Father William Norvell has nothing left but his faith and a little help from friends on dry ground.

“My church and my school were completely destroyed. My rectory and the convent were flooded with four feet of water. It’s terrible here,” said Father Norvell, pastor of St. Peter the Apostle, a mostly-black Catholic Church in Pascagoula, Miss.

Father Norvell spoke from the ruins of his rectory Sept. 16, while breathing mold spores and getting by without electricity or running water. The next day, Catholics 1,500 miles away at Denver’s mostly-black Cure d’Ars parish packed a truck with water, clothing, school desks, sewing machines, fabric, blankets and a host of other supplies for Father Norvell, his parishioners and others struggling to survive in Pascagoula.

Cure d’Ars had already sent a truck to a neighboring town the week before, and plans to send whatever it takes to ease the pain. This little church of some 400 families is in it for the long haul.

Though Catholics throughout the country are working to provide hurricane relief, few organizations have been better prepared to help than Cure d’Ars and its Global Outreach Ministry.

“Many people here have nothing. I mean nothing,” said Ruth McGee, one of the few parishioners at St. Peter the Apostle who still has a home. “But it seems like people out there care, even though we’re just lowly little old Mississippi.”
Because McGee has a home and phone, she has been talking with Cure d’Ars parishioner Donna Auguste, who co-chairs the church’s global outreach ministry.

“When we heard the reports of the catastrophic emergency in New Orleans, we quickly realized as a community that we needed to mobilize for a response,” Auguste said. “We do outreach in many parts of the world, in many situations, and now our outreach is needed here in the U.S.”

The Global Outreach ministry typically builds houses and establishes communication infrastructure and solar refrigeration in Africa. The organization also builds houses in Mexico, and worked in the Mississippi Delta to upgrade schools long before Katrina ruined them.

“I think a lot of people perceive our community as being poor, and we’re not at all,” said Cure d’Ars Pastoral Assistant Sister Marion Weinzapfel, of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet. “We’re a community of working class and professional people who are very capable. As a largely black community, however, I think our parishioners know the experience of being invisible. People of color are always semi invisible.”

Since the hurricane, Cure d’Ars parishioners have taken turns volunteering with evacuees at Lowry Air Force Base. Parishioners have opened their homes to evacuees. A bus from Queen of Peace Parish in Aurora hauls survivors between the church, Lowry and other places they’re staying.

James Kornbarcher, 46, was flooded out of his New Orleans home after staying behind to care for elderly neighbors who wouldn’t evacuate. After the flood, he commandeered an abandoned boat and pushed the elders up Louisiana Avenue to dry land. He was taken by the National Guard to the New Orleans Convention Center, and later flown to Denver.

He attended Mass at Cure d’Ars Sept. 11, hearing a homily about forgiveness. After Mass, evacuees joined parishioners for sandwiches and cake.

“I have to find it in my heart to forgive those people in New Orleans who had this ‘me, me, me’ selfishness going on,” Kornbarcher said. “These people who ransacked and stole, I have to find a way to forgive them. The Bible says I should.”
Jane Hendricks, an evacuee at Lowry, also attended Mass that day. The 82-year-old former nightclub singer was evacuated to Denver with her dog, Wiggy-Wiggy, after CNN featured her saving a yellow plant from the ruins of a ransacked Whole Foods Market.

Cure d’Ars parishioner Sandra Mann said she’s compelled to help Katrina victims because they’re like family.
“African Americans in Louisiana are overwhelmingly Catholic,” Mann said. “At least 40 percent of the people in this parish are from Louisiana, and most have lots of family there, so there’s a pretty big connection between this parish and that hurricane.”

Parishioner Linda Chase grew up in New Orleans and moved to Denver 40 years ago.

“I have eight cousins missing,” Chase said, explaining that she’s hoping to find some of them while volunteering at Lowry. “It’s very difficult. Originally we couldn’t find 14 of our family members.”

Dr. Al McNair, a physician, and his wife Rhonda, a registered nurse, provide Cure d’Ars with regular Gulf Coast situation reports. The McNairs live in storm-ravaged Ocean Springs, Miss., near Pascagoula.

“They tell us very specifically what people need, and we go to work getting it and shipping it,” said Kathy Holmes, co-director of the global outreach ministry. “There has been a tremendous need for school books. They have students and teachers but not one book. They want every book we can send.”

Supplies are boxed and shipped from a warehouse near Cure d’Ars. The warehouse belongs to the Leave a Little Room Foundation — a nonprofit that works closely with Cure d’Ars Global Outreach Ministry. Auguste donated $10 million to fund the foundation in 2001, after selling a software firm she co-founded in Boulder.

The warehouse typically houses relief items the Leave A Little Room Foundation and Cure d’Ars Global Outreach ship to Africa, but it doubles nicely as a transfer station for Katrina relief supplies.

The supplies are taken to Mississippi in a truck provided by Tom Hastings, CEO of Transportation Specialists LTD, of Omaha, Neb. Hastings grew up in Commerce City. He attended seminary for two years with friend Mike Reddy, a Westminster Fire Department captain. Reddy’s sister attends Cure d’Ars and was able to connect Hastings with Auguste. Hearing Auguste’s need, Hastings offered the truck.

“You can’t rub elbows with monks in the seminary everyday for two years without it affecting you,” Hastings said, explaining his philanthropy.

Earl Juniper, who works for Hastings and lives in Aurora, offered to drive the first load for free.

“I’m a professional truck driver,” Juniper said. “When you get a chance to donate what you specialize in, it’s a great opportunity.”

Down in Mississippi, the spirit of giving in places like Denver has given Father Norvell the most valuable gift a survivor can get: hope.

“The Catholic response has been amazing,” Father Norvell said. “We’re going to make it with some help from our friends.”