April 6, 2018 at 1:53 p.m.
TROPICAL STORM DAMAGE
Catholic Charities still helping Irene and Lee victims
The program began this fall with a grant from New York State. Seven Catholic Charities caseworkers are assisting 95 clients in nine counties in the Diocese: answering questions, addressing unmet needs, helping clients navigate social services and referring them to "any resource we come across that we think people can use," said Walter Fosdick, supervisor of the program. Caseworkers even stood in line on behalf of a disabled man to inquire about financial assistance.
"I think people would be shocked at the amount of damage that's still out there," Mr. Fosdick said, describing houses with no running water; untouched debris; damaged appliances, foundations and roofs; and, in one case, a ceiling hole letting rain and squirrels into a house.
What's ahead
Caseworkers collaborate with community organizations and talk about long-term recovery efforts in areas that don't have them. Mr. Fosdick wants to get involved in preparedness, too.
"The world is changing," he noted. "It's December and it's balmy outside. We've had two 500-year floods, two years in a row."
The program concentrates on heating and food assistance, securing building supplies, connecting clients with skilled laborers and simply allowing people to talk.
Many storm victims "have been isolated, and they haven't had the opportunity to tell their story," said Sister Betsy VanDeusen, CSJ, one of the caseworkers. She's seen pockets of people "in terrible straits" along the Battenkill Creek. She said the case managers "offer some little glimmer of hope."
The grant, which covers salaries, digital scanners for field use and office supplies for the program, ends next August.
Their story
Alvin Mace heard warnings about Tropical Storm Irene 15 minutes before floodwaters battered Rotterdam Junction in August 2011. He had just enough time to evacuate his 75-year-old mother, Jean, and stash their cats and dogs on the second floor. Some of the hens in the backyard didn't survive.
The family - struggling financially even before the storm - lost Mr. Mace's shed full of power tools and his career woodworking supplies, in addition to furnaces, water heaters and wiring in their home and another house they own next door. Four to six feet of water in both houses wrecked the basements and first floors - and the Maces had recently installed oak flooring and cabinets.
"It was a nightmare. Everything was every which way," Ms. Mace remembered, describing the loss of photos, furniture, important papers, appliances, Christmas presents and more. "I was so devastated. I cried for days. I still feel it's going to be a very long road."
Sixteen months later, the house next door is coming along, with new walls, floors and appliances. Volunteers from St. Ambrose parish in Latham have been doing wiring and construction and hope to move Ms. Mace's granddaughter in by Christmas. The Flood Recovery Coalition for Schenectady County and FEMA have given financial aid.
What to do?
As for the Maces' own home, Mr. Mace and volunteers shoveled out the mud, but the floors, ceilings and walls are still unfinished. "At nighttime," Mr. Mace noted, "you can put your hand on the wall and literally feel cold air coming through."
There were some setbacks. For one thing, Mr. Mace installed Sheetrock before the town inspected the wiring, so he had to rip it out and start over again.
"There was a lot we didn't know that we had to do," Ms. Mace told The Evangelist. "There was a lot that we couldn't really handle."
The Maces' belongings have to be moved from room to room as work proceeds. Donated furniture is piled under a tarp outside. A lack of cabinets or countertops makes it hard to use the kitchen, though the recent addition of a utility sink has helped.
The Maces didn't have flood insurance. They have already spent more than $28,000 of their savings on repairs. FEMA's help went to the second house; the Flood Recovery Coalition is beginning to contribute toward materials for the first. Ms. Mace still works, but her part-time retail salary only scratches the surface of their other bills, including health insurance premiums.
Carol Fallon, the Maces' disaster case manager, has given them food cards, helped delay some of their bill payments and networked with organizations on their behalf.
"I don't think we'd get the resources as fast as she can," Mr. Mace said.
Trying their best
Ms. Fallon described her role as easy compared to caseworkers in counties without organized long-term recovery efforts: "They are starting from scratch, and I'm in a position where everything is put in place. It's been a long haul and this has been a great experience in that people have really banded together.
"But those losses, especially for seniors, have been very difficult. It's hard to hear their loss sometimes," she continued. "I guess it just really makes me realize how quickly things change in an instant."
Brett and Dian VanDerVolgen of Edinburg have their own set of storm damage to deal with: rotted floors and walls, a driveway that's become a tributary of a nearby creek, a polluted well and a yard full of debris. They heat their house with a wood stove and pray the toilet won't fall through the floor.
They've spent a few thousand dollars addressing some of this - they didn't have flood insurance, either - but they care more about preventing future disasters related to the creek, whose flood plain was altered by the storms. The couple lives on an acre between the Batchellerville and Batcheller Creek bridges.
Deep water
"To call it a creek is a misnomer," Mr. VanDerVolgen said. "It can be innocuous; it can also be a raging torrent."
He said the Department of Environmental Conservation told him that "if and when [the creek] reroutes...it will possibly take out three houses and kill commuters." He's spent months calling "everyone anyone can ever think of" to address the problem, only to be told work on the creek is a "personal property enhancement." His neighbor needs to approve the construction of a private dam.
"If we ever get more than four inches of rain, we're in big trouble," Mr. VanDerVolgen said. "We could die in our house. It's a ticking time bomb."
Mr. VanDerVolgen, 53, a former Capital Region disc jockey, suffers from spinal deterioration and kidney and eye problems and hasn't worked in five years. He can't get around without help, so he's hoped for "an angel.
Angelic aid
"I just pray constantly," he said. "When Catholic Charities called, I had my prayers answered. We're on the verge of losing everything I've ever struggled for. They're the only hope that I have at this point."
Catholic Charities is pursuing options for the family and others in similar straits, hoping for further aid. Sister Betsy, the VanDerVolgens' caseworker, has also consulted an environmental lawyer about the complex problem.
In the meantime, Catholic Charities is trying to find a storage solution for the couple and looking into getting Mr. VanDerVolgen a hospital bed.
"Everything that needs to be done with him will just take time," Mr. Fosdick noted.
Mr. VanDerVolgen said that "it seems like an eternity when you're facing down this nightmare."[[In-content Ad]]
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