4 hours

They were able to save the photo albums from the 50's.... the albums themselves a little warped and stained but most of the photos in tact.  That's pretty impressive considering the 25 foot by 50 foot "pile" of trash that was nearly as tall as the rancher itself. 

"Where to begin" is always the hardest part of anything.  Do we begin with the drive through the neighborhood?  Houses spray painted with letters and markings to tell you the basics.  Is there electricity?  Gas?  Water?  The yellow and black demolition signs were awful.  Nearly every house on some blocks have them.  Piles of debris larger than cars were in most yards... mattresses, furniture, clothing, toys... 40 yard dumpsters at the top of streets overflowing with more piles of personal possessions  surrounding them. 

The first house on our list was condemned and no one was there.  We went next door and found a completely overwhelmed couple in their late 60's. He was in the back yard meandering around and she was in what was left of her kitchen trying to figure out what to do.  The carpets had been ripped out the day before and packing boxes and cleaning supplies were left for them.  All their clothing was dripping wet in 20 or so plastic bags out in the back yard.  There were few pieces of savable furniture and about a dozen already packed boxes.

At first they said there was nothing we could do to help them.  "It's all just a mess."  We told them we'd try our best to help anyway.  I went into the kitchen and asked her again what I could do.  "Nothing.  There's nothing left.  Nothing to do."  I quietly grabbed a box and some pots and started packing, eyeing, but not yet able to pack the deep square corningware roaster just like the one my mother used to have.

Less than 20 minutes later the kitchen countertops were cleared and I found out that the straw covering the backyard was courtesy of Sandy and needed to be cleared away.  Underneath it all somewhere was a patio of gray 4x8 pavers.  We started in the back corner and found a hot tub.  Unburied their paddleboat which was upside down in the middle of the yard.  Slowly uncovered the pier.  There was a complete, packaged grocery store rotisserie chicken on the pier.  The smell was... is still in my nose.... God awful in the worst way.  Imagine a 13 day old, sitting in the sun, rain, snow, sea water soaked, plastic encased rotisserie chicken.

A male and female mallard swam up to the pier and started talking with us at that point.  Within a half hour 2 more couples and a single female joined them.  Swimming around and laughing as we bagged up the mess.

Half of a plastic drinking pitcher.  A kid's plastic blue shovel.  Bright pink frisby.  Someone's Blue Cross Blue Shield paperwork from two towns away.  Dvds: White Christmas, Grease 2, Gilligan's Island, We Bought a Zoo, and one more that I can't remember right now.  A squeeze bottle of grape jelly.  Massive pilings.  Still that smell.  Not even just the chicken but the rotting wet sea grasses a foot deep.  Photos, nothing very personal but someone's photos.  Pieces of things.  Plastic hunks of stuff.  Unrecognizable remnants of people's lives.  A lady bug.

"It's only stuff," she said choking a little on the words after I complimented her gorgeous granite counter tops.  Those can be saved she was told.  The deep freezer, her laundry machines, all her kitchen appliances... gone.

We found a barbecue cover.  We found the dock.  We found half a rhododendron.  Under the straw and plastic bags of dripping clothing we found 3 bean plants still green and holding firm in the ground.  Another lady bug.  We started shoveling up the inch and a half of thick dark mud.  Somewhere, under all the muck, in the center of the yard in pavers is an eagle.  A custom piece their son did years ago.  We could see the outline of the circular area but nothing else through the mud.  That's a job for a power washer on another day.

Four hours and approximately 45+ Hefty Husky Contractor bags later the yard was looking good.  A yard again.  Some of the mud and water was already drying and you could already see what a lovely space it once was and will be again. 

The front yard was another story.  Or, more accurately, told the story.  The front yard reminded me as we drove off that our day there was done but this couple, along with all of their neighbors, were far from seeing the end of this.  Their whole lives sat in bags and pieces in their front yards.  I don't understand how waste management is going to deal with this.  I don't know how long it will take just to get the trash and debris out of the way and out of sight so that rebuilding can begin. 

Every once in a while I get a whiff of that smell still. 

I'd like to think we made a bit of difference for that couple today.  I feel like it wasn’t enough.  It probably won’t ever feel like it’s enough.  I’m on empathy overload and have reignited faith in mankind.