Kriss Wells of Le Claire, Pa., is a participant in the Katrina Relief JustWorks camp in New Orleans.

Today, I helped gut a house. Our group went into a house that has been sitting empty since the flood after the levees broke. The place was a horrible mess. The toxic waters invaded everything. There was still food in the microwave. A rat jumped out of the food cupboard.

We carried all the furniture, appliances, clothes, etc., out to the street. Everything was ruined by the toxic water, all the industrial waste that has washed for years into the Gulf. The nastiest stuff you can imagine has soaked into this house. We were protected today from the toxins by wearing respirators and coveralls and goggles and gloves.

After emptying the house, we proceeded to dismantle the plaster walls down to the studs. We carried all the plaster and lath out to the street. It feels good to start this house on its road to recovery.

Every day since we have arrived in New Orleans, the subject of loss has found its way into my conversations. Thousands of people here have loss on top of loss on top of loss: family, friends, neighbors, even their churches are gone. Some people barely recognize the street that they live on. Of course, over a thousand have lost their lives. And it wasn't Katrina that killed them.

Those people died because the levees that were built to protect New Orleans were not built strong enough. Why was this city left unprotected?

C.J. McGregor of Fitchburg, Mass., is a participant in the Katrina Relief JustWorks camp in New Orleans.

It's my third day in New Orleans with the JustWorks camp. I arrived thinking this was simply a chance to give back, offer my assistance, and live my UU faith. These things are all true but this experience has become so much more. This is human rights work. This is a time to stand beside those whose systems have failed them.

I toured the devastation this morning and felt anxious and sick as I entered the coach that would transport my group. I reflected on my anxiety. Was I anxious because after I witnessed the devastation I would have to do something about it? Does this mean that this problem now becomes my responsibility? Is it because witnessing the pain, suffering, and injustice of others is so difficult?

Life was much easier and more pleasant before today. The truth hurts. My spirit and my soul were settled and content before today. They have been poked and prodded and I am restless and angry. I am making a commitment, today, right now to stand beside those fighting for their homes, their land, their lives.