Watching the news coverage of the Afghanistan evacuation was crushing my morale. The inability to effectively evacuate American citizens coupled with the callousness displayed toward our Afghan partners filled me with disgust for our senior leadership.
As a Marine, I served a tour in Afghanistan and worked with Afghan Commandos to help stand up a training battalion. I met good men from the Afghan National Army who had hope for their country and their future. We made plans for developing the capability of the Afghan Commandos, we broke bread and shared stories about our families.
I could not imagine abandoning them. But, I am retired now and I cannot raise my hand and say “send me” any more. I felt helpless and embarrassed by our moral failings.
Then hurricane Ida hit Louisiana. Here in Jacksonville, NC, we are no stranger to hurricanes. The media coverage was sparse. I reached out to my network on Facebook to ask how people had fared. My friend responded with a call for help on Friday night. The small fishing villages south of the city were decimated. His VFW post was running supplies in by boat and he needed non-perishable food, lanterns, headlamps, and batteries.
This felt like a call to action for me. I cannot help my friends in Afghanistan, but by God, I could do something about this!
I reached out to a local friend with a truck and we made a Facebook fundraising page that evening. We sprang into action. Raising money, developing a strategy, planning routes, and preparing equipment.
Saturday morning we did a mad whirlwind of shopping at Walmart and Sam's Club, filling a truck and a box trailer with dry goods and other necessary supplies. We packed our bags, brought extra gas, and left by noon. We used a rapid planning process to flesh out the mission and within 24 hours we were on the road. We raised 3100 dollars and spent every dime on supplies.
We received word through the Facebook network that a church in Caldera Alabama had 50 disaster relief boxes available. We routed through Caldera and picked up everything that would fit. We rolled into New Orleans on Sunday and dropped the supplies with the good men of VFW post 8973.
This is where the story gets interesting.
They told us about an Afghan native they met the day before while they were coordinating with the VFW post of a ravished area. He was volunteering with disaster relief in a little fishing village called Lafitte, south of New Orleans. He had worked with the U.S. Army as an interpreter and received one of the special visas to come to the United States.
He helped to remove the tattered wind torn, American Flag from the VFW post in Lafitte during a solemn ceremony folding the flag carefully and with great respect. My heart swelled with emotions when I saw the video.
We felt helpless about what was happening to our partner force in Afghanistan, but instead of wallowing in our pain, we planned and executed a mission to help Americans in the aftermath of a hurricane only to find an Afghan refugee volunteering to help Americans in need.
In today’s caldron of negative messaging about the true nature of this country, I would ask you to consider the beauty that is the American way of life. Two men heard a call to action. This is a story of American determination and spirit of helpfulness. Our country is filled with good people who when called to action will step up to help each other.
And despite what the media likes to portray, our acceptance of anyone who comes here through the legal channels makes us unique through out the world. New Orleans is an example of a racial mixing pot, many backgrounds, colors, nationalities, but all Americans. Americans who are in trouble.
One person can make a difference. Two people can change the direction of things. When we remember that we are all Americans, we are unstoppable. This is my America. We stand together, united as a people, and we can overcome anything.
