I participated in my second Team Rubicon Op this past week. Eight days that will always remain with me. I will never forget them. And hope to pass on what I have learned and experienced at this Op with others in the hopes to pass on compassion and help those that truly are in need and destitute out there. Operation Hard Hustle at the Wharton, TX FOB (forward operating base) was where I was stationed. I got the text earlier in October asking me to volunteer my time to help out those in the Houston area affected by Hurricane Harvey back in August/September. Team Rubicon has been out there on the ground helping out since the hurricane hit and has been having a slew of volunteers out there helping do damage assessments on homes, mucking out homes and mold mitigation, as well as a variety of other things needed to help those affected in need.
I got the text saying I was going Oct 17 to Oct 24 and my flight info sent less than 12h till when my flight left. I was scrambling to get all my gear together. Made no easier by the fact that I am basically homeless in the non-permanent resident sense of the term and my belongings are in all sorts of locations being stored. Thankfully, I have an amazing set of friends to help me and be there for me when I am in need. My flights were uneventful. I knew instantly when I met my crew at the Houston Airport that we would get along splendidly when we had to cram into the van and made jokes about dirty-minded things, bums rubbing up on each other on the hellaciously scary ride to our FOB and talking about backpacking/outdoor gear (*gasp porn topics for me gasp*). F-bombs being dropped all over the place. Innuendo rampant. Yup. I found my people. The week ahead will be great!
I had no sense of direction of where we were going. The town we were primarily helping was Wharton, TX. Our FOB located at Iago Federated Church. Sleeping in their gym on cots, mixed company. I was thankful for the TR Sit Room Facebook page to help me decide what I did and did not need to pack. We arrived and met the members already at the FOB going out and making a difference in the world helping others. We got our intro briefing from the IC (Incident Commander) and met the Safety, Ops and Logistics members who would be telling us what our objectives for the day are, getting us the tools we need to accomplish the objectives, etc. And we all got our TR red hats and greyshirts. We put our names on them and were then official. We were a part of Op Hard Hustle. And we could not wait to get started in the field!
We learned that there was beer flag around a fire pit at the end of the day. To relax. Decompress. Drink beer. And enjoy the company of newfound friends around a fire. It was here that we really got to know each other, especially since not everyone was on the same strike team and did not interact with others as much. And it was here that I really knew I was with my tribe. Rampant innuendo just as bad as me! People who thought and spoke without filters!
We worked as part of a strike team, going out into the community at homes that had already been damaged assessed by prior TR volunteers. My first two days I was on a team under someone. We worked on a home and sweated our asses off learning about one others. Giving verbal playful jabs, dancing to music and getting the job done. My third day, I was assigned my own strike team, having been made a Team Lead. Shit. Me? The IC made the two dirtiest minded sickest fucks the TLs? The IC merely smiled at me and said maybe there was a reason for it. I now know that reason and see the wisdom in his decision. It was a wise decision and he is a good leader for it. I only wish more people could lead in such a manner.
We'd start the day lights on at 0630h and be loading our trucks up by 0800h and gone to our assignments soon after. We'd work all day till 1700h-ish hours and head back to the FOB. Decontaminate our tools, PPE and trucks and then drive back to Wharton to the community recreation center to take showers and then to dinner. My favorite drive all week was piling my team into a 6 passenger van with 7 people inside. It was crammed. I drove a minivan! We sang along to the songs together. Debated songs. Argued. I was called Mom and my front passenger was Dad. We laughed up a storm and had a ball. Or the time my TL forgot one of the members on our way to showers and had to make a sudden U-turn on the highway to go back and pick him up (a noticeably large man one cannot easily forget, hahaha).
Each day was different from the next. We bonded more and more. We formed a pattern. I learned so much. One wave of people departed us and another came in. A constant flux of volunteers and command staff. There were definitely frustrating times. But there was that reminder this is a volunteer organisation and a community that was so thankful for our presence. We would drive to the nearest store while on break to use the bathroom and people would stop and thank us and share their experience with TR with us. Everything we needed was donated to us. A community suffering such loss found the time to house and feed us and provide materials we used and needed.
Here is a little bit of info from 10/20/17 showing the word that TR has already accomplished addressing the Hurricane Harvey aftermath:
Team Rubicon's largest operation to date has officially hit the big 5-0! Today marks Operation Hard Hustle's 50th Operational Period! I wanted to provide an update on our impact to date:
- 936 completed work orders (ie homes serviced and families helped!)
- 1,797 work orders created
- 1,925 disaster assessments
- 1,294,135 cubic square feet of debris removed
- 1,943 greyshirts deployed
- 448 greyshirts remotely engaged
- 107,310 volunteer hours
- $2.96 million - value of volunteer hours
The numbers say a lot; from Katy, Beaumont, Kashmere Gardens, Friendswood, Magnolia, Wharton, and Rockport, our team continues to make a lasting impact on the people of Texas. It has been a collective effort, and we could not have gotten here without your leadership, dedication, and inspiration - thank you for all that you have done! Tomorrow we hit 51, and we will continue to do what we have been doing all along,
I cannot begin to describe to you the sense of epic loss I currently feel now that I am back home. As if there is a void in me, and I am no longer whole. My whole self became melded with my Team. With my pack. With my tribe. Spending 8 days non-stop with the same people. Working so hard through the blood, sweat and tears. Holding each other up. Supporting one another. Forming such strong and lasting bonds with people who choose to be there. Choose to suffer together knowing their suffering is nothing compared to the people in the community we are volunteering to help. These are the people I am so proud to have met and bonded with. And these are the people I feel so lost without.
I cried when I left them on my flights home. That feeling of loneliness. Of going back into the real world alone. Of interacting with other people not at the Op who did not share that bond or experience what you just did. It is hard. And it is real. I still feel it, two days after being home. And I know I shall feel it for a while. Attempt to reach that high we felt while out on the Op. Helping others selflessly. Seeing the utterly depravity that humans can endure.
How do I begin to explain about the elderly woman's house we did an assessment on that we had to turn down advising it as a possible total loss and unsafe for us to help on, when she reveals her status in a domestic violence situation and goal to fix the house to help get out of it? Going back to her car a strong woman and breaking down into tears as you stand by helplessly wishing murder upon the man that causes her so much pain and only being able to recommend DV resources we knew of to her. Or spending day upon day in stifling muggy heat in a home you are doing a total demo on that was supposed to start out easy and kept getting more and more complicated as you discover more and more damage to it. Damage that was there before the flood. Damage that should have prevented this woman who speaks little English and is poverty-stricken who was afraid to return phone calls for fear of ICE-type reprisal and who bought the home a mere month before the flood. A woman who broke down in tears when she saw all the work we did to the home and could only express her gratitude in tears. Or the proud jovial black man whose home we demo'd who gave me the biggest bear hug and called me daughter with tears in his eyes as we were leaving and showed him his house. How do I begin to express the feelings these experiences gave me? Do I keep them inside? How do I express the absolute destitution I saw people living in while I live my life, granted, mostly transient. But with a job and a roof over my head? I am so very thankful for what I have.
The utter sense of belonging and appreciation. Appreciation of one other and the skills each of us brought to the table. To be assigned to lead such a plethora of experienced people in life. From the retired Lt Col to the current service member to the retired Coast Guard Capt, among so many others. I felt humbled to have been a leader to these people. To have them respect me and ask me and advise me. For their patience as I bumbled along, learning as I went. Fucking up. Noting it. And communicating it. Of assigning tasks. Of sitting people down, talking to them individually and learning about them. Of standing up for them. What an experience. I can only shake my head in wonder at it all.
I experienced my first American flag retirement ceremony. TR members often encounter flags in tatters at disaster sites and will replace them with new flags. The old flags are collected and honorably retired. Which is what we did. Standing in a circle. Sharing our experiences or whatever thoughts flow out. Grown adults sharing their pain with others. Tear-streaked cheeks. Real pain. And real love for what the American flag represents. I felt in awe of those I was in the presence of. As a person who did not serve, as I could not due to my medical status, I do feel a sense of loss for not contributing to my country. I was at a loss for words during the ceremony. And was so very honored to merely witness and be a part of it. Humbling indeed. Thank you, to those who served and those who sacrificed some or all.
For now, TWP is my salvation. The people I formed the closest bonds to. We continue to communicate and hope to have reunions and attend more Ops in the future. But till then, I will cherish my experiences at Op Hard Hustle- Wharton and work and train for the next Op and the ones after that. This is my happy place- helping people through physical labor and face to face in the field experiences. I have goals and guidance in life. I want to continue helping others. And I will. Fuck yes, I will!
TEAM WP for the win!!
