What’s needed most in Hurricane Rita-ravaged Gulf Coast?

‘Prayer,’ says local liason to coastal parish

Nearly one year later, what is the greatest need for the Hurricane Rita-ravaged Gulf Coast and those who live there?

"Prayer," answered Tom Keenan, liaison between the Catholic Community of Great Bend and St. Eugene Parish in Grand Chenier, La., which is located two miles off the coast.

Rita made landfall Sept. 24, 2005, just weeks after Hurricane Katrina. The storm killed several people, and caused $10 billion in damages.

"The people are really stressed out," he said. "People are working 16-hour days. They’re still finding remains. It might be in a rice paddy, it might be any place. FEMA is doing DNA tests."

Keenan was asked by Father Reggie Urban, pastor of the Catholic Community of Great Bend, to serve as liaison between the two parishes after Keenan mentioned that he and his wife, Betty, had a daughter living in the Diocese of Lake Charles, in which St. Eugene Parish is located.

The Great Bend Catholic Community began taking collections for the parish one Sunday each month, and Keenan, a craftsman, began collecting wood working tools to take to the parish, which lost its Knights of Columbus Hall, rectory, and parish offices.

Six months after the hurricane struck, the Keenans visited St. Eugene Parish.

"The first thing I noticed was their little cemetery," he said. "They bury on top of the ground. They had a chain link fence around the cemetery, which caught a lot of debris."

When the severely weighted down fence pushed against the headstones, many detached from the concrete slabs covering the coffins, dislodging the coffins and allowing eight to be washed away, some of which have not yet been recovered.

The church, he said, was damaged, but not destroyed.

"Water came in the front door and blew the sides out," Keenan explained. "It took the pews, everything. It destroyed the baptismal font and took the altar stand, which was never found. The marble top is on cinder blocks."

Even while missing several walls, St. Eugene Church — which prior to the storm housed 300 families — continued to serve as a place of worship, the remaining walls and supports strong enough to hold the roof. Four blocks from the church is a life-sized statue of the Blessed Heart, which Keenan said never toppled during the storm. The church also serves as a food distribution point for FEMA.

Destroyed was a communal wood shop, owned by the church, which anyone from craftsmen to fishermen could use if they needed. "If you wanted shelves, you could come in and build them," he said. "If you wanted crab traps, you could build those, too."

Prior to visiting the Louisiana parish, Keenan put a request in the Great Bend parish bulletin for wood working tools, and the offers came pouring in.

"People called in with tools," he said. "And people gave money to buy tools. We went out to Orscheln, which is owned by a Catholic family, and they sold me a $500 compound miter saw and a very good shop vac for $400."

Besides delivering the much-needed tools, Tom and Betty Keenans’ week-long visit to St. Eugene’s included doing a lot of cleaning, he said.

"I did the squeegee and Father Vincent [Vadakkedath, pastor of St. Eugene’s] did the hose," Keenan said. "When I said something to him, he’d turn and fill my Hushpuppies up with water.

"He didn’t mean to," Keenan added, laughing.

Fifteen miles north of the church, one can begin to find entire cities made up of hundreds of FEMA trailer homes. In between are destroyed homes and businesses, miles of flattened and muddied landscapes, and the occasional pecan grove, rice field, and cattle farm.

People are working long hours, and are often traveling great distances for work. To finish out the school year, students were forced to travel five hours round-trip to a school in Lafayette.

Keenan said he hoped parishes in southwest Kansas would offer a Mass for the people of St. Eugene’s Sept. 24.

Despite the hardships, Keenan said the people of St. Eugene’s Parish remain relatively upbeat.

"You look at the congregation and they’re no different than here," he said. "Just like you and I." But at Mass, he said, "there’s more hugging going on than you ever thought about in Kansas."