Diary of a Volunteer

[Reverend Recoil]

Monty Aghazadeh is the son of Dr. Fereydoun Aghazadeh, my LSU Engineering professor from twenty years ago. He wrote me such a fine letter that I just had to copy it for you.

Reverend Recoil

 

 

Dear friends and family,

 

As you may or may not know, during the past two nights I have been volunteering in the special needs shelters on LSU’s campus to help the victims of hurricane Katrina in any way possible. I am writing of my experiences there to show everyone who reads this that all the support demonstrated through volunteerism and through donations is truly making an unbelievable difference for the evacuees. I can tell you right now that all the victims are extremely thankful of your continued support. The victims that I talked to are unbelievably gracious about all our community and nation has done to support them. Please forward this, so all may be aware of their situation. The following are only a few of the many encounters I had with numerous individual victims:

 

When I first entered the Maddox fieldhouse, I was told many of the victims had not had baths for several days and volunteers were desperately needed to bathe these people. I was asked to bathe an elderly paraplegic gentleman. After a slight moment of hesitation, I stepped up along with one of my friends and we gave this gentleman a sponge bath. I cannot think of a more humbling experience. The man was very thankful.

 

At one point, I was in the bathroom cleaning out the pan I used to wash the elderly gentleman. Next to me was a man shaving. I looked at him through the mirror and started up a conversation with him, I had no idea what I was getting into. He started to, in detail, describe the events of the last few days.

 

He told me how at 7am the day of the hurricane, he intended to leave his house because the storm had gotten too bad. He started to pick up the necessary items, but in literally 15 minutes his house was covered with water as he scrambled up to the roof. Little did he know it at the time, but he would have to remain on that roof for almost 2 days until he could be rescued by a helicopter. I could see his skin was unnaturally charred from sun exposure. As I stood there looking at him in the mirror and listening to him, I occasionally glanced back at myself and wondered if any facial expression would appropriately capture my concern for the situation. None would. All I could do was occasionally express my sympathy as I heard him out.

 

Next, I came across a lady, Cynthia, who wanted to go to the bathroom but was having slight difficulties putting her shoes on. I asked her if I could help her with anything. She looked up at me, thought for a second and then said, “You got any scissors or knives?” Cynthia wanted me to cut off the back part of her shoes so that she could slip them on and off with ease just like slippers. I soon found a small pocket knife and my friend and I began sawing away at the backs of her shoes to make them more accommodating. In 10 minutes we finished the task and she slipped them on. She looked down at her shoes, admired them for a moment, looked back up at us and displayed genuine excitement for the slight modification of her shoes. It’s just amazing to me how such a small simple thing can make such a large difference. I suppose that’s how life always is though.

 

During the second night, I wheeled one lady, Ms. Gayle, to her bed when she entered the field house. She was apparently very tired, but evidently still in good spirits as she jokingly asked me if there were men in the shelter: she was having a bad hair day. Ms. Gayle was a retired hotel chef and told me all about her career and promised that she would teach me how to cook as well, starting with the first lesson of egg poaching. Her slippers were tattered, wet, and torn so I found some socks for her in the stack of donated items. I personally put them on her myself and watched her face light up. She insisted on giving me a hug and made me promise that I’d visit her again tomorrow.

 

Next, there was a call for a male volunteer to help an elderly gentleman to the bathroom. After searching for 15 minutes, I found a free wheelchair – these are treated like gold at the shelter – and approached the man, Mr. Leslie. I helped him out of his bed and onto his chair and began to wheel him to the restroom. He told me how he had not heard from his wife and kids since the hurricane and was quite worried. When we entered the bathroom, he needed help getting on the stall so I had to place my hands under his shoulders, lift him up, and basically place him on the stall. After returning, to his bedside, I sat and talked with him for 30 minutes about anything and everything until he fell asleep. He was very thankful.

 

At one point, I wandered over to the PMAC and found one lady sitting in a chair among a group of bed-ridden patients. Her name was Mrs. Janet. She looked unbelievably exhausted and lonely so I sat next to her and began talking. I found out she was sitting there watching over her daughter, a severe diabetic, and her husband, a very elderly man. They had been stranded in Metairie during the hurricane and were unable to evacuate for some reason or other. Mrs. Janet had to stay in their family home for 3 days after the hurricane without electricity or water and take care of her husband and daughter. During those days, she desperately hoped and prayed someone would come by and discover them in their severely damaged house, despite the fact that they were the only people remaining in their neighborhood. Eventually some policemen found them and the family were evacuated to Baton Rouge in an ambulance. Before I knew it, almost 2 hours had passed, we were amidst a lengthy discussion of whether prayer should be allowed in schools, and I had successfully taken her mind off the unbearable situation she had to face. I honestly feel this made a difference.

 

These are just a few of the numerous tasks I performed while volunteering, but I think they accurately and forcefully describe just how important and essential volunteers and donations are needed and appreciated during this time of need.

 

Best Wishes,

 

Monty Aghazadeh

LSU student

 

 

[FC]

Pretty interesting. Thank you for posting this.

Monty Aghazadeh is the son of Dr. Fereydoun Aghazadeh, my LSU Engineering professor from twenty years ago.  He wrote me such a fine letter that I just had to copy it for you.

Reverend Recoil

Dear friends and family,

 

As you may or may not know, during the past two nights I have been volunteering in the special needs shelters on LSU’s campus to help the victims of hurricane Katrina in any way possible. I am writing of my experiences there to show everyone who reads this that all the support demonstrated through volunteerism and through donations is truly making an unbelievable difference for the evacuees. I can tell you right now that all the victims are extremely thankful of your continued support. The victims that I talked to are unbelievably gracious about all our community and nation has done to support them. Please forward this, so all may be aware of their situation. The following are only a few of the many encounters I had with numerous individual victims:

 

When I first entered the Maddox fieldhouse, I was told many of the victims had not had baths for several days and volunteers were desperately needed to bathe these people. I was asked to bathe an elderly paraplegic gentleman. After a slight moment of hesitation, I stepped up along with one of my friends and we gave this gentleman a sponge bath. I cannot think of a more humbling experience. The man was very thankful.

 

At one point, I was in the bathroom cleaning out the pan I used to wash the elderly gentleman. Next to me was a man shaving. I looked at him through the mirror and started up a conversation with him, I had no idea what I was getting into. He started to, in detail, describe the events of the last few days.

 

He told me how at 7am the day of the hurricane, he intended to leave his house because the storm had gotten too bad. He started to pick up the necessary items, but in literally 15 minutes his house was covered with water as he scrambled up to the roof. Little did he know it at the time, but he would have to remain on that roof for almost 2 days until he could be rescued by a helicopter. I could see his skin was unnaturally charred from sun exposure. As I stood there looking at him in the mirror and listening to him, I occasionally glanced back at myself and wondered if any facial expression would appropriately capture my concern for the situation. None would. All I could do was occasionally express my sympathy as I heard him out.

 

Next, I came across a lady, Cynthia, who wanted to go to the bathroom but was having slight difficulties putting her shoes on. I asked her if I could help her with anything. She looked up at me, thought for a second and then said, “You got any scissors or knives?” Cynthia wanted me to cut off the back part of her shoes so that she could slip them on and off with ease just like slippers. I soon found a small pocket knife and my friend and I began sawing away at the backs of her shoes to make them more accommodating. In 10 minutes we finished the task and she slipped them on. She looked down at her shoes, admired them for a moment, looked back up at us and displayed genuine excitement for the slight modification of her shoes. It’s just amazing to me how such a small simple thing can make such a large difference. I suppose that’s how life always is though.

 

During the second night, I wheeled one lady, Ms. Gayle, to her bed when she entered the field house. She was apparently very tired, but evidently still in good spirits as she jokingly asked me if there were men in the shelter: she was having a bad hair day. Ms. Gayle was a retired hotel chef and told me all about her career and promised that she would teach me how to cook as well, starting with the first lesson of egg poaching.  Her slippers were tattered, wet, and torn so I found some socks for her in the stack of donated items. I personally put them on her myself and watched her face light up. She insisted on giving me a hug and made me promise that I’d visit her again tomorrow.

 

Next, there was a call for a male volunteer to help an elderly gentleman to the bathroom. After searching for 15 minutes, I found a free wheelchair – these are treated like gold at the shelter – and approached the man, Mr. Leslie.  I helped him out of his bed and onto his chair and began to wheel him to the restroom. He told me how he had not heard from his wife and kids since the hurricane and was quite worried. When we entered the bathroom, he needed help getting on the stall so I had to place my hands under his shoulders, lift him up, and basically place him on the stall. After returning, to his bedside, I sat and talked with him for 30 minutes about anything and everything until he fell asleep. He was very thankful.

 

At one point, I wandered over to the PMAC and found one lady sitting in a chair among a group of bed-ridden patients. Her name was Mrs. Janet. She looked unbelievably exhausted and lonely so I sat next to her and began talking. I found out she was sitting there watching over her daughter, a severe diabetic, and her husband, a very elderly man. They had been stranded in Metairie during the hurricane and were unable to evacuate for some reason or other. Mrs. Janet had to stay in their family home for 3 days after the hurricane without electricity or water and take care of her husband and daughter. During those days, she desperately hoped and prayed someone would come by and discover them in their severely damaged house, despite the fact that they were the only people remaining in their neighborhood. Eventually some policemen found them and the family were evacuated to Baton Rouge in an ambulance. Before I knew it, almost 2 hours had passed, we were amidst a lengthy discussion of whether prayer should be allowed in schools, and I had successfully taken her mind off the unbearable situation she had to face. I honestly feel this made a difference.

 

These are just a few of the numerous tasks I performed while volunteering, but I think they accurately and forcefully describe just how important and essential volunteers and donations are needed and appreciated during this time of need.

 

Best Wishes,

 

Monty Aghazadeh

LSU student

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