Greetings From Sunny Biloxi, Mississippi

I'm alive, well, and working my tail off.

I'm living in a tent suburb - like a tent city, only safer and with better schools - in back of a church. I'm spending my days driving around in a pickup truck with guys I connected with through Katrina Direct Relief. We hand out things like bottled water, mops, buckets, chlorine bleach, and miscellaneous things that the guys came with. We talk to the people who we meet and find out what sort of needs they have clearing debris out of yards and homes. It takes about five minutes of driving to find enough volunteer work to keep us busy all day long.

Gulfport and the western part of Biloxi look almost normal, except for the occasional spraypainted plywood signs that read "Open for business!" or "Now Hiring!" Wal-Mart is open, as is Winn-Dixie, Taco Bell, and a host of other businesses. East Biloxi is entirely another matter. Parts of the city were completely flattened. Residents are living in tents, or under tarpaulins nailed to frameworks made of two-by-fours. A lot of people are shellshocked, with that characteristic thousand-yard stare. When the wind blows from the ruined part of town, you can smell that something-died-in-the-wall smell. The psychic atmosphere is raw and anguished.

My Internet access is spotty, but I may be able to post more than this later.