An AFSCME Katrina relief team is visiting homeless shelters in the hardest hit areas — and as far away as Houston — searching victim databases and more in order to reach members in need. Already we've located dozens of displaced members. Below are the stories of some of them.

TURNING ON THE GOOD WATER

New Orleans, Louisiana

When New Orleans sent out a nationwide call for help, Portland alone offered to provide it on a large scale. The city sent a convoy of water department trucks and a crew of 35 — mostly members of Oregon Council 75's Local 189.

For several weeks in October, the Portland crew unclogged storm sewers, repaired pumping motors and broken water mains, and fixed fire hydrants — completing a total of 136 work orders. Their days on the job often stretched to 16 or 18 hours. The first team was replaced by another that's expected to continue the repair work through early December.

Among the worksites was the East Bank plant that handles the majority of the city's sewage treatment. The facility covers 60 acres of the heavily damaged ninth ward and pumps 60 million gallons per day.

Crew members say they're glad they made the trip, despite having to live in makeshift tents. The partnership between the Portland Water Bureau and the New Orleans Sewage and Water Board is partly funded by the Federal Emergency Management Agency.

Photo: Portland City Workers (from left) Warren Gaston Jr., Joy Crays and John Dilg were part of a volunteer crew that helped repair broken water mains in New Orleans. Photo Credit: Jon Kerr

COMBATING KATRINA

Bogalusa, Louisiana

Six corrections officers at the medium-security Washington Correctional Institute here suffered devastating damage to their homes. Among them, all members of Local 3686 (Council 17), were Douglas Brandon and his family — wife Sanny, son Paul, 11, and daughter Victoria, 8 — seen in this photo standing by their demolished house. COs Rosalie Burrell, Carol Jordan, Clifton Kemp, James Mohan and Douglas Wheat also lost their dwellings. Members of the local, led by Pres. Ricco DiPietro, provided food and makeshift shelters. The local also assisted other residents of Washington Parish by handing out food and water, and clearing debris from the main roads. "We all came out of the prison walls — the warden, the inmates and our officers — and worked together to serve our community," says DiPietro.

'THANK GOD FOR AFSCME!'

Louisiana & Texas

2 children & mom in front of damaged home
PHOTO CREDIT: Jon Melegrito

As Hurricanes Katrina and Rita flooded parts of Louisiana and Texas, corrections officers who belong to AFSCME faced a little-publicized but near-horrific set of imperatives: cut the bars to cells whose automatic doors had no electric power; transfer prisoners via long bus trips without food or bathroom facilities; guard violent inmates without access to weapons; even dodge bullets on an interstate highway.

All belong to one of the following locals: 3056, 3686 (Louisiana Council 17); 3114, 3807, 3921 (Texas Council 7).

At Louisiana's Angola prison, COs had to take in 2,000 prisoners evacuated from other state facilities. The inmates arrived wet, filthy and disoriented. "It was a dangerous situation," Angola Warden Burl Cain says. "They were hot; some evacuated fast might have been armed; mosquitoes were biting; conditions were primitive and disgusting. But the COs didn't complain. They were efficient and professional, and they reflected well on your union." Moreover, most of the Louisiana COs working those dangerous 20- and 30-hour shifts did so not knowing how their own homes and families were faring during the disaster.

"Our AFSCME COs evacuated 7,200 inmates," says Angola's Major Shirley Coody. "Tag teams worked around the clock using blowtorches to cut bars because power was down, taking prisoner histories with pen and paper, and boating them to exits on the interstate, where buses could pick them up and bring them here. As our people guarded the waiting prisoners, they got shot at by Orleans Parish gangs that had looted gun and ammunition shops and were shooting at helicopters and other 'targets.'"

NON-STOP DISTRESS. Some bus rides for transfers covered 600 miles. Because they were short staffed, COs didn't dare stop at restrooms or for food. So prisoners arriving at Angola had to be given showers, fresh clothes and meals, then mats for sleeping in the chapel and gym. In addition, massive rearrangement of cell assignments had to be made. "COs pulled together to save lives — that's what they do," Coody says. "They were stressed, exhausted. Our COs even set up a temporary jail at an old Greyhound station, putting up barbed wire and putting down more mattresses."

THE WRATH OF RITA. Just a few weeks later, Rita impacted still more AFSCME COs, this time in east Texas. Four hundred twenty of them in Beaumont alone saw prison roofs torn off, power knocked out and food dwindle down to rations sufficient only for the inmates in their care. Many COs were stranded without enough gas to get home and back between shifts.

"Inside Beaumont, the gates had closed behind us," says CO Ray Stewart. "We were there with no homes to go back to, no cell phones working and no food. We were scrambling to get prisoners out of the damaged unit.

"We were locked in with prisoners but without weapons, only a few ounces of pepper spray, no way to lock down without electricity, and no lights. We'd set up a few portable toilets. It was stifling, bad smelling. People couldn't bathe for four days or more. Tempers were short.

"On top of that, we ran out of food for the COs. Thank God for AFSCME! Council 7 came with barbecue, sodas, baked beans and potato salad. They fed us for four days. Without them, we'd have had no hot meals — in fact, no food at all."

HE ESPECIALLY WANTED SHOES

Michael Mitchell shows off his shoes. PHOTO CREDIT: Jon Melegrito

Although Mitchell had navigated the Mississippi for nine years, this particular crossing was different: Its passengers were not sight-seeing or going to work; they were frightened — escaping a city that was about to be devastated. From 6 A.M. Sunday until 1 P.M., Mitchell made about 30 trips, transporting close to 400 vehicles and a thousand passengers all anxious to leave town before the storm.

Meanwhile, Mitchell's own family — his wife Yolanda and sons Christopher, Michael and Malcolm — waited for him to get off work. Later that same day, joined by six other relatives, who like the Mitchells lived in the hard-hit Gentilly neighborhood — the captain led a four-car caravan that drove north to safety. "We thought we'd be back in two days, so we just kept on driving, looking for a place to stay," he recalls. After seven hours on the road, his 11-member family ended up only 130 miles from New Orleans, in a church shelter in Opelousas.

When Mitchell called the Council 17 office in Baton Rouge a few days later, he had only one request: a pair of size-14 tennis shoes. "My family's got food and shelter, but I couldn't find shoes anywhere," says the captain, who's built like a football lineman.

Mitchell got his wish — thanks to a resourceful member of the AFSCME disaster-relief team.

EMERGENCY CARE

Often working around the clock for days at a time, AFSCME members on staff at the Lallie Kemp Medical Center, in Independence, La., provided heroic service during the worst of Hurricane Katrina. The workers, all members of Local 3121 (Council 17), handled medical emergencies ranging from bloody gashes and wounds to a woman who suffered severe burns when her car caught fire.

• Bobbie Jones, an administrative coordinator, handled phone calls for four straight days, catching only a few hours sleep each night. Most of the incoming calls were frantic appeals and panicky cries for help from area residents who needed medicines, advice and assistance in reaching personal physicians who could not be reached.
• Bio-med technician Dan Bourgeois worked virtually non-stop for five days, making sure that such basic supplies as medicine and flashlights were on hand in adequate numbers and that oxygen tanks, heart monitors and other machines were working properly. Bourgeois also doubled as a security guard. At one point, while Katrina raged, he had to drive 30 miles to rescue a nurse who was on her way to the hospital when she ran out of gas.
• Lisa Hagans, an 18-year veteran as health information director, coordinated closely with doctors and nurses under the most stressful conditions to provide access to medical records. With electrical power out but needing to operate her computer, Hagans called on all her resourcefulness to tap power from a hospital generator.

UP TO THEIR NECKS IN KATRINA

Michele Baker in the ruins of her New Orleans home. PHOTO CREDIT: Jim West

So Baker and her husband Alexander, a rapid-transit operator, sat out the storm in their SUV. "It was rocking in the wind," Baker recalls, "but it stayed above water." The Bakers soon realized they had to get out of the city, so they abandoned "ship" and wound up wading through five feet of water.

"I was up to my neck in it, and I can't swim," says Baker. "I held onto my husband."

They reached a relative's home. But the flood waters kept rising there, so they left for the Superdome — wading through very deep water for about a mile and a half. The Superdome was "unbelievable — people everywhere, on the field, in the bleachers." At that point, the Bakers had a bit of luck: They encountered friends of theirs, 'dome employees who took them into a reserved area where food and water were available, then led them out through tunnels and to a shopping mall where they spent the night in relative peace. Next morning, they boarded buses for Baton Rouge.

A week later, the Bakers were able to retrieve their SUV, which had survived the storm. And several days after that, they returned to New Orleans for a look at their devastated home (see photo).

Michele Baker is president of Local 872 (Council 17), which represents custodians who work for the Orleans Parish School District.

'NOTHING TO LEAN ON BUT GOD'

Hurricane evacuees Daren and Michelle Stacker, with their children (from left) Destinae, 13; Emmett, 15; and Christen, 7. PHOTO CREDIT: Jim West

They grabbed a few things — three pairs of jeans, three T-shirts, slippers and tennis shoes — packed themselves and the kids into their truck, and took off.

Because most of New Orleans was at that point fleeing, it took the Stackers 17 hours to get to the town of Lake Charles, where they slept in a hastily erected shelter. They then went to Baytown, Texas, and on to Houston, where they finally settled in Daren's brother's apartment.

The whole experience has been a nightmare for Daren, Michelle and their children. "It really hit me when we were at the shelter in Baytown," says Michelle. "I went to look for clothes, and I realized that I don't have anything left."

But other members of his family fared even worse — perhaps tragically worse: Daren's twin brother did not get out of New Orleans until Sept. 10, and three other brothers have not been located.

"It hurts like hell," Daren said last week. He's got no job, nowhere to go and "nothing to lean on but God."

AFTERMATH OF DISASTER: LIONEL AND CHARSSIE MUSE

Lionel Muse consoles his wife, Charssie, a member of AFSCME Local 3701 (Council 17), at the council office in Baton Rouge, La. Hurricane Katrina flooded the Muses' house in St. Bernard Parish, one of the most devastated areas. The couple lost the house, their SUV and virtually all their other possessions, including several television sets and a piano Charssie's father gave her when she was 13.

After fleeing the storm, the Muses managed to reach Baton Rouge but had difficulty getting help until they reached the AFSCME office. There the International union's emergency staff provided them with clothing, food coupons and enough money to tide them over. They found shelter with an aunt of Charssie's who lives in the city.

Charssie Muse works as a Medicaid analyst for the state department of health. Katrina had such an impact on her that she told her rescuers, "If I weren't a Christian woman, I would kill myself."