We Will Rebuild

Sixteen years ago enemy-caused disaster happened on American soil. Our lives changed on that day. We dug through the rubble, and helped one another out of the ashes and debris. We were stunned. But we set our jaws and said, “We will rebuild.”

Sixteen days ago nature-caused disaster happened on Texas soil. Our lives changed on that day. We dug through the rubble, and helped one another out of the flood waters and debris. We were stunned. But we set our jaws and said, “We will rebuild.”

One of the images from 9/11/2001 is of an American flag being flown on a pole among the debris.

Raising the Flag at Ground Zero
image from Wikipedia

In honor of that, a friend who has a pile of debris outside his home, posted an American flag among the debris.

Derrick and Gloria Campos fly the American flag
on the debris in front of their flooded home

He is at the stage of mucking out where they could power wash the floors, which he describes as, “One step closer to being one step closer to being one step closer to being clean.” It’s not an easy process.

He’s had a good attitude about this, considering. This is their third flood: Memorial Day Flood 2015, Tax Day Flood 2016, and Hurricane Harvey 2017. All of these were rainfalls beyond expectation, beyond 100-year flood levels (way beyond). They hadn’t built in a foolish place—unless you expect these crazy storms. Odds are there won’t be another for half a millennium. Yet they’ve come three years in a row.

Derrick told their story on the walls. And they had people from each day’s work crew sign a wall. Here’s the collection.

Wall from Derrick Campos's flooded home
The collection was posted on Facebook by Amy Knight

All I can say is, I admire the good attitude and resilience. It’s exemplary of who we are as Texans and Americans. We get to work, and we rebuild.

I spent a week out of town, visiting my son and his family. This was the view of our entrance when I left.

It was still a few days later before water was down to make the roads passable, and people near us were able to get back to their homes and begin the mucking out process, so they can eventually rebuild. On Saturday I drove through those streets. And this was the common sight.

It’s not going to be easy. But the bones of these houses are still good. Sometimes the insides are back to where they were 25-30 years ago, during the original building process—bare concrete floors and wall studs. But a year from now, barring further disaster, the signs of the storm will be hard to see.

This is still my favorite image from 9-11-2001, “Out of the Ashes” by artist Ken Turner. It shows our indomitable America spirit.

"Out of the Ashes" by Ken Turner

There’s no painting or iconic image yet for Hurricane Harvey. But, as a comparison, I’ll use this group of nearly 500 Mormon Helping Hands gathered yesterday morning for a brief church service and then instructions before dividing up into work crews for yet another day of helping their neighbors dig out of the debris. The photo was posted on Facebook by Melissa Willis, and captioned, "Get on your knees and pray, then get on your feet and get to work," quoting Gordon B. Hinckley. 

Mormon Helping Hands from the Bear Creek Stake
Center is Stake President Scott Welch; at the podium
is his counselor, President Dave Hansen

As I’m writing this, we’re waiting for news about how Florida has survived Hurricane Irma. Early reports are that the storm was not as devastating as it might have been; it had been a category 5 hurricane, but by landfall last night was down to a category 1. But that’s still a dangerous storm. So our prayers are with them today. We’re with them in spirit.

I hope the fear of storms doesn’t interfere with our lives. Or the fear of loss. Or the sadness at lost treasures—photos, heirlooms, surroundings. I hope what lasts is the memory of helping one another, of being in this together, rebuilding together.

Because United We Stand.

Through the Deep Waters

I’ve been away from Houston the past several days, helping out family, as planned well before Hurricane Harvey. But I’ve been following much of the labor and service and heartache, and I’m so proud of my many friends who are reaching out and putting in one heavy-labor day after another, at no cost—simply because it has to be done, and we Texans have compassion for those in need.

Disaster relief comes in stages: preparation, getting through the storm, rescue, mucking out, and then rebuilding. We’re at the mucking out stage now. In some neighborhoods, enough of that has been done to get trucks in to pick up the debris. In other areas, houses still have standing water, and the owners are still waiting to get inside. The longer that takes, the more damage, sadly.

Anyway, as you might imagine, there’s no hiring enough workers to muck out that many homes, and many homeowners are unable to do the job themselves. That means, if it’s going to get done, it’s volunteers who will do it. And that’s what my friends are doing.

So I’ll just share a few of their images that I’ve borrowed from Facebook. I want to note that Mormon Helping Hands aren’t the only helpers. We’re two percent of the population, and no everyone has the right age and ability for this job. Catholic Charities is working with us, and there are many other organizations and ad hoc community groups doing this messy work. But my access to friends who are doing this is mostly Mormon Helping Hands.

This first group is from my ward (congregation) Monday. Similar groups (including many of the same people) have been mucking out homes since late last week. 

Mormon Helping Hands from Copperfield Ward on Monday
Several friends posted this photo, so I'm guessing and
giving photo credit to Janet Taylor

Here’s another crew coming from my church building. Their regular church building got a lot of water damage, so they'll be sharing our building for some time.

Mormon Helping Hands from Bear Creek and Westlake Wards on Monday.
Photo credit to Melissa Willis

And here’s another crew from a little way north. They were lucky to have President Dieter F. Uchtdorf, of the First Presidency (a counselor to the Prophet and President of our worldwide Church) show up for services on Sunday—which were short and followed by work crews heading out to assignments. In every way, it was a special Sunday service.

Cypress Stake Center, which had been a command center
for boat rescue, is now a command center for
Mormon Helping Hands. President Uchtdorf
showed up to join them this Sunday.
Photo credit to Mary Moellmer.

If you wonder what mucking out means, it’s tearing out flooring, moving damaged furniture and debris to the curb for pickup, and tearing out damaged drywall from above the flood line so the insides of the walls can dry out completely before rebuilding can be done.

It looks like this.

Photo credit to Derrick Campos, who hasn't been able to get back in
his own house yet, but has spent the waiting time helping other
people do the mucking out. This is the third time his home has
flooded in recent years. Sometimes life isn't fair.

Another photo from Derrick Campos

This is what's happening inside--cutting out drywall.
Another photo from Derrick Campos

Flooring gets removed inside as well.
Photo from Melissa Willis, who had water up
onto the driveway, but her house was spared.

  

Some friends of mine, the Siebert family, are very talented. Jim Siebert is the meteorologist for the local Fox television station, and he’s the one many of us tuned in to for constant updates during the storm week. His wife, Debbie, is a musician, with a particularly gorgeous voice. They have been doing short Sunday hymn videos for a while—the whole family. They did one this past Sunday. It’s a hymn, “How Firm a Foundation.” It’s a common Christian hymn, although I think many churches use a different tune (“Old Hundredth,” I think it’s called). But they do the one from our LDS Hymns. The fourth verse, which we’ve sung all our lives, has taken on new meaning these past couple of weeks:

When through the deep waters I call thee to go,

The rivers of sorrow shall not thee o’erflow,

For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless,

And sanctify to thee, and sanctify to thee,

And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.

The Sieberts used photos from the disaster and cleanup as backdrop to their song. When they get to this verse, they change tempo and tone, which brought the tears when I heard it—for the sorrow of loss so many are feeling, because of literal deep waters; for the generosity and kindness of so many who are helping others in their need; and for the love that we feel from our Father in Heaven, who promises to be with us, our troubles to bless and sanctify.

We’ve said for more than a decade now, when the Lord wants His people to turn to him, He sends a hurricane to the Gulf Coast. Mormon Helping Hands have been active here since 2005, the year of Katrina and Rita. Would that we would all turn to Him without these painful reminders. But bad things happen even to very good people. When they do, our job is to serve God by serving one another.

One More Little Story of Hurricane Harvey

During Hurricane Harvey, and even since, we have had an outpouring of concern for us. But our home was never in danger. As I talked about Monday, we’re just north of the Addicks Reservoir, which filled fuller than it has ever been. Ever!

We looked at elevations. The spillway was breached about 108 feet. As that happened, and more water just kept coming, there was an estimate that the level would peak just under 110 feet. Our street level drain is at about 109. Our house is another foot or two higher. Maybe three feet. With water already going over the spillway, it couldn’t get as high as we are without filling every part of Houston lower than about 112 feet.

But it was close. Our usual subdivision entrance has been underwater since Saturday night. We were concerned that the other entrance would be closed and leave us on an island with no way out. But that didn’t happen.

This is usually the entrance to our subdivision. Neighbors were putting up
a line of sandbags, trying to keep it from coming up on our side.

They ingeniously filled garbage bags with sand
from our neighborhood volleyball court.

During a storm like this, the first concern is personal. Are we going to be OK? And then comes concern for others. Since we felt fairly secure, we have been very concerned for many others, many we know that had to evacuate or suffer damage to their homes. A third of Harris County was underwater, which is only just today beginning to recede.

We haven’t left home much, because we don’t have rescue equipment, and it was often better to be off the roadways and out of the way of rescue personnel.

This is across the main four-lane road separating the upper and
lower parts of our subdivision. I usually take this route
to go to the neighborhood pool. Only high profile vehicles
could navigate this relatively shallow part of the main road.
The neighborhood roads are for all-terrain military
vehicles or boats only.

These rescuers are launching from the 4-lane road so they
can go down into the neighborhood. By Wednesday, people
who thought they could stay might be ready to get out.

But that idleness leads to a sort of survivors’ guilt anxiety. It is better to be out doing something meaningful. My prayers had included being guided to know what to do to help.

Yesterday we again took a walk to our entrance, and down the main street along our subdivision fence. The water was a bit higher than the day before. And boats and military vehicles were still doing work to get people out. There are people who would have stayed in an upstairs floor, where they’re safe, but then after a day realize they’d better get out.

As we were walking, we came upon a man sitting on the grass, with five dogs: a Chihuahua, three Dachshunds, and a Labrador. At first we thought he was just out walking the dogs. But as we talked, we learned he was displaced from one of those flooded houses across the street. We ended up driving him out to Katy, and learned more of his story along the way.

We found Dean and his dogs sitting on
the grass, just up from all that water. They took
a boat ride out just a couple of hours earlier.

His name is Dean. He had spent the night in a shelter at St. Maximillian, a Catholic Church about five miles away, where he reported they treated him very well. The rising waters sort of sneaked up on him, he said. He owns another house in Rockport, where the hurricane landed, and he’d been paying attention to that, and worrying about both the house and his friend who was living there. It’s a 100-year-old house they had just finished renovating. (It survived, by the way, while much of Rockport was completely flattened.)

That would have been how he spent Friday and Saturday. It was Saturday night when the torrents really hit in Houston. He hadn’t been that concerned, because he hadn’t flooded during the Tax Day Flood last year, even when several streets of homes near him had. That was 15 inches of rain. How bad could this be?

Then, all day Sunday the waters rose. Monday, water was still rising. By Tuesday he had water in the house. Who knows how long that water is going to stay there, waiting to drain? His house is, for now, part of the Addicks Reservoir.

Tuesday he saw a military vehicle going down the street, and he realized he’d better take the chance to get out. He had no time to take anything with him. He set up the house so the dogs would have food and water upstairs, and he left for the shelter.

Then on Wednesday he came back to see if he could rescue his animals. On the way in, he had to wade through chest-deep water for about half a mile to get to the house. Inside was a mess, but the dogs were upstairs and safe, just worried. He had to wait for an animal rescue boat to get them out, because there was no way to carry all five, and the water was too deep. The Labrador might have been able to swim, but the little dogs—two of whom were pretty old—couldn’t. So they waited for the boat and got on. Fortunately, he was able to take one small bag with him this time.

But then, once out, he had no transportation. And he realized that he had left his cell phone in his back pocket, so it no longer worked. He had planned to end up in his ex-wife’s and daughter’s house, but he hadn’t memorized the phone number; he always depended on his phone to remember for him.

Dean hesitated to ask, but he ventured to see if we had a vehicle that he could put dogs in. We do. We’re dog people, even though we don’t own one right now. We were going to go back to the house with him, to see if we could find the phone number on a computer. But it was about a mile walk back, and those little dogs have very short legs. By the time we got to the open entrance, Mr. Spherical Model decided he’d leave us there and walk quickly back for the car.

In our haste, we didn’t think to bring water or food. Afterward we learned he had been sitting there with his animals for probably two hours when we came upon him. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast at the shelter. We’re sorry about that, Dean.

I-10, also called the Katy Freeway, was
at a near standstill. This was on a low traffic day.
So glad we hadn't been expected to evacuate
the whole city on this road, even though it's maybe
the world's biggest freeway.

The drive to Katy usually takes about 25-30 minutes in good traffic. We had to go out of our way, since the usual route was right through the reservoir and will be underwater for probably the next couple of months. We went east to Beltway 8, south to I-10, and then west toward Katy. And then hit traffic. There was an accident slowing traffic almost as soon as we got on the freeway. And then traffic slowed because water on the road was taking up a couple of lanes. So it took about half an hour to get past that section. The rest of the way was clear, and we dropped him off safely.

Dean isn’t a neighbor we’d met before, even though we’re within a mile, and are essentially part of the same subdivision. At first he seemed a bit muddled, and was having a hard time explaining things or making decisions. Eventually, though, on our way, we learned about his work (in real estate and related work), and he seemed to be thinking clearer. It helped that the answer of where to go and how to get there were finally answered for him.

I wrote down for him the hotline numbers for the LDS Mormon Helping Hands, Catholic Charities, and others who will work together to do recover volunteer work once people can get back into their homes.

South of the Addicks Resesrvoir, water had covered the much lower
feeder road and, despite all efforts, had taken out a couple of lanes of I-10.

Eventually Dean will be OK. And we felt better because we had found a meaningful way to help. It was only one person (and five dogs), and there are tens of thousands of displaced people. I was reminded of the parable about the starfish left on shore when the tide goes out. You can’t save them all, so why try? Because it will mean something to the one you can save.

On our way home, we stopped by a restaurant where Mr. Spherical Model has been doing performance consulting lately. They had taken on a little water and were replacing a piece of carpet. But they were due to open the bar with limited food today, and a limited dinner menu by Friday night. In the meantime, they were making soup and bread to take to shelters. They’d done that the day before and were just getting ready to provide food for up to 300 people being sheltered at nearby Cy-Fair Lone Star College, where several smaller shelters had been consolidated. The workers were upbeat and willing, and excited to be doing what they do best—feeding people.

It will be a while before Houston and surrounding areas are back on firm ground. But spiritually, Hurricane Harvey showed that so many Texans have been on firm ground all along.

The Rains Came Down and the Floods Came Up

We’re in Houston. We’re still OK. It’s still raining.

It’s the fourth day of Harvey, although we only got sprinkles on most of Friday. The winds of Hurricane Harvey did most of their damage Friday night further south, toward Corpus Christi. Entire towns were laid low. Rockport hardly still exists. But very little human life was lost, because people evacuated.

Hurricane Harvey, photo National Weather Service

Wind has not been an issue here in Houston, with the storm downgraded to a tropical storm, but it is stalled and swirling. It is rain like we haven’t seen here—or anywhere—since, maybe Noah. (I’m thinking it must have been challenging for Noah and family to have this downpour for ten times longer than we have faced so far. Although they were probably occupied enough with the animals not to obsess about it much.)

Houston is built for floods. The city is at about 30 feet above sea level and very flat. So we have a canal system in and around every neighborhood to take care of runoff. It’s called the Bayou City, which sounds better than the Drainage Canal City. Also, there are areas set apart as runoff reservoirs. Just south of us is the Addicks-Barker Reservoir. In normal times, it’s a very large park, with baseball and soccer fields, camp sites, a tiny zoo, and lots of biking trails. When it rains, it becomes a lake. 

Sometimes water flows onto nearby roads, and traffic gets diverted to alternate routes for a while.

This setup handled Tropical Storm Allison in 2001, Hurricane Rita in 2005 (two weeks after Katrina), Hurricane Ike in 2008, the Tax Day Flood of 2016.

Actually, the Tax Day Flood—before hurricane season, just a freak storm—showed us the limits. This is like the Tax Day Flood day after day. 

Addicks and Barker Reservoirs Elevation

Last night Harris County officials decided to open the dams, for a controlled release. It will relieve some of the water rising on homes near the reservoir, but endangers more places downstream. But if the dam were to be breached, an uncontrolled release would affect those downstream locations even worse. During a press conference a newsperson asked about that, because it looks like officials are choosing whom to flood. But the official just looked at him and said, “Downtown is already flooded.”

Downtown Houston before and after the flood
photo found here

It was surprising how quickly we got back to normal after that April 2016 flood. Water drained. Much of the building material was designed to handle that and was quickly cleaned and serviceable. I don’t know how long recovery will take this time. Water is higher. It’s staying longer. Downtown could take longer.

Many of the homes affected last year went through a months-long recovery process, and homeowners have probably felt uneasy this entire hurricane season. Many of the same people are being affected again. As well as many who were a close call last time.

This is the front door of our beloved LDS Houston Temple
photo courtesy the Haines family,
more information here

Usually we worry about areas closer to the coast, in southeast Houston. This storm is big enough to affect the full circle around the Greater Houston Area. And that’s a big area—bigger than Rhode Island, and twice the population of Manhattan. Random places are affected that haven’t been hit before. And it is an unimaginable amount of water. (This Washington Post story tries to give perspective.)

At our home wee’re at 30.12 inches since the storm began. We got 15 inches in the Tax Day Flood. We got more than 15 inches the first 24 hours of Harvey, but we’re only getting about 9 inches a day since. Whoever thought saying “only 9 inches of rain” would make sense? I've been obsessed with the Harris County Flood Warning System site, which is full of useful graphics and data.

What I’m trying to say is, this isn’t in any way the fault of people who have built in high-risk areas, or who have done less than they should to take precautions. We have learned with every storm, and have gotten better at handling floods. I’m very grateful to both government and private citizens who are going out of their way to rescue and care for people.

Loss of life count on this fourth day is at three confirmed, including where the Hurricane made landfall—or maybe five in some reports. [While I was writing this, a family of six was washed away in their car. Surely the count will go up a bit.] Each of these is important and unfortunate. But at this point 2000 people had lost their lives in Katrina. That difference is stunning.

Looting has been minimal. A story I read yesterday reported two shootings of home invaders, one killed. And the story pointed out that there are 22 million guns in Texas. So, unlike New Orleans after Katrina, looting here is not profitable.

There was no panic to evacuate. Those who needed to evacuate have done it orderly, as needed. More evacuations are happening, including long-time friends of ours this very afternoon. This evening evacuation orders came out for subdivisions just across the main road from us, and just to the west of us. (Actually, our subdivision has been mentioned, but as a warning, not mandatory, if I’m understanding correctly.)

Our church doors have been opened to about a dozen families. Downtown, the George R. Brown Convention Center is taking in 4800 refugees. Somewhere around 30,000 (estimates keep rising) have been evacuated. Thousands are being rescued in boats and by Coast Guard and Navy helicopters. I heard about a search and rescue team from Utah that traveled here to find and save people in trouble. And people with boats have answered the County Judge’s request to go out in neighborhoods to collect flood victims and transport them to shelters.

People who are dry in homes are asking how to help [some suggestions here], and where they can take donations of water and other basic needs. We’ll get more of those as people can be certain they’re safe to go out.

We went out to the Kroger one mile from home—our first time out in the car since Thursday. Some water was on the main road, and pretty deep the direction we weren’t going. But we got what we needed—except eggs, which were not to be found. No bread or water on the shelves, but we have enough at home, and we covered the rest of my weekly grocery list. People were orderly and cheerful, including our checker, who was uncertain whether she would have to evacuate later today.

We’re about five miles north of the Addicks-Barker Reservoir area. And our elevation is just above the top of the levee. I think we’re going to ride this out without damage. We’ve had power the whole time (except for a couple of momentary blips this evening). A tornado touched down about five miles west on Saturday, but tornado alerts are much fewer now.

Tornado Saturday in Cypress
photo from here

Social media has been very helpful. We’ve been able to check in on one another, and get word out that we’re safe. We’ve been able to share photos and information.

It is touching how many people are sincerely praying for us here. People have called and texted to check in on us. Our church does that; we try to make sure everyone is accounted for and needs are assessed. And once that is settled, the next question is, “How can we help?” We’re organized that way. But, really, all of Houston has developed that attitude.

Thank you if you are praying. Thank you if you are looking for ways to help. I’m sure there will be the need for help with recovery for some time to come.

Someone posted a comparison to Charlottesville, or Berkeley, saying that Houston, with people rescuing one another, is the real America. It’s full of love and caring. And we can feel God’s spirit with us as we get through this unprecedented disaster.

SWAT team member rescues woman and her 13-month old
photo found here

As Houston Mayor Sylvester Turner pointed out, even in this dire situation, people have maintained their sense of humor.

Here’s one example.

I found this on Facebook, but it may have come from here.

And here's another:

I found this on Facebook, but I don't know who to credit.

Again, we personally are among the blessed ones still safe and dry at home, for which we are grateful. We are mindful of our many friends and neighbors who will have some big challenges rebuilding their lives after the rain finally stops. Please keep the prayers coming.

Community Service Is Better Than Community Organizing

Brandon Darby with Cathering Engelbrecht

Last night I went to hear a Q&A session with Brandon Darby, a reformed liberal activist. His conversion is fairly recent (since Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans, which was 2005), so I wanted to hear his story. Being a man of action, right after the NO devastation, he went there to start giving aid—not money aid, but physical help. He and friends put out a thousand flyers saying, “if you’re in need of help or want to help, call” his phone number. And then they would go and help people muck out their places. In the two years he did this project, he had more than 22,000 volunteers go through his organization. 

[I personally know dozens of people who did similar mucking out. Our church sent work crews with tools and chainsaws for weeks—then working on closer devastation that resulted from Rita two weeks later. It was amazing, really, to see how much people wanted to help—an attitude that was repeated in 2008 following Ike. My personal belief is that when God wants people to show love to one another in the Gulf Coast, he sends a hurricane. I’m hoping we can do it without that message for a few more years.] 

people from my church helping doing hurricane relief in 2005

Brandon Darby started getting calls from various organizations offering to join with him to help. Mostly he was inviting all comers. But then frustrations started to turn up. Volunteers would come for a few days, maybe up to a week, taking time off from paid work to do this volunteer work, and the organizations that came to set up under him would insist these volunteers needed training first—on how to be racially and culturally sensitive. Really? Someone gives up a week’s pay and time to physically labor for complete strangers, and you think they need a three-day lecture before they’re allowed to help? So Brandon spoke up against that. The response was that they didn’t like the idea of a white patriarchal male telling them how things should be done. 

Up until this point he had bought in to the narrative that liberals care for people and conservatives are selfish and just look out for themselves. But that wasn’t what he was seeing. He met many people who functioned outside of the organizations who claimed to be in it for the poor—people who were simply non-political. They didn’t want to talk to Brandon about his beliefs, but they were willing to work with him if he could show them where help was needed. 

On the other hand, the so-called helping organizations had a specific agenda, of “community organizing,” in the Saul Alinsky/Obama sense. Their purpose was to gather more people into their organizations and indoctrinate them with their political beliefs—and helping people was not the end in itself, but the means to that other end. I think the term he used for these groups within groups connected to other groups was “the non-profit industrial complex.” 

His personal story is made for a movie or adventure novel. Because of his close ties to radicals over the years, even as he was changing, these friends came to him with the assumption that he was with them, sometimes with dangerous and diabolical plans. Eventually he ended up helping the FBI thwart terrorist attacks, including one intended for the GOP convention in 2008. He has gotten no end of grief for working with the FBI. Finally Andrew Breitbart came to him and said, “Why don’t you tell your story? Why don’t you defend yourself?” And he told him, “I do. They won’t print it.” So, by doing an end run around mainstream media, Breitbart helped him get his own story out. 

Darby admits that it was hard going to the FBI in the beginning, because he had bought the narrative that they were the evil villain US version of the KGB. But he got some good guidance from a friend who said, “Don’t tell me any more; you’ve got to contact the FBI.” And he knew he had to, or many innocent people would be killed. He added, “If you had any idea how many times you’re saved from being blown up, you’d feel a lot better about the FBI.” And he said he knows them now, not as a big brother government agency, but as many men and women trying every day to do a difficult and dangerous job. 

The stated goal of the radicals, he said, was to do anything within their power to thwart the Constitutional rights of opposing views from being expressed. Brandon Darby himself loves his country and loves the Constitution—totally turned around from where he had once been. 

The next question becomes, what can we do? He recommends serving. Go directly to the people who are being manipulated and “organized” by the enemy, and work with them, physically giving them a hand, and giving them face-to-face contact with you—so you become human to them. Then they can no longer believe the lies against you, because you have become real to them. 

I’m not sure exactly how we will fit this in our daily lives. I know my church is very good at rendering service and makes that a priority, which does build the trusting relationships he is suggesting. So it works. But doing it in the neighborhoods he says need it might take the protection of some organization, rather than just an individual showing up on the street. I’m hoping we will learn more. As a call to action, he suggests:

• Talk to people in need.
• Find out who helps them (as opposed to self-appointed black community leaders claiming to be who to go through).
• Dig deeper.

I don’t fully understand all that means, for individuals whose lives are full with work and family. But I do indeed trust that people-to-people is the way to help, and not political leaders garnering government payola. Our political freedom, our economic freedom, and our civilization depend on our willingness to help one another freely.

The session with Brandon Darby was streamed live, and will soon be available for online viewing at King Street Patriots, under King Street Live.