United Church of Christ
Stillspeaking Magazine
Dedicated volunteer helps mend brokenness of Katrina-ravaged community ministry
Seated on a folding chair in front of the altar in what remained of St. Michael’s Catholic Church in New Orleans, Peg Jacobs’ sense of hearing had never been more acute. In the immediate aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, the voice of her still-speaking God was clear. Irony permeated the storm-raked sanctuary built in the round with ceiling-to-floor stained-glass windows spaced a few feet apart.
“All of the bottom half of the windows were destroyed,” says Peg, who served from 1994 to 1999 as executive assistant in the United Church of Christ’s Office for Church in Society. “As we sat in church with this vista of devastation all around, there was the brokenness of the world and the hope and sustenance of the faith all in one visual setting.”
Then 71 years old, Peg had journeyed several hundred miles from Nerinx, KY., to the Gulf Coast to assist in relief and rebuilding efforts at Back Bay Mission, a longtime community ministry of the UCC in Biloxi, Miss. “The image I saw that day in that church was to feed me throughout my seven months there and beyond,” she says.
Alongside that memory for Peg is one of the celebration last fall to commemorate Back Bay’s remarkable rally of rebuilding. “Being there really brought tears to my eyes, to see the transformation and the new depth of mission emanating from the ruins of Katrina,” she says. “It has the capacity now to be the steppingstone of faithful mission for this era of its life.”
Back Bay’s restored and expanded facilities include the Micah Center, a 3,786-square-foot, multi-purpose space serving as a day center for the homeless; a gathering space for community-wide events; and additional staff offices. Also built was the 4,778-square-foot Mission House Volunteer Center that houses recovery and work-camp volunteers, as well as two semi-private rooms and space for related program staff.
First recollections
Within a few weeks of Katrina’s havoc, Peg took her interest in volunteering to internet search engines. Key words “Back Bay Mission” provided sufficient motivation. “I was so moved by the number of UCC churches making appeals for Back Bay and the people of Biloxi,” she says. “It showed a real love for Back Bay on the part of the UCC. This really felt on target for me and my journey.”
Peg was “bowled over” in October 2005 as the Rev. Shari Prestemon, executive director of Back Bay Mission, led her on a private tour into the depth of the destruction.
“I couldn’t believe all the plastic bags hanging in the trees,” says Peg, who for the past 11 years has lived among the Sisters of Loretto Community in Kentucky. “It was as if the trees had become sailboats. I mean, you know you use a lot of plastic bags, but there they were all in front of me. It looked like a war-torn zone that had been scatter-bombed.”
Peg pauses, as if to recollect the mind-numbing images, to assure herself that it was, in fact, all real. “It’s amazing the difference a minute can make in people’s lives,” she says.
But among the crushed cars, twisted metal and other signs of lives either ended or changed forever — a doll in a mud puddle here, a single shoe lying on a sidewalk there — Peg was quick to envision Back Bay’s resurrection. She was convinced that Shari’s resolve and the people’s spirit could reverse Back Bay’s fortune.
“The spunkiness in the community was stirring, even amongs the ruins,” she says. “They’d posted a sign out front that read, ‘Back Bay Mission: We shall return.’ I had no doubt.” Even as she watched five storm-ravaged Back Bay buildings bulldozed between late 2005 and early 2006, Peg clung to the positives. “As each was being destroyed,” she says, “I gave thanks for the life-giving memories they held for so many volunteers, staff and clients over the years.”
Wearing many hats
Peg’s volunteer role took myriad forms. Her first project was “making some order” of the 2-inch-high stack of printed e-mails from prospective volunteers. “Folks wanted to come and work, yet we didn’t have a place for them to stay. By the time I left in May 2006, the schedule for incoming work groups was filled solid for the next 18 months.”
A photographer by hobby, Peg shot many of the photos taken of Back Bay’s restoration. She extended a helping hand to visiting work groups and a compassionate ear to the dozens of displaced and distraught persons she saw on a daily basis.
“On Friday nights, we used to gather for evaluation and feedback with the groups,” she says. “The inevitable tears of gratitude showed that people care so much. We always tried to see, if at all possible, whether they could meet the person whose house they were working on. Those one-to-ones were special.”
Heart-wrenching stories of apartment rent hikes and homelessness were commonplace. Peg remembers, “People would come in with their newborns in a basinet, needing money for electricity or whatever.”
Resiliency, red tape and respect
Peg recalls fondly Shari’s resiliency and leadership qualities when the latter told Peg, “We will rebuild. Back Bay will be present even in new ways in new housing, and whole new structures built with FEMA money.”
Working through FEMA and its inherent red tape was its own little science, says Peg. “Shari forwarded this one email from FEMA — you couldn’t make heads or tails out of it. All you could do was laugh.”
Maintaining a “serious lightness” in operations was key. “If you’re gonna work with FEMA and the government, you best have a sense of humor and some patience,” says Peg.
For her part, Peg’s sense of humor is alive and well. She tells of returning to Back Bay the following year for a three-month stint to assist with financial matters while Director of Operations Lori Webb was on maternity leave. “Yeah, I went back down there and mucked around with the finances for a while,” says Peg, “pretending to know what I was doing.”
Another positive outcome of Peg’s experience was steeped in social relations. “One of the outcomes is that we Northerners, at least this one,” she says, pointing to herself, “left with a great respect and fondness for Mississippi and the Mississippi people. There was a gratefulness, on their end, to the Northerners … I think a barrier was broken down.”
Peg pauses and adds with a gentle laugh, “I don’t know how the UCC could have grown in my respect, but I think this deepened my love for the UCC.”
Peg’s passion for the UCC hit high gear in 1973 when she began what would become 13 years of service with the Massachusetts Conference. While working with mission and educational consultants there, she created a resource center, worked on social-justice and spiritual-development programs — and learned about Back Bay.
In 1994, she accepted the Office for Church in Society position and moved to Cleveland, where she remained until 1999.
“It had been more than five years between leaving my national UCC position and volunteering at Back Bay,” says Peg. “I really missed the UCC. Still do.”
Her current home among the Sisters of Loretto is a faithful community with “many similarities to the United Church of Christ. They gave great financial support and prayers, so I felt that I was at Back Bay as an ecumenical presence,” says Peg, one of two Protestants living with the Loretto community.
‘A deep measure of calm’
Peg’s decision to contribute her passions and compassion to long-term volunteer operations at Back Bay was “truly a blessing,” says Shari Prestemon.
“She brought with her a deep measure of calm at a time when those of us ‘on the ground’ were experiencing profound loss and upheaval,” says Shari. “During her time with us, she certainly fulfilled critical responsibilities that were of real significance to us.
“But what I hold most dear was her willingness to simply come and be truly present with us during our time of critical need; as a partner and a friend in ministry.”
For nearly 90 years, Back Bay Mission’s programs have changed and evolved to meet the needs of the community it serves. As its mission statement says, Back Bay “serves … by faithful witness for social justice and compassionate service to the poor and marginalized.” For more information, call 228-432-0301 or log on to <thebackbaymission.org>.