On the Ground: The Hurricane Survivors I’ll Remember

When we first arrived at the FEMA Emergency Response Center in Largo, Florida, the job was simple: hand out hygiene kits to people who were applying for FEMA funding after the destruction left behind by Hurricane Milton.  

The people in line had suffered significant damage to their property, experienced devastating flooding, or lost their homes all together. A lot of folks in the five-hour line were likely applying for funding reimbursements from losing all their food due to a lack of power or flooding, and many were from minority groups. There were hundreds of people in the line, which snaked through the hallway and out the building during the hottest part of the day. It was overwhelming. Parents struggled to entertain their young children while waiting hour after hour for help.  

I was there as part of Project HOPE’s emergency response team, which had pre-positioned in Florida before Hurricane Milton even made landfall and arrived in affected communities the day after. In the immediate aftermath of the storm, Project HOPE coordinated with local shelters and clinics to assess the most immediate health needs and provide urgent relief to survivors.  

While we were on site that day, a colleague and I noticed an older woman limping while carrying heavy food items and a bucket of fresh water. We offered to help her, and she was incredibly grateful. She mentioned she lost her cane in the storm—she had rushed so quickly to get out of her house that she forgot it.  

“I managed to save my car, and I still have my job,” she said. “I’m a teacher, but I lost everything else.” She said it so matter-of-factly, as if she were describing a normal day, almost as if it had happened to her before.  

But when we apologized for hearing this, she said, “I’m lucky you know? I still get to teach. I have a car to get me where I need to go.” She probably thanked us six or seven times, and all we did was help her carry her things for a few minutes.  

This was my first genuine experience of speaking with someone who had lost so much, and I don’t think she even realized what an impact her unique perspective had on me. 

On October 17, the Project HOPE team participated in a drive-through hygiene kit distribution, where individuals and families could drive through and collect whatever items they needed. The large majority of the population we served during this distribution were Hispanic families, some having more than three children, who had nothing but the car they were in. We saw mothers holding their small babies in their arms, because there wasn’t enough room in their car, or simply because they didn’t have a car seat for them.  

Project HOPE distributed more than 230 hygiene kits at the event, and then went back the next week to deliver even more. It was after this distribution that I had the pleasure of interviewing Angela Miles, pastor of Bethlehem Bible Church, which operates the Multicultural Health Center where the distribution was held.  

As she approached the Project HOPE table I wrapped my arm around her and asked if I could hear her story. We walked off to the side and she shared a little about her experience.  

Pastor Miles was born and raised in Sarasota and has been with the church for 15 years. She’s the type of person who does everything she can, every day, to serve others. It’s evident in her demeanor, how she carries herself, and how humble she was when speaking with me. She didn’t want to take credit for anything; she saw herself as doing what she could for those she can reach.  

“Everybody is so devastated with these hurricanes and the damage,” she said. “It’s just a mental stress for everybody. Along with people not having power, food, or water, some people don’t even have houses. So just the small things, you know, they appreciate.  

“We just try to do the best we can to spread as much as we can to help one another. We’ve got enough hatred around here and there’s no room for it. We got so much love to give.” 

It was a joy getting to spend a few minutes with her and catch a glimpse of her life. She’s one of those people you know you will remember long after you’ve said goodbye.  

Putting your feet on the ground in a humanitarian response is a privilege few get to experience. I left Florida wishing I could have done more and stayed longer, but I also felt more connected to the work than ever. I left knowing I was leaving behind an incredible team in Florida who will continue to implement the program activities to reach the populations with the greatest need. And more than anything, I feel motivated to jump back into my role as a fundraiser to support the life-changing work we conduct around the world every day.  

Taylor Robertshaw is a Development Specialist on Project HOPE’s Corporate and Foundations Partnerships team.