At what had become our usual breakfast meeting when we all were present, Wondah had something to tell and show us on the big screen.

   "Guys, when we got home late last night I took a look at the system and I saw some red flags right away. It only took a minute to get to the video spot where it happened, about 9:33 pm. It seems that three people all dressed in black with masks approached from below and when they got within our warning zone our speakers went off and they retreated rapidly, not knowing that there was no one here. That's the first attempted breach in over two weeks. I wonder if they knew we were away at the meeting?"

   Derek was first to respond. "That's great work. Shows that our system is working. I'd hate to have those thieves set off our booby-traps. I'm tired of cleaning up the gore. From what you showed us it doesn't look like those violent gangs are still around."

   Melody interjected, "I don't know why, but I miss the danger of those violent attacks. Wish I could have shot a couple more of those guys who thought they could take from us whatever they wanted."

   "Now, now Melody. I like being able to go throughout the city without someone taking pot shots at us. First, the lack of city water, and then, the flood, wiped out a lot of the gang communities. There probably are some out there still scavenging, but I think they are greatly diminished."

   "I hope so, Drake. While my electronic toys are deadly, I don't relish the idea of just killing people because they are hungry. Bloodthirsty? … Hell, yes!" Wondah ended that train of conversation with that vivid pronouncement. We all laughed.

   I turned to more serious matters. "I noticed that there wasn't any spiritual committee started last night. I understand that some people have been going to the chapel in the Rambler on Sunday mornings. But I don't know if we have any priests or pastors in the community.

   Wondah pulled up the roster of inhabitants we registered. "There are a couple of monks from the Buddhist temple that served the Vietnamese port community before… Also, a nearby Catholic Church. You're right, Drake, no priest or pastor among us. Just the chaplain on the Rambler."

   "I'd like to get our construction firm going again, Drae."

   "I'm with you, Der. It's time we started salvaging and rebuilding so the port people can start feeling like they have more than just food and water. We could start by restoring that temple and that Catholic Church if they are restorable. I think our subs and our guys and gals that want to rebuild are ready to work with us now that we have the basics starting to get taken care of."

   Melody said, "I'll make some calls, when do you want to start checking on those buildings?" 

   "We've all got chores to do this morning. Let's agree to meet at the Buddhist Temple at 1 pm. Is that okay with everyone?" Everyone agreed, but only Derek and a crew would be with me.

   We converged at the Half Moon Temple in Inglewood about halfway to the port right off 101. From the port, thanks to contact with Van, came Quoc and two other Vietnamese lads. They brought with them the two monks that had formerly lived there.

   First, with guns ready, we drove through the blocks around the temple to see if there was any activity. Occasionally, Peter Sarnoff with his plow, had to push a vehicle or some windblown debris out of the way. All was quiet except for some cats that were seen and a pack of dogs that scurried across the street in one place.

   The temple was already in decline before the pandemic. As we surveyed inside, there was much destruction and some graffiti on the ornate decor so carefully done by several generations of Buddhists. It was a real shame.

   Quoc had a lot of discussion with the monks in Vietnamese and he relayed to the rest of us what they wanted us to do or not.

    We began with a general cleanup making sure that anything that we swept up or picked up was checked by the monks to see if it had any value for them to keep. We cleared out and cleaned the place in a couple of hours.

   Peter Sarnoff had already begun rebuilding the wrought iron fence and gate that formed the entry to the temple grounds surrounded by high concrete block walls covered with white painted stucco and bougainvillea vines in full bloom after all the rain.

   Anything that was gold or gemstone had been taken, but attempts to remove the gold leaf from the giant Buddha statue in the center of the temple had failed. But graffiti and two gunshot chips to the concrete statue had done further damage.

   Given some solvents to try, the monks began trying to remove the painted graffiti from the gold. It was tedious work, but they made progress while the rest of us began to piece together broken furniture and artifacts using glue and whatever we could manage to try to make them whole again.

   We cleaned out the monk's quarters and made sure that their kitchen appliances were back in order. Outside of the building, there was a lot of graffiti that had to be painted over with the right colors to match the original.

   It took two days to complete the work. Derek created a solar powered surveillance and warning system like we had so the monks could live there. our vietnamese helpers promised to bring them candles, incense, charcoal, food and water until we could get sustainable power and water for them as well. that project took another week.

   There was a St. Michael's Korean Catholic Church in Torrance not far from the port we selected for the next day's work. When we got there, we found a rather modern structure rather than a traditional Catholic church.

   Our crew, including the Vietnamese guys and one girl, decided it would be better to be a few of blocks closer to the 405 to the Our Lady of the Angels Catholic Church that probably was over 200 years old. Much more to everyone's liking than the Korean one.

   Surprisingly, as we entered we found very little destruction or desecration, probably because many of the South American gangs came from Catholic communities and would only enter churches looking for gold, silver and money, not to desecrate.

   . We noticed that the altar chalices and crosses were missing, evidence of looting. Back in the quarters behind the church we found two dead priests and three nuns. All of them dried out skin over bones. And, in the courtyard, three fresh graves. We buried them with the others. 

   We then planned to come back to create a well-protected entry and gate so that the building could be used for masses whenever Roman Catholics wished to start a church again. Surely, there were some priests in the area that survived. They just had to be found.

   While the Rambler had provided medical and pharmaceutical assistance, the infirmary was small, lacked diagnostic equipment and supplies were running out. I thought our next best bet was to try to reopen a nearby medical complex in Harbor City right of Cal 1 I had seen every time we drove by. It would be a major undertaking, but could provide equipment for diagnosis and treatment that the ship didn't have.

   The first morning, we approached the main entrance with trepidation and with good reason. The glass windows and doors were not broken and the main doors were open, leading into a large foyer and information desk.

   The smell of the place was what struck me first, followed by the dead bodies on the floor and in chairs in the waiting area all at least two months into disintegration. Again, dry skin stretched tightly over bone like Egyptian mummies unwrapped. Strangely, there was no evidence of worms or rodent attack. Probably because of the nature of the place, usually free from such vermin by design and cleanliness.

   The pharmacy was on that main floor. It was untouched and that was a real bonus. As were the rooms used for diagnosis with machines ranging x-ray, CT scan, lithotripsy, MRI, PET, lasers, and bedside monitoring equipment as well as labs all abandoned and without any vandalism whatsoever.

   Our first task was removal of the bodies. There were many bodies in the hospital beds upstairs including some of the doctors and nurses still in their white uniforms and masks. We found some wheelchairs and started moving them out, but finding the stairs very difficult to navigate with the head of a cadaver bouncing up and down in front of your face as you tried to drop the wheelchair down step-by-step to the next floor. Oh, how I wished we had some electricity in that building! We needed to get the elevators running again.

   We found a dumpster truck and some dumpsters. We brought a dumpster to the emergency center where there was a loading dock and were able to fill it with bodies. For the next two days we removed some 63 bodies. We gathered up in envelopes what personal effects they had on them for identification and chronicled it all on a smart pad with photos of ID cards, jewelry, rings and watches in case there were any living relatives still looking for them. Categorizing it all properly would have to wait until later.

   The roster from the village contained a 32-year-old pharmacist, Mary Beth Fong. We found her on the roof of a warehouse where she had already planted some medicinal plants that she had learned of from her grandmother and mother. She was the only one left from a family of six.

   We searched the roster again and found some medical technicians, but only one doctor and two nurses.

   Hymie Espinoza was 26 and interning at St. Jude's when it happened. With doctors and nurses succumbing to the epidemic all around, he barely made it to his family home in Cerritos only to find his family sick and dying.

   Like I got sick, he got sick and was out of it for about five days. When he recovered, everyone was dead except for his 16-year-old brother, Carlos, and his 12-year-old sister, Margo. They had kept him alive with water and soups. They began scavenging and slowly starving to death until the storm came and Hymie knew that they would be flooded out because their home was close to the Los Angeles River.

   Three days later, keeping ahead of the rising water, they saw posted signs and found their way to the port. We found him recovering with his siblings in a balcony room on the Rambler. He was weak, but willing to go with us.

   We took Dr. Espinosa, Ms. Fong, two medical personnel from the Rambler, and three medical technicians and toured the buildings with them. They agreed to start with the main building and open the pharmacy immediately. We set about securing the front of the building and all the other entrances that day. We didn't want anyone upsetting what we had found and started.

   Our next main task was to provide power and water to the buildings again. It would be a major undertaking.

Copyright 2023 © Ronald W. Hull

8/7/23