Hi, my name is Lydia, and I’ve been working here at the
Louisville Area Chapter for just over a month now.
Before that, if you had asked me what actions need to be
taken to be ready in case of a disaster, I would have shrugged my shoulders and
struggled to think, “Ummm… I’m not sure. Buy lots of canned beans and tuna? And
water maybe? Oh, and keep a flashlight handy. That’s about it, I think.”
That was before I was hired, along with seven other aspiring
disaster safety enthusiasts, to serve with the Red Cross for a year as an
AmeriCorps member. We came from all across the country; one of my fellow
AmeriCorps members made the move from Wyoming. I had spent the past six years
in Alabama.
For me, it was a homecoming. I was born and raised in
Kentucky, and all of my family and many friends were here. I had spent four
years as an undergraduate in Birmingham studying journalism, and after spending
two years there working as a young professional, first in retail and later in healthcare
administration, I decided I wanted to travel north, back to the land of horses,
collegiate basketball and grandmother’s cherry pie.
Here the grass is really greener and our degree of
“Southerner” somewhat less acute, if the Kentuckian in question chooses to
ascribe to that label at all. Being from a small Central Kentucky town, I was
curious about this city that we were all supposed to “keep weird.”
Besides, Birmingham may be called the “Magic City,” and
that’s all well and good, but the place has its’ downfalls. To be specific, in
the month before I left, I found one downfall in my shoe (not while I was
wearing it, thank goodness), two on the ceiling over my bed, multiple downfalls
in my tub and four in the sheets on my bed. Birmingham is crawling with
cockroaches, literally.
On several occasions I would prematurely whisk a
still-hot-and-gooey pan of brownies away from the stove top, cover it with
aluminum foil and shove it into the refrigerator before one of the littler
critters could even think about it. There was no safe place.
It’s really crazy, but they can be found even in the nicest of
places down there, and they are resilient. The pest control spray never seemed
to help. The four in my bed (each on a separate occasion) eventually drove me
from it. I rode out my last week in Birmingham surfing my own couch.
My grandparents were excited, my parents were over the moon
and I was ready for a mattress and a new adventure.
And adventure is what I got. Our crew of eight spent our first
six days on the job in training. For those situations in which there is a house
or apartment fire and the Red Cross gets a call to meet the clients’ immediate
needs, we learned how a Disaster Action Team run should go. In the event that a
disaster occurs, we learned how to check those affected into a Red Cross shelter
as well as the guidelines on how to keep a shelter running smoothly.
And lastly, our presentation abilities were tested and then
polished, as perhaps the majority of our time as Community Resiliency
Specialists would be spent in going out into the community and teaching people
how to be disaster-ready.
And now, whether I’m teaching the second and third graders
in Jefferson County how to pack a pillowcase disaster kit with our Pillowcase
Project, or presenting to those with functional and access needs on how they
can advocate for themselves in a disaster situation with our new Maintaining
your Independence program, the rewards of my service here are great.
I love seeing new faces each day. Each time the hand of an eager seven-year-old
shoots up to tell the story of that time the Red Cross helped his neighbors
after they had a fire, or a senior adult asks me if she will be able to easily maneuver
her wheelchair around a Red Cross shelter, I’m reminded that to serve as an
ambassador between the organization itself and the community we serve is a
position I take seriously and am honored to hold.
…...
While I was in my new apartment a few weeks ago just
beginning to unpack, I saw a cockroach scurry out from beneath my desk. Before
I had my wits about me he was out of sight. I knew the little devil must have taken
passage inside one of the drawers.
My involuntary scream gave me away, and then I hung my head.
I had been hoping to put an end to this once and for all.
My roommate ran in. “What is it?”
I explained.
“Well, where is it?” she demanded.
I shrugged and pointed vaguely, indicating an area that
included an entire wall.
She was not thrilled.
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