We Make Dirty Look Good: Day Three at CASA

Another morning in the garden...sigh.  It was so hot today, and in the sun it felt worse.  We told Lee about Manna House and we had a nice chat about it.  He told us, "The sad thing is, it's not just Huntsville.  This is going on in your hometowns and everywhere.  We're thankful you're here, but it's a nationwide problem."  It was definitely a reminder that we need to be bringing this service back home.  Sometimes the best thing you can do to change the world is to help out at home.

This morning involved more clean-up (weeding, raking, marking fire ant hills, etc.) and delivering tables from a party store.  Three of us went with Lee to get tables, while the other three did all the dirty work.  I gotta be honest, we didnt' do much out wiht Lee.  Mostly the buff Alabama men did all the lifting, but we offered moral support. And let me tell you, the ladies who stayed behind make dirty work look good.  We all joined in picking up sticks, filling in holes, basically fixing anything "your grandma might trip over."  This party will include lots of elderly folk, from CASA clients, to wealthy patrons, volunteers, and gardeneres, so it's important that we prepare for our elderly clientele who might not see so well or have great balance.

And that was a wrap for the garden this morning.

After that we went out to 8th Street, a very special place full of love. I was a little confused why we went there at first, because it's a house for disabled adults, and I did not sign up to volunteer at a disability site, but I quickly readjusted my focus to thinking about how the disabled age.  Think about it.  In schools we have special programs for the mentally handicapped.  We get them out of high school, and then what are they supposed to do in the world?  Some get jobs.  Some lucky ones go to college.  But lots live with their parents and struggle to find a place in the world all their lives, which in some cases can be quite long.

8th Street is a 6,000 square foot house where several people live with housekeeper.  All of them are adults with a variety of disabilities, but generally speaking, they all have IQs under 69.  Andrea runs the place.  She told us "They all have a variety of wonderful abilities, they just have different needs."  We were given a few quick, easy tasks to do, and then just welcomed to make ourselves at home and visit with the residents.

We began by organizing a storage closet and taking the unneeded things to a thrift store around the corner and harvesting their cabbages and making fresh flower bouquets.  Then we dusted the basement, but that only took until 3pm and we were supposed to be there until 5pm.  After Andrea left, we had a choice to make.  We could leave her a note and leave early, or we could stay and try to make friends with the residents.  We chose the latter, and I have to say it's been my favorite part of the trip so far.

First, we just watched Walker, Texas Ranger with Granny, Michael, Ira, and a few others.  Ira was a good time.  He was very cheerful, and loved cologne, so he smelled very strong, but nice.  He was wonderful encouragement when I was self-conscious about my wilty flower bouquet.  Granny was an adorable old woman who took pictures of us and showed us her new bed.  Michael needed help applying for a job, so Caroline helped him fill out an application to Wal-Mart, and we soon discovered how smart he really was.  We struck up some general conversation, and he mentioned they had a basketball hoop outside.  Seeing an opportunity, I said "Wanna play?" and we all went outside to play HORSE with Michael.  He was pretty good!  We had a ton of fun playing basketball with Michael.  We made fun of each other fondly, got some healthy competition going, and Michael taught us all the rules and kept score.  Afterwards we took a group photo, and Michael told us he had a facebook and we needed to tag him in it.  Guess I've got a new facebook friend!

We took a quick picture with John-John, the "Ladies' Man," who informed us about his cavortings at Wal-Mart and the Blue Plate Cafe, and then we had to say good-bye.  Everyone wanted us to come back again, but sadly, this is our only day at 8th Street.  I really wish we could come back to 8th Street.  It's a wonderful place.  They didn't really need us there as volunteers.  They take care of themselves.  They do their own cleaning and laundry, have jobs, and have free reign of the house and neighborhood, they just need a good support system.  We weren't there to take care of anybody, we were there to be their friends. And it's such a welcoming environment.  I've never felt so at home in anyone else's living room as I did at 8th Street.  The residents were totally lucid and conversational, you'd hardly know they had a mental disability.

Anyway, it's something to think about.  If all those special needs children in high school grow up and graduate, and their parents get older and die, what happens to them then?  They need a place live and some to support them.  With very little income and such great medical expenses, it's a real conundrum.  8th Street brings a group of special needs adults and combines their talents and fulfills their needs so that they have a family and can be more or less independent in old age. 

Ciao for now