I thank them and compliment their hospitality. They instantly know I’m not from around here. (Do you think it’s my accent?) They ask me why I’m here.

They both start thanking me. Erin holding back tears says, ``You haven’t forgotten about us. Please don’t forget about us.’’ Tears start to roll down her cheeks.

She is still waiting to hear if her house will be bulldozed or saved. She has an apartment near City Park (closer to the Grecos) where there is another tent city of volunteers. Her son goes to the same school as Joseph Greco.

``Both my children were glad to get back to school,’’ she says. ``The boys at Holy Cross (Joe’s school) were quite upset about their school being destroyed. It’s half the size now, and they were a close bunch.’’

Back at camp, I realize I fit right in with my hair frizzy, baseball cap on backwards, rolled up capris and tank top. New volunteers are asking me questions that I can answer! I give them the ``low-down, man.''

Here are photos near E.C.