All of God's creatures, except for the devastated human survivors, were gone. "The only sound you could hear was a chain saw now and then in the distance," said Eric Gnau. "Nothing was alive - not a bird, not a bug, not a snake."

A 34-foot storm surge from Category 4 Katrina smashed into this town on Aug. 29. For nearly a mile, buildings were splintered, broken into maybe eight-foot pieces at a maximum and piled north of the railroad tracks that run parallel to the ocean.

Among the destroyed buildings was St. Patrick's Episcopal Church. This isn't the first time the 200-member church has experienced the wrath of a storm. Hurricane Camille with its 200-mph winds destroyed the church on Aug. 19, 1969.

But this is the first time that St. Patrick's and Long Beach have experienced the outpouring of love and compassion from Beaufort residents. About 30 St. Helena parishioners joined another 100 people from Beaufort to travel to the town as a person-to-person, church-to-church, town-to-town mission to help people recover.

While the St. Helena team left an impression of one kind on St. Patrick's parishioners and Long Beach residents, the folks back home made another impression. Monetary contributions were overwhelming to the Rev. David Knight, St. Patrick's rector. He broke down into tears when the Rev. Jeff Miller, St. Helena's rector, told him of the $25,000 the church had raised as of September 10. By October 5, the St. Helena's relief fund destined for the adopted congregation was $104,000. And it will probably continue to grow, according to the Rev. Miller.

The Rev. Miller states, "We at St. Helena's remember the Apostle Paul's words that 'when one part of the body suffers, the whole body suffers with it.' We offer this love offering for the love of the saints. It is important to remember that we do this in the name of Jesus Christ, for the sake of Jesus Christ, and to the Glory of Jesus Christ alone."

The overall team was led by Beaufort Mayor Bill Rauch and his wife Sara, who was seven months pregnant. They are members of St. Helena's. The St. Helena's team was led by Bob Cullen. "When I met Mayor Rauch, he asked me to organize the St. Helena's volunteers. Bill's strategy was to create volunteer centers through each church in Beaufort."

The group worked in some dangerous conditions, and St. Helena's team member Brad Neal returned to Beaufort with 90 stitches from a chainsaw cut.

"You can divide Long Beach into two areas -- the land south of the railroad tracks and the land north of the railroad tracks," Cullen said. "The South area was totally devastated --meaning that there was nothing but sticks and rubble. Roads and houses were unintelligible. There were no family heirlooms left. Occasionally you would see a girder sticking up from a concrete foundation.

"The conditions were barely tolerable. Temperatures during the day were over 100, and at night about 85. We slept in tents, and because of the heat, our bodies would stick to our sleeping bags," Cullen said.

"Most of the houses that we worked on had people trying to live in them. Houses were very modest -- small, old and almost always one level. When we arrived at a home site, the owners would come out and praise us for helping them. In almost every case, the homeowners insisted on giving us money that, of course, we could not accept. One family, who was unsuccessful in giving us money, prepared a 20-gallon pot of beans and rice, which is a Mississippi favorite dish. All of us had the beans and rice that night for dinner."

Cullen said he was given a "special privilege, as I was the coordinator and leader of our group." He met with the mayor and fire chief. "I got to know a lot of really great people, not only in our church, but also our community."

Cullen rounded up equipment from generous Beaufort businesses and individuals. Grayco, a local hardware store, donated six chain saws as well as oil and extra chains. A local wallpaper hanger donated his chain saw and ropes. A parishioner donated a brand-new chainsaw, just for the trip. Merchants donated bottled water and Gatorade. "The outpouring of generosity from out community was overwhelming," Cullen said.

Two parishioners, Boogie Tudor and Bo Mitchell, who are local contractors, took heavy equipment to Long Beach.

A retired couple who had felt helpless and frustrated when Katrina hit volunteered for the trip to Long Beach and put their skills to use. Another team member suffered through Hurricane Hugo in the Carolinas in September 1989 and felt compelled to offer help.

"The help was important because people are surrounded by chaos," said Neil Tisdale. "Their lives need to be put back in order before despair sets in. Seeing the teams out there lets the people know there is a light at the end of the tunnel."

Tisdale and Dr. Buddy Coleman tried to convince a couple sorting through pictures in their front yard to open their home to clear mold spores out. They were reluctant because of looters, but they were appreciative: "God bless you all for coming," they told the workers.

"We reciprocated and went back to clearing their yard. Our outreach to the community resulted in similar responses everywhere we went: 'God bless you for coming,'" Tisdale said. "It is important for people to realize that God is always there for them. We reminded the people of Long Beach of this important fact."

"We felt frustrated and helpless," said Amy York. "My husband and I participated in Red Cross training in Bluffton, but had not been called." They found a volunteer spot with Steve Brown Catering, the firm owned by a Baptist caterer, who would coordinate feeding the 130-man team plus additional people from Long Beach.

Together with Vola Whitcomb and others, the Yorks prepared thousands of breakfast and dinner meals and bag lunches.

"I didn't have time to think about why we were there, but in the down times and listening to the stories of those returning from the field, my heart was heavy. Prayer eased my anxiety as I was reassured of God's grace and mercy. We got hugs and thanks from people coming to the fire station for help. I think, in some way, they sensed God's presence.

"I went because Mayor Rauch's idea of adopting a town similar to ours was brilliant, focused and assured us that our volunteer and monetary contributions would make a difference, said Peter Payne of Dataw Island. "When Jeff Miller asked for volunteers, I never gave it a second thought. He was talking to me."

Payne experienced brotherhood, spiritual guidance and a sense of awe that people could endure so much.

He said that one among many vivid memories was "knocking on the door of a middle-age Vietnamese couple's home in a modest neighborhood to ask if we could clear their property of fallen trees and debris. Frightened, they said: 'No money.' We finally convinced them we were volunteers and wanted no money for helping. He said, 'Why?' We said, 'Because we love you.' He and his wife stood side-by-side, holding hands, weeping as we sawed and cleared. We were ministered to."

Parishioners went for different reasons, and most of them had a personal connection.

Len Conapinski worked in the kitchen and was a member of the chainsaw brigade. He went because "Eight years ago our son Leonard was a freshman at Notre Dame. His first summer break was spent living in a homeless shelter in Wilmington, Del. My wife Susan and I really thought we were contributing time, money, etc. to charitable needs, but Leonard was giving more of himself and it was a wake up call for us. You could only understand people's needs if you were with them in the trenches. Lesson learned: Go where the problem is, do something, and stay involved until completion.

"Then you wonder how long will it take. It'll never be normal again and you need to have a strong constitution and beliefs," Conapinski said.

Tom Hetherington went because he developed a relationship with Long Beach when he lived there 13 years ago. He and his wife have friends there. "Some lost their homes, businesses were flooded, roofs damaged, children without schools to return to. The apartment complex that I lived in is no longer standing. I felt it was the least I could do. "I am sure, like most people who made the trip, it was not about us and some good deed. It was about people in need. It was about lending a hand when others are down. And at some level we all knew that it could have been us."

"I have been through hurricanes all my life, growing up as a boy on the coast of North Carolina," said Gnau. "My first recollection of one was when we were chased from our home by Hazel in 1956. Since then I have seen little ones and big ones on the Carolina coast but I have never seen and in fact couldn't have imagined what I was to see in Long Beach."

"I also saw something else in Long Beach. I saw hundreds of strangers in trucks and cars and vans with license plates from North Carolina and South Carolina and Georgia and Arkansas and Florida and Oklahoma and Texas and Illinois and New Mexico and even California. They brought food and water and clothes. They brought chainsaws and bulldozers. They brought gasoline. They brought Bibles. And they brought love and hope. All this to people they didn't know and had never seen before. It didn't matter. Waves of people were coming and going.

As we arrived, some were leaving, and as we left, others were coming in. All came with the same message. We are here for you. The spirit of God was there, in these strangers. You could see it in their eyes."

--Mr. Cato is parishioner at St. Helena's in Beaufort and he is a journalist with the Beaufort Gazette in Beaufort, SC.

END