Katrina and the Kindergartner

By Tim Wenzl

There are always jitters when a kindergartner walks into school for the first time. Conor Casey will go through that situation a number of times as his first year of school will be spent in at least four different kindergarten classrooms.

Conor, age 5, is one of the children displaced, albeit for only awhile, by Hurricane Katrina. He started kindergarten in Gulfport, Miss., on Aug. 4. Later that month his school was reduced to rubble. His family evacuated before the hurricane hit and now he and his two younger brothers are having a "sleep over" at their grandparents house in Dodge City.

Conor started kindergarten for the second time at a public school and a third time when he switched to Sacred Heart Cathedral School on Sept. 12. It may be months before his family returns to Mississippi, but when he does, he will walk into his fourth kindergarten classroom.

This will be a year that Conor remembers throughout his life. One can only imagine the fear a young child experiences when leaving home to escape an advancing hurricane. And then having to say goodbye to his father who had to stay because he is in the Navy and his country needed him. And then there was that long uncertain drive with just he, his brothers, his mother and their bassethound, Max.

But perhaps later in his life, he will remind his brothers of the flock of angels they encountered in Rayville, Louisiana. There was that scary time when his mother had to stop for gas late one night only to learn from another motorist that the proprietor was only accepting cash. She told the motorist she was hoping to use her debit card because she only had $7 in cash and needed that to feed the kids. She asked about the nearest ATM and the motorist went into the station to inquire. When he returned he handed her a $50 receipt for her gas and said, "Here, I have it and you need it." When she asked his name he just said, "I don’t have a name."

But that same night the motorist saw a sheriff’s deputy he knew in the station and he told him there was a mother with three young kids out there who had been driving long hours and who were tired and hungry. The deputy, Billy Clay, called around to all the motels within 50 miles to find them a place to stay. And when there were no rooms, he took the family home where his wife, Tammy, made them a hot meal. When the deptuy’s wife discovered one of the kids had a bad cold, she called her friend, Donna Jones, who was a nurse who came to the house with some medicine for the remainder of the trip. And the nurse’s brother was a truck driver who knew the best route with the least traffic and the most gas stations. And that is when they understood that someone was watching over them and things were going to be all right.

Perhaps the fondest memories Conor will share with his brothers, Sean and Christopher, will be about that "sleep over" at their grandparents that lasted for months. And maybe years from now someone will mention "Dodge City" and Conor can say proudly, "I lived in Dodge City once."

By David Myers

Suggest Scott Faulkner is a lucky man, and he’ll tell you in his Louisiana accent: "It ain’t luck; it’s the good Lord."

It was the good Lord, he said, who helped him survive hours swimming through his flooded neighborhood amid hurricane force winds; it was the good Lord who helped him survive four days on a roof top without food; and it was the good Lord who sent an ice chest floating by that provided a boat for his beloved 17-year-old pooch, Sonny.

And it most certainly was the good Lord who sent a hearty band of volunteer helpers from Dodge City (see the article on Page 3) to San Antonio, where they found a bedraggled man and his little dog, and invited him to move from the Jewel of the South to the Queen of the Cowtowns.

On Sept 22, under a deep blue Kansas sky, two children played outside Faulkner’s Dodge City apartment complex, while seated on the steps to his door were Jude Hessman, Gemma Mills, and Molly Watson, daughters and granddaughter respectively of Bob and Ruth Hessman, all of whom have been helping Faulkner get situated since his arrival.

Faulkner, a burly 43-year-old, pulled up in a car loaned free to him from Greg Goff of G&G Motors from his job as an electrician he was offered just hours after his arrival in Dodge City. Faulkner saw the trio on his steps and a broad grin stretched across his face. Inside his apartment, which has been loaned free to him temperarily by Fred and Linda Casterline, he described his ordeal.

"The eye went over us on the west-side," he explained as Sonny, his 17-year-old eyes fogged over with age, chomped on a doggy treat nearby. "We had 170-mile-an-hour winds for eight hours."

During the brief respite that came with the arrival of the hurricane’s eye, Faulkner peered out his door and was surprised to find no damage to the neighborhood, so he decided it would be a good time for some sleep. That’s when the levies gave way, and the Gulf of Mexico came crashing inland.

"The good Lord was looking out for me," he said. "Five minutes later the phone rang and woke me. Water was coming through the crack in the door. In five minutes the water had risen four feet. In 20 minutes it was up to the roof. I couldn’t get the door open, so I had to kick out the window and swim to the roof."

His sister Tammy, with whom he shared their house — located in St. Bernard Parish, the area hardest hit — had already sought shelter farther north. Faulkner had stayed behind, he said, partially because of his job as electrician. He also admitted that having lived amid the violence of New Orleans, it would take more than a hurricane to scare him.

Faulkner tucked Sonny under his arm, and with a friend who had been staying with him at the time, swam in hurricane force winds to get to his cousin’s house where a boat was waiting.

"After a few minutes, the boat sank," Faulkner said, shaking his head. "We found life-preservers, and that saved our lives. We saw an ice chest, so I put Sonny in it and we floated for six or seven hours, hanging onto trees."

The three eventually found a two-story house where, after three or four hours, a police rescue team pulled up in a boat. They loaded Faulkner’s friend onboard, but when came Faulkner’s turn, they refused to take Sonny.

"They started cursing me and said, if you want to die, stay there. I won’t tell you what I told them. Finally a boat came along and took us to the top of a school."

For four days he and several others lived on rain water. Rescue workers would only take those without pets, leaving a handful of people and their pets on the school building.

"Helicopters were all over but wouldn’t pick us up," he said. "Finally I went into the school and got an American flag and started waving it. The first helicopter that saw me, he came and picked us up. I swear it was because of the flag."

Eventually Faulkner was taken to a large shelter in San Antonio.

"There’s not enough praise I can give to the people of San Antonio," he said. "All of Texas opened their arms to us."

And that’s where some good ol’ Kansas compassion came in. Larry Taylor was one of five Dodge City residents volunteering in San Antonio; others in the group included Brian "Yogi" Johnson, Hessman, Kenny Burkhart, Larry Taylor and Loren Pollock.

"Loren asked me how I was doing and if I’d like to come to Kansas," Faulkner said, smiling.

A few days later Faulkner was living in the Thunderbird Hotel in Dodge City, courtesy of owners Stan and Donna Ralya. The couple put Faulkner and Sonny up free of charge for nearly 10 days, filling his fridge and providing a few cookouts.

"He’s a very kind-hearted person," Stan said, echoing the comments of Mills and Hessman -- and anyone else who meets Faulkner. "My impression was that he is a go-getter. He was very grateful and appreciative, and his focus was, ‘I’ve got to get on my feet as soon as possible,’ and that’s what he did."

After his difficult adventure, Faulkner found himself humbled by Donna, who is Laotian, and who described to him her escape from Laos in the mid-1970s.

"She went through more than I ever went through," Faulkner said.

Within hours of arriving at the Thunderbird, Stan contacted a friend, Billy Stover, owner of Stover Electric, who, after interviewing Faulkner, offered him a job.

Margaret Hamilton of Sunflower Bank set up an account for Faulkner, and has asked that anyone who would like to make monetary or material donations bring them to the Dodge City office. Bank staff have donated several appliances.

"We sent out an email to all employees, and they have been responding in an awesome way," said Hamilton, who offered Faulkner a painting of an Indian woman that was in her office.

Faulkner’s mother, who died four months ago, was part Native American. When he expressed his deep sadness that he had lost all the photos of his mother, it was Hamilton who suggested he ask an aunt or uncle for a photo, bringing another in a long line of wide grins to his face.

Meanwhile, Hessman and Mills began working to get Faulkner the nearly $2,500 in aid promised by FEMA and Red Cross – but as of yet undelivered. They attended to many of his needs, stocked his fridge and got him medical attention for an ear infection.

"Miss Gemma’s a saint, all of them are," Faulkner said. "They are the most awesome people.

"The good Lord has blessed me."

Local group puts faith to work in San Antonio

By Tim Wenzl

The vivid scenes of the devastation caused by Hurricane Katrina and the need to relocate evacuees prompted two Dodge Citians to action, which led to the involvement of many others.

On Sept. 2 Brian Johnson, owner of Double J Transport of Dodge City, was watching news reports of the evacuation of New Orleans with Jude Hessman, his office manager.

"We were watching television and Brian turned to me and said, ‘you know we just can’t sit here,’" as Hessman recalled the conversation. "Then I said, ‘I’m going, I don’t know what they need, but I’m going.’ Brian then asked me to check into what we could do."

After checking with the American Red Cross and the Federal Emergency Management Agency, Hessman was informed that there was a need for buses and drivers to pick up evacuees that were being flown into San Antonio and transport them to area shelters.

Hessman then called Kenny Burkhart with First Class Charters who had two buses he wanted to take to San Antonio. With buses at the ready, Hessman called her daughter, Molly Watson at N.R.G. radio group in Dodge City. The staff cut a public service announcement in hope of reaching two more drivers.

They did. After the the PSA ran once, the station got a call from Loren Pollock of Healy who said he and his friend Larry Taylor of Scott City were willing to drive. The staff at the station telephoned their client list for donations to transport to San Antonio and to find a drop-site.

Gary Stein of Best Water offered his business as a collection point for the donations. Stein donated pallets of drinking water and stayed open until 10 p.m. accepting donations of non-perishable food, blankets and anything people thought the evacuees would need. The luggage compartment of the largest bus was filled with donations.

On Sept. 3 at 4 a.m., Johnson, Hessman, Burkhart, Pollock and Taylor left Dodge City with two buses on a 14 hour trip to San Antonio. Destination: Kelly USA, a former Air Force Base.

"We arrived at Kelly around midnight on Sept. 3," Hessman said. "We were immediately pressed into service lining up with almost 100 other buses. There were local buses, tour buses, buses from Florida, Texas, Misssissippi, New Mexico, and other states. Bus Bank, a company that manages large events, was contracted to coordinate the transportation efforts.

"As planes would fly into Kelly the evacuees would get right on buses and go to a main processing center on the base where they were given an i.d. wrist band, assigned a p.o. box and assigned to a shelter. We would take them to the shelters around the city. These were people that had been literally plucked off roof tops in New Orleans and taken to Baton Rouge where they were put on a plane to San Antonio. When they would get on the bus, no one would say a word. The adults and the children just sat there in silence as we drove through the city.

"The hardest part of our trip was the days when we transported passengers directly from the tarmac to the central processing building on the base. These people hadn’t eaten for days, except crackers, snack bars and water that they received on the planes. They were hungry, dirty, exhausted, thirsty and so lost. We are affected most by these ‘first faces’ of this tragedy.

"The buses ran 24 hours a day. Our crew was on 12-hour shifts. We were relieved to find out that we would not be sleeping on board in shifts as we had planned. They put us up at a nearby Howard Johnson’s. The rooms and free cab fare was the beginning of the hospitality offered all the bus drivers in San Antonio.

"Pulling all of this together as fast as they did, San Antonio did a killer job. They had 10,000 people fly into their city in three days. They were so nice to every one, not only the evacuees but all the volunteers."

The crew from Dodge City spent a week in San Antonio. After transporting evacuees from the air force base to shelters, the buses were used to transport the evacuees around the city. One of the shelters included a 24-hour pharmacy where people could get medicines.

"We couldn’t believe that our smiles and open arms would make a difference," said Hessman. "We met old people, small children, and men and women our own age who wanted nothing more than to hold onto us and cry. It was heartbreaking but we felt that we were helping. It was a life time experience, but I hope I don’t have to repeat it."