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Prescott College Community Members Report from the Area
Joan Clingan and Frank Cardamone, Week 1

 

On September 10 Joan Clingan and Frank Cardamone left for Texas and Louisiana to join the Food Not Bombs efforts in Baton Rouge and help where they can. They are driving a donated van carrying more donations, all to be left with those who have lost their homes.

 

September 16, 2005, 10:00 p.m.—We have finally connected with Randall and the AZ FNB crew, who are working around and in NO providing meals to those who didn’t leave or who have returned to rebuild (Randall’s email is posted on the page set up for their updates). We had only been able to leave messages for each other due to problems with phone and cell service in the area. There is easy access to the internet here in Baton Rouge (at CC’s Coffee or the LSU library), but none for folks who are in Covington and New Orleans. (Other than being very crowded, Baton Rouge is pretty close to business as usual. Of course, those folks running shelters here certainly wouldn’t say that.) The FNB folks have been staying with the Veterans for Peace group. If you go to the Veterans for Peace web page you will see that there is a lot of help needed in their work. We will be loading up with supplies and joining them in Covington tomorrow.

 

Today was our third and perhaps final day volunteering at this shelter in Baton Rouge. It is heartening to see the numbers of people get smaller every day as folks find places to go to. Some find jobs and homes; others move on to be with families. On the other hand it is disheartening to see so many who remain here, after almost three weeks, with no place to go. Marcus’s dad got called back to his job painting in Algiers, but with no place to stay he will be going back and forth from north Baton Rouge to Algiers, while his family remains in the shelter until they find a home. A family of more than 20 that has been here for more than two weeks shared their joy at having found a place and work in Atlanta. They were very excited as they packed up their things in cardboard boxes and got ready for the journey they would take the next day. The large numbers of older folks and single moms with young kids seem to be the ones with the least options right now.

 

We are hearing a lot of talk about being allowed to return to the city and work that has begun to rebuild. There is a lot of excitement about going home and a strong commitment to ensuring that NO remains the unique city that it is. Always considering the race and class issues, we notice that it is primarily white folks, both working class and those with more economic privilege, who are saying that. The black families we have met so far just want a home and many are talking about leaving the area. Those who want to stay talk about family, but we have not heard anyone mention the culture of NO as something that keeps them here. It is hard to imagine NO without its 67% black population, yet it is hard to think of them going back to a culture that has kept most of them oppressed and marginalized so they can provide invisible service to tourists and be treated as a threat by their white neighbors and officials.

 

Each of our visits back to the shelter has been with a van load of those things we learn they need. Thanks to your generous donations we have provided big bags of men’s underwear, socks, and t-shirts; shoes for kids; toys and games; small personal coolers; shampoo and other toiletries; and cough drops, tissues, and ear plugs. Each time we handed out those things they need, we created longer lists of what was still needed. Please, if you want to help those folks who remain in the shelters, one way to do that is to send money to small church shelters or boxes of nice, new personal items (the need for underclothing, bedding, and towels is high).

 

For those of you who were interested in our SUNO connection, Jean and Christiane have been offered a place to stay in Baton Rouge with folks from LSU! Thanks to Kenny Cook for his connection with Bret Lott; and thanks to Bret for connecting us with Michelle Massé; and thanks to Michelle for your phone calls and work; and thanks to all of the faculty and staff at LSU who are making room in their homes for those displaced faculty and staff from the NO universities. It is looking like NO schools may be opening in the spring and keeping their staff here in the area is wonderful. So much gratitude to all of those who helped get our colleagues and so many others housed here in Baton Rouge! (And thanks to the lovely folks of “college town” in BR, where we parked and slept under your giant oak trees this week!)

 

We are sad to leave folks without knowing that everyone has a way to a home and we hope that those organizations that are working to guarantee that funds for relocating are fairly distributed are successful in their work. We are leaving behind a new generation of New Orleanian jugglers! We’ll make sure we get more juggling balls before we get to our next destination.

 

Peace,

Joan and Frank

 

September 15, 2005, 10:00 p.m.—Spent some time today making calls about work and a place for Jean and Christiane to stay in Baton Rouge. That’s looking like they’re getting closer. Found some information on SUNO and sent it on to them—schools in NO really want to know that their faculty and students will come back in the spring. Spent some time handling our own stuff—finally found a grocery store and a KOA for showers. Then back to the shelter with two large bags of flip-flops. It was good to see folks again. Someone had sent in cases of JanSport backpacks filled with school supplies. Every school aged person there received one. The juggling students are now good novice jugglers after a day of practice! We have not yet been able to connect with the Food Not Bombs crew and haven’t received an update from them in a few days. We’re trusting that they’re doing fine but if anyone hears anything do let us know. Frank and Joan

 

September 14, 2005, 11:00 p.m.—An immensely different shelter experience today in Baton Rouge, Louisiana than yesterday in San Antonio, Texas. The small church-run shelter where we volunteered today was a world away from what we experienced visiting colleagues in San Antonio. There are very little services here—honestly, just mattresses on the floor and three meals a day. The mattresses were appallingly used and filthy, and the bedding, though clean, was old and worn and lacking—when we walked in with blankets a number of folks jumped up to ask for them. The food was unhealthy and unappetizing—we observed meals of hamburgers with gravy for lunch and ham sandwiches on white bread for dinner. There were no computer banks where people could manage their FEMA applications. No phones they could use to try and find family members. There was a table that had supplies people could come and ask for, but it was very minimal and much of it used. There was no clothing or shoes at all except for boxes of very limited choices of underwear for men, women, and kids. There were no school supplies even though the many children began school that week. There were some boxes of used toys and there were lots of toiletry items and crayons and coloring books—but that’s about it. Quite the opposite from the new cots, bedding, clothes, and shoes given to evacuees in San Antonio; the loading dock in San Antonio that looked like a Super Market with everything one could imagine needing; and the ready access to computers, phones, and transportation in to town.

 

The saddest difference for us was seeing the ways that the families and individuals were being treated in each place. In San Antonio we heard that volunteers were inviting people home for dinner or for a night away from the shelter. The sense of respect being shown to everyone there was palpable and the sense of pride that the evacuees felt, even in their time of having nothing, was clear and strong. We heard from friends in Austin that they’d read how some of the black folks who have been evacuated to Texas are saying that they’ve never seen so many white people in their lives, and specifically white people who are smiling, looking them in the eye, and speaking to them—trusting and respecting them as people rather than fearing them as criminals. In Baton Rouge it is clear to us that the black evacuees are still black people in the south, being treated by white people in the south exactly as they always have been. After we had talked for a while with one black woman, holding her hand as she cried and told us of her sense of loss, the fear she has of her teenage son’s anger, her feelings about not knowing what to do next, and her sense of awe at the compassion being shown by people across the country, we were warned by a white church member to “watch out for her.”

 

Another black woman talked for quite a while about the situations she had experienced in the shelter and her anger at getting no help to figure out how to get her family together again. She shared how there was really no way for her to get away from there. That those with cars wanted money for gas to take those without to the library or the store, yet many folks there still have no money. She shared that she had no way to follow up on her FEMA application, and that she, like many here, is not good enough on the computer to do it without help. She said that when she left the shelter with her kids to go to a family funeral in Mississippi she was told she couldn’t come back. When she came back alone to get her belongings, she was able to get in and so she stayed, but now her family is split up. At one point she walked away for a moment without explanation. She came back a minute later and said, nodding toward the pastors of the church (also black) who were overseeing moving families from one room to another (people in these shelter systems seem to be moved continually), “I guess you noticed they don’t really want you talking with us.” It’s hard to know for sure, but it seemed to us as though here in Baton Rouge, where working-class black people have always been seen as untrustworthy by everyone, that these folks are still struggling with that.

 

The people here in this shelter don’t seem to have the support it will take to get on their feet and get out of here. After being asked by two school aged kids for spiral notebooks, we went across the street to a grocery store and bought a few boxes of spiral notebooks and folders. But it seems like the basic things they need to get by in this make-shift place—two women asked if there were any magazines—are the most out of reach. Choices in underwear and socks for men, women, and children. Clothes! They got some used clothes when they arrived, but nothing really since that was distributed.  T-shirts! Someone brought in a stack of YMCA t-shirts and they were gone in ten minutes. And men’s white t-shirts and undershirts for the young men. Shoes—most of them now have one pair of shoes. Cold medicine and support from general healthcare practitioners. Magazines and crossword puzzles. And visitors. They like talking with people who might have ideas or who can offer support. If you want to send these things, just do some searching on the internet and find out which churches are providing shelter, and send new things to them to be distributed. Email us if you want to send something to this specific shelter.

 

I (Joan) asked some women what they would say they need right now—if someone could just help them get what they need today, what is that, and they both said money. “A check in my hand made out to me.” I asked how the people of this country who want so much to help could best help. I told them what I had observed of folks’ desire and willingness to give (I read today that the people of the US have given in numbers that double what they gave in the first two weeks following September 11, 2001 and that the question is whether we will sustain that). She said tell them to come here and meet us and help us—there are big families here who need help.

 

We don’t know how to get this need matched up with the desire to help that we know is there. I suggested to one woman that perhaps those wanting to give could adopt a family—she said “Thank you!” She talked of a time when a church family adopted her family and knew all six of her kids’ clothes sizes and gave gifts that were specifically needed. We don’t know how to make that happen. If you, our family and friends who are reading this, want to help a family, we could certainly give you someone’s name and contact info and give them yours. Would you want that?

 

Someone with the ability to reach far more people than we can here needs to create a database or clearing house to connect those who want to give with those in need. Can you help?

 

The other thing they need is a place to go. At the end of our day we drove a man to the bus station—his name was Mike, a shrimp fisher from St. Bernard Parish who swam to his mother’s and his sister’s to get them out, all the while his pacemaker was defibrillating him, making him think he was being electrocuted in the water—he had received cash money at the shelter to buy a bus ticket to Tennessee. Our friends in San Antonio said we don’t need to come back and get them, since as soon as they can prove they have a place to go they will be given bus to anywhere. We need to find a way to have those in our communities who have houses let those here in these shelters know that they can come. If the Prescott community gave us the word, we could find families ready to move there and start over. And we want to encourage people out there to make room for communities and extended families to relocate together.

 

What FEMA will do for these families over a period of time is great—but right now, today, they need to know that they have a place to go and some financial support to assist in that process.

 

It was a blessed day ministering through our listening and our helping hands. We helped move whole families from shelter 1 to shelter 2, alongside evacuees who have themselves become the volunteers who support this shelter. At a birthday party in the cafeteria for a girl who turned 13, Frankie taught a group of kids how to juggle. We left Marcus with a bicycle and hugs goodbye. It is a blessing to be here. We have heard that there have been many people volunteering from around the country, Canada, and Mexico. Perhaps now that our neighbors who had been marginalized have been pushed to the center of our attention, we can keep them there and find ways to make the legendary opportunities of this country readily available to them. We must sustain our compassion and our support.

 

Blessings,

Joan and Frank

 

September 13, 2005, 5:00 p.m.—On the 10 again heading toward Baton Rouge. Last night we went in to San Antonio to spend some time with Jean and Christiane. They’ve been advised not to leave the shelter while their FEMA application is in process, but are hoping that soon they will have some clear direction and all of the paperwork in order so they can leave.

 

Their experience in San Antonio has been very positive. They said that the people are all wonderful, the volunteers very gracious—offering support far above the call of duty—and the place clean, well taken care of, and very well run. We were very happy to see so many people settling in and feeling safe again, though certainly ready to be in a home of their own again. The energy in the place was really lovely—very light filled and peaceful. The large room was filled with cots, but as we walked around we were surprised to see how the spaces have been personalized by individuals and families. Families with kids were beginning to collect some basic needed paraphernalia—car seats, cribs, highchairs, and such. Others still had only the blue plastic tub they’d been given, with some personal belongings and clothes.

 

Outside of the shelter buses came and went with folks who wanted to go into town. Teenage people and older lined up all along the grounds, hanging out and talking. Kids ran everywhere. Most of the 62 primary school aged kids had gone to school in San Antonio that Monday. It felt like a community and seemed to us to be quite different than what we have been hearing that people have been experiencing for the past two weeks.

 

Jean and Christiane shared that when they first got to this shelter, after several days stranded in NO, there was no one here. They had only the cot and no blankets yet. But people continued to come until the shelter was full, and now they are seeing it thin out again as folks get their FEMA work completed, find jobs or homes, or are picked up by family members.

 

We learned that the Mexican army is cooking for the evacuees in San Antonio. This is the first time the Mexican army has been on this land since Mexico lost Texas to the US. We heard that these soldiers/cooks said that most New Orleanians haven’t tasted Mexican food, but that jalapeño isn’t that far from cayenne.

 

Jean and Christiane shared their story about getting stuck in NO. They had left in their car when the announcement was made to evacuate, prior to the hurricane hitting land. Like everyone they sat in bumper-to-bumper traffic trying to get out of the city. The radio would report other highways routes to take that were moving better, and they would go in one direction only to be redirected to another route. At some point they were still not far from the path of the hurricane, when the wind stopped and things got very calm. At that point they felt that they’d be safest in their home, rather than in the car, so they went home. The hurricane passed and they thought they’d made the right decision as everything seemed fine. Until the levees started to break.

 

They said that they quickly found themselves in chest high water and began to look for help with neighbors who lived in a two story house. They swam around the neighbor’s house until they found them and then stayed on the roof with them for a couple of days. They waited there while helicopters flew over but did not stop for them. Christiane shared about a father on a roof near them with his infant child, waiving white flags at helicopters, only to be passed over again and again. They finally gave up and swam to another friend’s home who had a boat and from there they were able to get to dry land. They stayed there on the streets for a couple of days with a group of neighbors, but as we all learned from our very safe and detached perspectives, the lack of safety they experienced was very difficult. They were eventually picked up by officials who took them to another dry spot on the streets and dropped them off, and they waited there for more days. Finally they were taken to a shelter in the NO area and moved to a couple of different places including the airport before finally being taken to San Antonio, where for the first time they got clean new clothes, shoes, and meals. (It’s not exactly clear to us how long they remained in each place, but it seemed like they were saying a couple of days in each place.)

 

At this point they simply want to get their paperwork in order and start to get their lives back. They are hoping to find a place near New Orleans where they can work until UNO and SUNO reopen, and of course would be willing to go anywhere to have a home and work until they can return home. If you have any offers please do let us know and we will get their contact info to you. (Google either of them for info on their work.)

 

We’ll be in Baton Rouge in a few hours and hope to hook up with our Food Not Bombs friends tonight. We’ll be making ourselves useful at the church shelters in Baton Rouge until we can connect with them.

 

Peace,

Frank and Joan

 

September 12, 2005, 4:00 p.m.—We’re very happy to say that we’ve connected with our colleagues from SUNO. Lenus Jack, who laughingly says he's been in New Orleans a long time and  was there for Hurricane Betsy in 1965, left ahead of the storm and is safe with his family in Atlanta. He had not yet been able to connect with Jean, and we were able to give him Jean’s number, and vice versa.

 

Jean Belkhir and Christiane Charlemaine were not able to get out of the city on time and were stranded in New Orleans. Their home and vehicles were flooded and they are presuming that they’ve lost everything. Here is an email from him:

Dear RGC supporters

Christiane and I want to thank all of you for your support. We have been able to escape New Orleans after several days in the water and on the roof and street. We are safe and now it's time to find out how to get back on our feet and to continue our work on RGC and get some teaching money.

If any of you do have a teaching proposal / office / computer where we can move until we are able to go back to New Orleans: that will be marvelous.  I am unable to get any message on my regular email addresses. Please use Christiane 's email address [...] to contact us.

So far everything is ok for us, but we are just surviving like many of us who did run away from the Hurricane.  San Antonio has been good with us and we hope things will get better "soon!"

We don't know how to say thanks to all of you: lewt say it in French, you know Christiane and I are "French!!!"

Jean

We are on our way to see Jean and Christiane at the shelter in San Antonio now. We are trying to assist them in finding a place to stay in Baton Rouge or somewhere close to New Orleans, and then we will take them there. Lenus, Jean, and Christiane all worked for SUNO; although they’ve been told they will be paid, they have no idea for how long, or how long it will be until SUNO and the other schools in New Orleans can reopen. If you can offer a place or work for any of them, please let them know. You can contact us for Jean and Christiane's email address or Lenus's phone number.

 

Also, one of the other RGC supporters, Cecelia Baldwin, from San Jose State University, is raising money to assist them in getting out of the shelter. If you want to donate specifically to Jean and Christiane, please contact us for Cecelia's contact info.

 

Peace,

Joan and Frank

 

PS: Kudos to David at Hill Country Tire and Auto in Wimberley, TX, who replaced the van's two front tires on the spot and at his cost.

 

September 11, 2005, 5:00 p.m.—We slept at a rest stop at Texas Canyon, east of Tucson, last night. Woke to find ourselves in a beautiful area similar to Granite Dells in Prescott. Driving through the vast open Sonoran desert, past Red Tail hawks perched on yucca blooms looking for breakfast, a lighted warning sign over the highway said “Amber Alert, See Local Media.” We turned on the radio (grace—the story is the van doesn’t have a working radio) and listened to NPR for a while. Stories about memorial services taking place in Manhattan, with moments of silence at each of the four minutes that the planes hit and the buildings collapsed. No news of an amber alert—but the Arizona desert wildlife is ready should anything happen.

 

Always interesting to drive through El Paso and see Mexico across the river. Last night during a last minute office stop before we left, we talked with Jeanine who pointed out that if a crisis that required evacuation ever happened in Arizona leaving behind those without means to evacuate, we’d see the disproportionate number of Mexican Americans who were stranded as all the white folks drove safely away.

 

Shortly after El Paso we were stopped by border patrol. He looked in the van and said “American citizens?” We know that the use of the term America instead of US is one of our pet-peeves, but somehow we expected a little more precision from US Mexico border patrol. We said yes and drove off, joking to each other how that would mean anyone from Tierra del Fuego north, right?

 

Saw a number of cars on the highway with messages painted on them about hurricane relief and their organizations. Kra, our unmarked minivan, followed along, filled with donated bicycles and locks and helmets purchased last night. With all of this love and support being sent to those who lost their homes in the Gulf Coast Region we think about the hundreds of thousands of people who before this were homeless in the United States, or who couldn’t find money or transportation to leave their homes should an accident occur in their town. Wouldn’t it be incredible if the government called a state of emergency regarding our nation’s homeless and those currently below poverty level? And if over the next many weeks people all across the country filled vans and semis with donations of food, clothes, and household items, and filled their hearts with love, and drove them to where they are needed? Those of us in this country with homes and jobs could help those of us without--we could potentially see everyone who wants that find themselves in a job and a home filled with necessities.

 

And of course the government would do its part in that state of emergency and put billions of dollars toward those areas too. But that just takes us to thinking that if the government had donated 10.5 billion dollars to the Gulf Coast Region last year, they probably could have prevented this with restoration of wetlands and repair to the levees and making services available to those with lower or no income.

 

We find ourselves awed at the open space in western Texas. Lots of rain, green, and happy to see windmills out here on the mesas. We’ll be staying with friends Candy and Rosie in Austin tonight. No luck yet reaching Jean and Christiane in San Antonio, but we hope we’ll see them tonight or tomorrow.

 

We have a pay-as-you-go cell phone with us. Family can get the cell number from our parents; colleagues can get it from Paul B, in case anyone needs to reach us.

 

Peace,

Frank and Joan

 

September 10, 2005 3:00 p.m.--It's strange to be leaving on this day. Since it became clear to me that the black working-class and poverty-class members of our community were going to be left in New Orleans without food and water for days, the thought that has played most in my mind is the comparison of how our nation officially responded in September 2001 and September 2005. Of course the response of the people of this nation to any one in trouble is always awe inspiring.

 

I have tried to imagine how it would have been if on September 11, 2001 the planes had crashed into the towers in mid-afternoon when they were full with all of the tens of thousands of people who worked there. And what it would be like if tens of thousands of people had escaped from the towers only to find themselves trapped in lower Manhattan, with the city cut off from all outside contact, no food, no water, and no protection. And if we had all sat here in our homes for days on end watching TV as that part of our community sat and died in front of us due to dehydration, lack of insulin and other medications, and the criminal element that always seems to come forward during times of great crisis and pain.

 

I can't quite make the picture work in my mind and I've not been able to make it clear in my head why I think that could never had happened. I want to blame it on location--as though it is easier to get into lower Manhattan than New Orleans--as though New Orleans is inaccessible as opposed to being fully reachable by land, water, or air. I simply cannot bring myself to think that race and class are the only reasons and yet I can see no other.

 

No one was concerned about the danger to the rescuers that day as thousands of NY firefighters and other agents who are here to protect us rushed in and saved people from a collapsing building. Risked and lost their lives to save those workers from the World Trade Centers. Where was that help as people sat in New Orleans--across the river from their neighbors in Algiers who wanted to help? Just up river from military ships with supplies? Nothing in my mind can make sense of this. Nothing. So I do what I can in other ways because thinking about this is simply too painful. Joan

 

We are about to leave now. The van donated by the Menefee-Cook family--filled with toys and clothes donated by Carson, Tristan, Vivian, and Lena--is full and ready to go. It has bicycles coming out of every window! Beautiful kids' mountain bicycles donated by Taylor Goffena and Harry Lefever. And thanks as well to Anita Fernandez and Chad Linzy for donating more bikes. We are leaving now to give our time and our energy and our hope, supported by so many of you in our community. Within 24 hours of asking our family and fiends to help we received $2,000 in donations. That amount keeps rising and we love that we will be giving these bikes to some kids out there and to a family a new van.

 

We have been trying to find out about our colleagues at the Race, Gender, and Class Project at SUNO since shortly after the flooding began. Today we learned from colleagues involved with the Project that Jean Belkhir, co-director of RGC, and his wife Christiane Charlemaine, are safe at a shelter in San Antonio. Lenus Jack, the other co-director, and his wife Berylyn, are safe with friends in Atlanta. This brought us such joy to learn that these people are safe. Our prayers are with all of those who are still trying to find their loved ones.

 

Jean and Christiane were located by searching the Red Cross safe list--go there if you need to find someone--it's being updated continually.

 

With love and hope. Joan and Frank

 

September 8, 2005, 4:00 p.m.--If you would like to make a donation that is used for direct support you can do that through Prescott College. Checks should be made payable to Prescott College and noted on the check "for Hurricane Relief." Send your checks to Ralph Phillips in care of the Development Office, Prescott College, 220 Grove Avenue, Prescott, AZ 86301.

 

We will be distributing these donations in one of three ways. It will either be: [1] given to churches or other organizations in Texas and Louisiana that are providing direct shelter and finding housing for evacuees; or [2] it will be used to purchase those things that we hear from evacuees in Texas and Louisiana are needed by them, such as food, clothing, or other supplies; or [3] donations that come in through Prescott College after we return to Arizona, will be directed toward relief efforts that Prescott College is supporting in Arizona--specifically it will be used to support those folks who have come to Prescott, Tucson, and Phoenix, and assist them in the process of getting into homes, jobs, and schools here in their new communities.

 

100% of this money donated through the Prescott College Hurricane Relief account will be used for direct support of evacuees and will not be used for our overhead.

 

September 8, 2005, 10:00 a.m.--Hello Family and Friends. As many of you know, for the past five years Frank and I have been involved with the Southern University of New Orleans, one of the Historically Black Universities, and their Race, Gender, and Class Project, and I am a member of the conference organizing committee. We have gone to the annual conference there each September and were scheduled to go on September 18. The SUNO campus, and as well as many of the homes of SUNO students and employees, is in the area closest to the lake and hardest hit by flooding.

 

Our connection with these folks, and our hopes to learn more about the faculty we have worked with over the years, and the many wonderful students we have met, have inspired us to get involved in any way we can. We have been keeping ourselves informed about the relief efforts for those who were displaced by the hurricane and whose homes and communities were destroyed and sharing that information through Prescott College's web site. The site includes a lot of information about what is happening here in our local community, and also projects and organizations all around the country that are helping.

 

This weekend (September 10) we will be driving a van to Louisiana to join friends who left yesterday with a Food Not Bombs kitchen that will be set up and then left in Baton Rouge. We will be delivering a van and other donations directly to those who need them. The van will be given to a family in need; kids care packages and clothes distributed through one of the shelters; bicycles given away to any of the evacuees who need them; and money spent as those most in need feel it should be spent. Frankie is also taking juggling balls to share. We will be sharing our skills and energy wherever it is needed. Most likely our work will be done through Food Not Bombs and some of the many small shelters at churches in the area. David Farmer, parent of one of our students is a minister in Shreveport and we will most likely end up there. Then when we feel ready, back home.

 

We feel good about the huge efforts in this country to assist and the generous way the people of our nation have contributed. If you have been wondering how to contribute, or you want to contribute more, we invite to look into the many organizations that are listed on Prescott College's web page.

 

We don't know what lies ahead in this next week, but we trust that we will be where we are most needed. We hope that we can connect with some students from SUNO and with the faculty we work with from there. We are also hoping to connect with a family or families that want to make Prescott their home and assist them in connecting with those of us in Prescott who have homes or jobs to offer, and perhaps even assist them in getting here.

 

Whatever your choice--please send your prayers/loving thoughts to the Gulf region of our country and all those affected by this event. And of course, do give generously to any of the organizations that are helping those people in need. Our web-page includes a number of small agencies based specifically out of Louisiana, New Orleans, or through the Black community.

 

In solidarity. Joan and Frank

 

DRAFT: This module has unpublished changes.