As I entered the room, a dog was laying on the floor next to a man sleeping with his head covered by a jacket. I could smell the smoke. The dog's breathing appeared to be labored, but it did not move. A girl was standing next to the sleeping man and dog.
"Is the dog okay," I asked.
"I'm not sure. I think we need a vet to take a look at her," she replied.
"He'll be fine," murmured the sleeping man.
"He won't let anyone take her," said the girl, "that dog means a lot to him."
"I understand that," I said as I kneeled to pet the dog. It didn't move or even open an eye as I stroked its gritty fur.
"Can you help find a hotel for these folks?" said a women seated at a conference table wearing a Red Cross vest. She was the lead Red Cross responder, and was to be my mentor on this call. "We have four family units here, so we'll need to find a variety of places for them to stay tonight."
Scanning the room I saw about 10 "clients," as the Red Cross calls folks in need of assistance following a disaster. In this case, a duplex had been destroyed by fire. Still in pajama's, they had all run out of the house, leaving everything behind - including identification, wallets, and clothing. As a sign of the times, however, they all had their mobile phones.
This was my first fire call as a Disaster Action Team (DAT) volunteer for the Red Cross. It was to be more complicated than most, with multiple families and different levels of family relationships, some with mental and physical health issues that would require assistance from different parts of the Red Cross organization. The gal in the vest at the conference table had been sorting things out for two hours since arriving on the scene at 4:00 a.m..I was called in after the clients had already been moved to the warmth and safety of a conference room in the local fire station.
"We have five family units, three from the one apartment, and two from the other. The two want to stay in Minneapolis, close to their work, and the other three want to stay more locally. But they don't want to stay in the same hotel. Why don't you talk with them first and see what we can work out. Start with the gal over there, and see if she can help sort it out."
She had scribbled notes defining who was who and who was with who and some other preliminary information. As she handed me a clip board with an intake form on it, she said with a smile, "I know you're a trainee, so don't hesitate to let me know if you need some help. Now put that training to work."
For the next hour I would be on the phone with a variety of hotels that had agreements with the Red Cross, trying to match requirements (accept pets, provide a crib, adjoining rooms, etc.) with the right people. The challenge was keeping track of who was who, who was going where, and who needed what. Quite an initiation. Fortunately for me, the other three volunteers were seasoned veterans who calmly sorted things out, and who were very adept at preventing frustration and stress from manifesting itself in the clients. Those clients were going to spend four to five hours waiting for us to put it all together, all the while unsure of what the next day would hold or how they were going to be ready for it. Their patience and understanding was remarkable in light of their circumstances.
I got involved in this volunteer opportunity through another veteran responder, Bonnie. She's been doing this for more than nine years. For all of those years, I had heard the stories, smelled the smoke in her clothes, and watched as she processed the emotion that can build up in these events. Especially disasters like the I-35 bridge collapse, which she attended each day for more than two weeks. Or the Hugo tornado, where she served multiple families that stared at the little that remained of their homes and belongings. I admired her commitment and professionalism during those years, and thought maybe I could practice the same in helping folks address those first few days of what would be their long term recovery.
My major contribution in this case, however, was the cat. As we were winding down the paperwork and logistics side of things, and the clients were about to leave to find their temporary quarters, one asked if anyone had seen the cat. No one had seen her for quite some time, though they all assumed she was still in the room.
As I searched beneath the blankets and coats lying on the table in the back, far corner of the room, I didn't find the cat, but I did find a small child. He had been sleeping all that time under those blankets in only a diaper. They hadn't had time to grab any clothes or supplies for the child, and it would soon be time to bundle him up in whatever we could and find a car seat for the trip to the hotel.
Searching further underneath the table, I found the feline curled up as far in the corner as she could hide. Not sure what kind of reaction to expect, she purred as I reached to grab her. Without resistance, she allowed me to scoop her up and carry her to the door. The rest you can see in the television news video link below (it opens in a separate window in your browser):
http://www.myfoxtwincities.com/story/27982203/oliver-ave-fire-forces-12-people-out-of-minneapolis-home
Apparently, the cameraman missed the part where I asked not to be filmed as they interviewed folks for the story about the pancake breakfast the local fire station provided.
Since this first experience, I've participated in three other fire calls, two with my principle trainer, Bonnie. After the most recent call, we've decided we make a good team, as we efficiently coordinated the interview process and administrative processes between us. At the end of both calls, the evidence that a difference was made was in the hugs we got from the clients. Sincere hugs, with sincere thanks for helping them get through those first few hours of a significant, life changing, emotional event. 'nuff said.
"Is the dog okay," I asked."I'm not sure. I think we need a vet to take a look at her," she replied.
"He'll be fine," murmured the sleeping man.
"He won't let anyone take her," said the girl, "that dog means a lot to him."
"I understand that," I said as I kneeled to pet the dog. It didn't move or even open an eye as I stroked its gritty fur.
"Can you help find a hotel for these folks?" said a women seated at a conference table wearing a Red Cross vest. She was the lead Red Cross responder, and was to be my mentor on this call. "We have four family units here, so we'll need to find a variety of places for them to stay tonight."
Scanning the room I saw about 10 "clients," as the Red Cross calls folks in need of assistance following a disaster. In this case, a duplex had been destroyed by fire. Still in pajama's, they had all run out of the house, leaving everything behind - including identification, wallets, and clothing. As a sign of the times, however, they all had their mobile phones.
This was my first fire call as a Disaster Action Team (DAT) volunteer for the Red Cross. It was to be more complicated than most, with multiple families and different levels of family relationships, some with mental and physical health issues that would require assistance from different parts of the Red Cross organization. The gal in the vest at the conference table had been sorting things out for two hours since arriving on the scene at 4:00 a.m..I was called in after the clients had already been moved to the warmth and safety of a conference room in the local fire station.
"We have five family units, three from the one apartment, and two from the other. The two want to stay in Minneapolis, close to their work, and the other three want to stay more locally. But they don't want to stay in the same hotel. Why don't you talk with them first and see what we can work out. Start with the gal over there, and see if she can help sort it out."
She had scribbled notes defining who was who and who was with who and some other preliminary information. As she handed me a clip board with an intake form on it, she said with a smile, "I know you're a trainee, so don't hesitate to let me know if you need some help. Now put that training to work."
For the next hour I would be on the phone with a variety of hotels that had agreements with the Red Cross, trying to match requirements (accept pets, provide a crib, adjoining rooms, etc.) with the right people. The challenge was keeping track of who was who, who was going where, and who needed what. Quite an initiation. Fortunately for me, the other three volunteers were seasoned veterans who calmly sorted things out, and who were very adept at preventing frustration and stress from manifesting itself in the clients. Those clients were going to spend four to five hours waiting for us to put it all together, all the while unsure of what the next day would hold or how they were going to be ready for it. Their patience and understanding was remarkable in light of their circumstances.
My major contribution in this case, however, was the cat. As we were winding down the paperwork and logistics side of things, and the clients were about to leave to find their temporary quarters, one asked if anyone had seen the cat. No one had seen her for quite some time, though they all assumed she was still in the room.
As I searched beneath the blankets and coats lying on the table in the back, far corner of the room, I didn't find the cat, but I did find a small child. He had been sleeping all that time under those blankets in only a diaper. They hadn't had time to grab any clothes or supplies for the child, and it would soon be time to bundle him up in whatever we could and find a car seat for the trip to the hotel.
Searching further underneath the table, I found the feline curled up as far in the corner as she could hide. Not sure what kind of reaction to expect, she purred as I reached to grab her. Without resistance, she allowed me to scoop her up and carry her to the door. The rest you can see in the television news video link below (it opens in a separate window in your browser):
http://www.myfoxtwincities.com/story/27982203/oliver-ave-fire-forces-12-people-out-of-minneapolis-home
Apparently, the cameraman missed the part where I asked not to be filmed as they interviewed folks for the story about the pancake breakfast the local fire station provided.
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