Our work connected us with so many people. R. kept putting articles in the paper about us with great pictures. The outreach with the loaves brought us into contact with people in need and with people who could help them. We even ended up being a place where people donated food for the dogs of homeless men.
The kids had started to plan a project in Guatemala. We were going to make a school building for some teachers who wanted to work with surviving children of the genocide of the Mayan Indians. Getting passports was a big problem. It is not easy when you are a kid who has been arrested for Timber Protests. It is really not easy when you are hiding from your parents. It is not easy when you are homeless. It is not easy when you have no money. But some good souls helped them. Some lawyers and doctors and supporters came through. About 11 were planning on going.
Our band of workers was building trust and becoming a well oiled machine. Christmas came and on one cold Saturday while the bread was rising I was sick of their talk about what a rip off Christmas was and how fucked up and commercial it was. I asked them to light a fire outside and I had a present to give them. I sat them down and told them a Christmas story from Alan Howard's book "Nativity Stories". At first they were uncomfortable. Then they were entranced. Then they were sad. It seemed that most of these tough street wise teens had never had anyone tell them a story. The rest of the afternoon was very holy.
Things took a harsh turn on the night before New Years Eve. My own kids had been visiting and had been at the baking. They all had left by that morning. The weather turned hot. It was about 70 degrees. It began to pour. The snow in the mountains, already considerable, melted. The trees in the watershed had been cut back with the bread kids protesting to no avail and the great Ashland flood began.
The Great Ashland Flood of 1997 devastated the town. The access roads to the highways were cut off. Houses fell off the hills. The whole downtown was flooded. No water. No electric. No plumbing. No more pizza ovens, no more bread pans, no more supplies. No way to get to our people even if we could have cooked bread. The whole hot springs area was deemed unsafe even to go near because of chemical contaminants that had been washed down. About 2 weeks after the flood, I went to the area with the fire department and they made us wear protective clothing.
Everyone helped everyone during the flood. I really liked this town at that moment. But for the bread kids it was a big ending and many beginnings. Mas manana.
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