Saturday 9:30AM:
The phone rings “Hi this is Jay” (the assistant pastor of our church) “Do you still have that small trailer?” he innocently inquired. “We need it for Hurricane relief efforts.”
“Sure!” I replied. “Where and when?”
“Just bring it to the church and we’ll work out the details.”

After about a half an hour, my 12’ enclosed trailer and I pulled up to the makeshift collection area on the west end of the church building. I looked at the pile of diapers, baby-food, femenie items and growing mountain of bottled water and commented to Jay, “we’re going to need a bigger boat!” He agreed.

“I was wondering if you were doing anything today and tomorrow?” “Nope” I replied. “Great!” he smiled
I’m going to U-Haul to rent the biggest thing they’ve got. Do you think you can drive something like a 26’ truck?” “Sure.” I said “Hey, what do we need to bring for donations?”
“Oh there’s a list of needs on the website. Just go from there.”

I got back in my truck and went home. As I walked in the front door, I noticed the number “7” flashing on the “New messages” counter of my answering machine. “That’s odd. Must be telemarketers or something.” I thought. I fired up Mozilla and went to the church’s website.

“Westwood is Organizing a relief trip to Biloxi Mississippi.
Here are the needed items:
Diapers (all sizes)
Diaper rash ointment
Baby Wipes
Baby Food
Bottled Water
Hand sanitizer
Paper Towels
Toilet Paper
Soap
Non-perishable foods
Snack foods/crackers
Batteries
Candles
Blankets
Air mattresses
Tooth brushes
Tooth paste
Deodorant
Feminine Products

If you want to help, please contact Tom (No_Key_Bandit) at (my home phone number).”

“Crap! He put me in charge!” I went to the answering machine and pressed “play”

“Tom. This is (name withheld). I’ll be glad to help. Just let me know what you need me to do”
“Hey Tom, this is (name withheld) I’ve got a generator that I can donate. If you need it, let me know. Thanks”
“Tom, I’ll be glad to go with you…”

All day long my phone was ringing off the hook. While I’m overjoyed at the outpouring af volunteers, I’m not happy at the thought of organizing a trip. I’m not an organizer, plus I really wanted to watch the Auburn game (shut up Fratberry!). Thankfully one of the calls was from a church member that was originally from the Biloxi area, knew the area well and was going to make the trip anyway. Also his wife is an organizer. I quickly asked her to take over the organization of this growing snowball.

1:15PM: I get a call from the new organizer. We do indeed have a 26’ vehicle reserved from U-Haul. It will be picked up Sunday morning after U-Haul opens by the organizer’s husband (they live closer than I do to the rental place) and it should be ready to go.

2:00PM:Place call to M.E.M.A. (Mississippi Emergency Management Agency) I am informed by a friendly, and professional sounding woman that all fuel south of Montgomery was non-existant. “You’ll have to bring it yourself. Thank you very much for volunteering. They really need the help down there.”

2:15PM: Placed call to U-Haul. After 27 rings, I was greeted by the droning “Pelham U-Haul. This is mumble mumble can I help you.”
“Yes. Our church just reserved a 26’ tru…” “HOLD PLEASE” she inturrupted.

2:35PM: “Pelham U-Haul.”
“Hi. My name is (personal information) Our church just reserved a 26’ vehicle and I was wondering what sort of range I could expect. ”
Dead silence.
“How far can I go on a tank of gas before I’ll have to fill up again?”
“I dunno.”
“OK how much gas does the vehicle take.”
“It’s a diesel.”
“All right. How much diesel does it take.”
“I’m not sure. I’ll have to check. Can you hold?”
“Sure I…” CLICK followed by recorded message“…call is very important to us. We here at U-Haul (blah blah blah)”

2:45PM: “According to the vehicle specs, it holds 50 gallons of fuel. At 10 miles per gallon, you should get 500 miles out of it.”
“Great! Thanks for your help!”
CLICK

Sunday 9:30AM:
I arrive at the church. A large group of volunteers is busily stacking the items into the U-Haul. I look inside. The odometer reads 227,577 miles. The fuel-guage reads half-full. The rental agreement confirms this. They just want it returned half-full. I also notice the 5-speed manual transmission, and the steering wheel that is about the size of a garbage-can lid. (for the uninformed, this is usually a sign of no power-steering).

11:15 AM: Truck is fully loaded. Prayers, well wishing and waves.

11:20 AM: I start the truck. I am greeted by the load roar of the engine, a few whines, and warning lights that go out except for the “low air-pressure on air suspension” light. This is not essential for the trip, but it does mean that this is gonna be a real bumpy ride.

We pull out, followed by our chase vehicle. It has some volunteers that will help unload our truck once we get to Biloxi and about 26 full cans of gasoline. It is also our ride home. The plan includes unloading the truck, driving to Montgomery and dropping the U-Haul off. Then we will pile in the chase vehicle and head back. This should eliminate the need to find and buy diesel.

12:00PM: We stop in Calera AL for food and fuel. We top off the half full U-Haul vehicle with 11.5 gallons of diesel.
Wait.
11.5 gallons?
After some quick math I conclude that 11.5 times 2 does not equal 50.
I consult the owners manual and maintenance log.
“Vehicle is equipped with one 25 gallon fuel tank.”
I gasp.

“ONE! U-Haul told me 50 fucking gallons!”
I look at the shocked faces of the church volunteers and come to the realization that screaming profanities at the gas station probably was not the wisest thing to do.

Um… “50 ‘trucking’ gallons?”
Sorry.

We head back out on the road.

1:30PM: Mrs. Bandit points at my right shoe. “What’s that all over your shoe?”
I look down. Small black spots are spattered all over my right shoe and pants leg. I swipe some of it with my finger and smell it.
It’s oil.

1:35PM: We pull into the Chevron station of Pratville Al. I park and open the hood. The engine compartment is covered with oil. We despirately look for the source.
After a short search I notice a hole with two slots on with side of it marked “15W40 “ Only.
“The oil cap is missing”

I call U-Haul’s emergency service hotline and am greeted with the recording.
“This line is for emergency breakdowns only. Hang up now!” followed by a click.
Small pause.

“All of our operators are taking other calls. Please remain on the line.”

1:45PM: “mumble mumble mumble what is the nature of your emergency or breakdown”
“Hi—um—I’m um missing an oil cap for a—“
“mumble mumble I’m transferring you to a representative you will assist you. You are fourth in line Please hold mumble mumble”
click.

1:50PM:I explain my problem to Jose’.
Jose was the absolutely nicest, most professional person I spoke to at U-Haul.
He made sure no one was hurt, took down my information, made sure that he could reach me at the number I gave him. He also called me back periodically to give me progress on the mechanic and when we could expect him.

5:00PM: Dale’s 24 road service shows up.
Dale (I assume) departs his vehicle. Dale is forty-ish, unshaven and grumpy. He is sporting a filthy ball cap that probably has enough oil trapped in it to replace the oil that was lost in the vehicle. He is wearing an equally filthy work shirt with the sleeves rolled up. This, I assume, is to expose his tattoo. The words emblazoned on his bicep proudly proclaim “Beer’s fine but whiskey’s quicker!”
“Hi!” I say and wave.
He completely ignores me and goes to the U-Haul.

After a careful inspection of the engine he finally speaks through the Marlboro clenched between his lips, “D’jall put any awl in it?”
“No.” I reply.
Muffled curses follow as he stomps into the Chevron. He returns about two minutes later with a plastic container of 15W40 oil and fills the engine.
“We’re going to Biloxi.” I volunteer. “Hurricane relief supplies.”
Dale stops filling the engine and looks at me with a grin reminicent of the kid in middle school who just announced he was going to tell on you and get you in trouble.
“Ya ain’t gonna git far. Ain’t no gas ner diesel south of Mongomery.”
“We’ll manage somehow”

Dale finishes filling the engine, and checks the oil level while cackling to himself and shaking his head.
I sign papers for the oil, cap and labor.
“Thanks!” I yell as Dale gets back into his truck.
Dale continues to ignore us and speeds off, kicking up gravel as he goes.

10:30PM: After stopping for fuel three more times, (we found diesel twice south of Montgomery, I thought about phoning Dale to inform him of his error) we made it to Biloxi.

There are small pockets right next to I10 that have power, but they are few and far between.
Power lines trapped underneath fallen trees are everywhere.
As we weave our way through Biloxi I see cars lined up at dark gas stations. There is very little traffic. Mostly emergency vehicles, Utility trucks and some eighteen wheelers.
The intersections are difficult to recognize as the traffic lights and the lines that held them are completely gone; nowhere to be seen.

We finally get to the church distribution center. The Red Cross is using one section of the parking lot, and the Church is using the other. It’s a little difficult to tell what’s going on as the only light comes from a couple of generators and vehicle headlights. I’m a little worried as we have a bunch of stuff to unload and only five of us to unload it.
The Red Cross is very organized with two forklifts (powered by propane) to unload the supplies.
Unfortunately for us, none of our donations were on pallets; making the forklifts useless to us.
However, about ten Boy Scouts are standing around looking for something to do.
With a burst of youthful enthusiasm, the scouts go to work and neatly segregate and stack the contents of the truck.

11:05PM: Many thanks and well wishes from the Biloxi residents.
We head back on some more well-cleared back roads (I10 eastbound is blocked for a large chunk of Mississippi) and drop the U-Haul off in Montgomery.

Monday3:35AM:
Arrive back in Birmingham.

3:36AM: sound asleep.