« 'My' Katrina survivor arrives in R.I.; MSNBC: How Bush Blew It; How bin Laden got away; Red Cross needs 40k volunteers | Main | Memo: Chertoff delayed federal response; Day two: A space between lives; New Orleans in Exile? »

September 12, 2005

Day one of a Katrina survivor's new life in R.I.

Bob Fabrizio's first day back in Rhode Island after Katrina was exhausting, for all of us. (He arrived late last night from New Orleans after a week's detour in a Corpus Christi, Texas, shelter.) Here's the short version.

When my husband woke early, he couldn't find Bob. The new rollaway bed we bought Sunday was unused, and Joe thought he had left. But Bob was sitting on a glider in the yard, drinking coffee, still outdoors after a night on a couch on our screen porch

I had arranged to take today off last week, a happy coincidence. Shortly before noon I drove Bob to the Red Cross office in Providence, a book tucked in my purse, prepared to wait. We parked behind a pickup truck with Louisiana plates and the name of a dealer in Mobile, Ala. on its bumper.

Bob emerged quickly, saying that so many people were showing up they were assigning appointments, and he was to return at 2 p.m.

It seemed a good time to take him to lunch -- it's his birthday, and he had mightily missed Rhode Island Italian food in the South. His choices at a Federal Hill eatery: Little necks, and pasta Bolognese (spaghetti with meat sauce). Also on his short list, for another time, are a cheeseburger grilled over real charcoal, stuffies (giant clams called quahogs, filled with chopped clams, clam juice and stuffing and baked) and clamcakes (deep fried clam fritters).

By 2 o'clock, we were back at the Red Cross office, and after about 45 minutes Bob came out carrying a sheaf of papers and a plastic carrying case full of toiletries (and I saw some gummy bears, too) marked "CVS" (the drugstore chain that had donated the supplies). They gave him a check for $360 and another for a two-week stay at a Pawtucket motel. When he thanked them for all their help, he said, they told him, "It makes us feel good to be helping you folks out, so thank you."

After a stop at Citizens Bank to cash the check, he said, "The teller wanted to know the whole story. She was great." The same curiosity would emerge later at the motel. Bob was surprised at everyone's interest, and goodwill. He doesn't yet realize how much their experiences affected us, the outpouring of empathy: This could happen to me.

It was an unseasonably hot September day. We went back to the house to regroup. My daughter and her son, fresh from school, joined us on the porch in front of a fan. She went online to finish up some Web-design work. (Our little home wi-fi network makes this easy.) I went online to get Pawtucket addresses for other agencies Bob needed to see. The boy did homework. Bob did laundry. My husband Joe went out for charcoal and beer for a barbecue. (The cheeseburger wish would be fulfilled next.)

After the disruption of the last few weeks, Bob was part of normal family life.

Later, I drove him to the motel to check in, and check it out. It's a normal economy room with a bed, a big TV, a dresser and an armchair. No refrigerator or microwave oven, though. And although he was issued food stamps in Texas, you can't use them for cooked food.

On the way home, we stopped to buy a styrofoam cooler. As the burgers grilled, I made a pot of coffee and iced it, and gathered paper cups, cutlery and plates to send back to the motel with him. We packed ice, leftover pasta, and coffee for morning. He chose a book from my bathroom library. These would get him through the night.

After fine burgers, were all exhausted from the heat and the late night. As I put the little one to bed, Joe drove Bob to the motel.

A lot lies ahead for him. In the shelter, an eye exam revealed cataracts. When I met him at the airport, I saw him and smiled, but he didn't notice me till I was a couple of feet from him. There's a trip to the Veterans Hospital in his future, both for an eye operation and to refill medication for heart and lung problems; to Social Security to change his address; to the library to get a card. There's likely more, but these are first.

After he can see well again, he'd like to learn how to use a computer so he can see for himself this Web I talk about. He'd like a small apartment in Pawtucket or Providence eventually, but looking for that can wait a bit.

Tonight, Bob just wants to close his motel door and be alone for the first time in weeks, to think about what's happened, and about the new life that began today, on his 59th birthday.

Posted by Sheila Lennon  at 11:10 PM | Permalink

Comments

Posted by: Mike Moffitt on September 13, 2005 8:56 AM