Proud to be Daddy's Girl

My father has always been a remarkable man.
He is what - to me, anyway - embodies strength, courage, humility, and leadership.

Daddy has also taught me to help others.  His very essence is all in what he can do to lend a hand to those in need.  He instilled in me the importance, not of self, but of selflessness where our brothers and sisters are concerned.  Through his life, I have been witness to his love of service in various ways in our church family.

So it comes as little to no surprise that when our church started a chapter in Disaster Relief, he was one of the first to jump on board.  However, I jumped with him this time as well as my mother and my brother.  We underwent hours of classroom time in all areas of Disaster Relief services...from First Aid to Food Preparation to Damage Assessment to Emergency Services Preparedness.  It also comes as little surprise that the area we both liked and grew fondest of was Food Preparation.

I got my first taste of what it was like to work in this line of service after a terrible flood invaded a little area called Tazewell, Virginia back in 2001.  We loaded up the van and took refuge in a beautiful tiny church in the Tazewell area.  There was no electricity, so baths consisted of nothing but cold water pumped through a PVC pipe in the church showers.

My teeth chatter just remembering it!

We put in a lot of hard hours those few days that we were there.  We worked ceaselessly cooking, cleaning, washing cambros, and delivering food to people with very little rest.  In the end, we went home exhausted but very happy with what we had done.

That Fall, we kept up with our classes and tried to keep everything we learned fresh in our minds.
And then the unthinkable happened.

When we got the call that they wanted our unit to go to NYC the very week the towers were hit, I was terrified...and excited.  I remember my dad asking me if I really wanted to go with them (there was never a doubt HE was going, of course!), and I remember answering that I desperately wanted to go help immediately.

The next week was more food preparation and work than I have probably ever done in my life.  Our job was to make sure that all of the workers going through the rubble at Ground Zero were fed two times a day.  No small task there.

I did all of it side by side with my greatest hero.  I watched and learned from him the way to persevere in the face of exhaustion, to tirelessly extend a kind word, a hug, a prayer and even a hot meal to people with a smile.  I never expected to be doing this kind of work, but I loved it...and I had him to thank for it.

I will never forget it.
I will never forget that the Red Cross put us up in the Naval Brig in the heart of Brooklyn, NY.  I won't forget what it was like to live behind bars out of choice rather than necessity.  I won't forget how bitterly cold the mornings were, how unbelievably hard the beds were, the monotony of the same foods over and over, the pruny hands from hours of cleaning, and how hard it was to find soda.  I'll also never forget leaving my "cell" one morning to take a shower and opening the door to a hallway full of prisoners in orange jumpsuits!

I also will never forget what it was like to do this honor next to my father.  The pride that I feel today is equal to the amount of pride I felt those mornings in NYC.  He makes me want to be a better person.
He IS a better person.

Thanks, daddy.  I love you.