware of Jackie, but the next day someone different came.  I made a point of talking with Jackie everyday, making sure she understood what agencies were there and what paperwork she needed to fill out to get help.

Our shelter was getting smaller.  We had a mixture of evacuees and those who were simply without power, and as the power was restored our population dwindled. Soon this shelter would be closed and merged into another.  Who would look out for Jackie?

Then she was gone.  I'd been out delivering hot meals in one of the neighborhoods that was still in darkness and when I came back, her cot was turned on its side, signalling she'd checked out. I asked another volunteer what had happened.

"Oh, she finally reached her cousin.  He came and picked her up."

 I wish I'd had a chance to say goodbye.


Quote of the Day: It is the greatest of all mistakes to do nothing because you can only do little - do what you can.  ~Sydney Smith