Well I hope this one is for real. This retired soldier put on his old army uniform and drove his own truck down to New Orleans, loaded with supplies. Excerpt (via Daniel in Brookline):
Posted by David Boxenhorn at September 13, 2005 07:21 PM | TrackBacksOn the way to the food center, a filthy soaking wet teenage girl shouts and runs up to the truck. "My Grandma! my Grandma! Please h'ep". I put her in the passenger seat and she is crying and giving me directions. I cannot understand a word she is saying, as her accent is so thick. I follow her hand signals for a few blocks and we come to a large depression that looks to be way too deep for the deuce. It's up to the roofs of the cars in the street. Why the hell was I too lazy last winter to install the deep water fording kit? I figure if the water stays below my fenders and I go slow enough to not make a bow wave, I'll give it a shot. Several hundred yards further the water gets shallower. There is one house with the water only about a foot deep around it. Standing in the yard are at least 60 people. There was a whole lot of "Praise Jesus!" going on. Then I realized, here were Grandma and all of her kin. My second realization was that they thought I was their knight in shining armor.
They all spoke at once, and I understood not a word. I almost blundered and asked if anyone spoke English. A Blackhawk had dropped food a couple of days earlier, but since then nothing. The water had gone down far enough for the young girl to swim for help. She walked/swam through half a mile of sewage, chemicals, dead bodies, snakes and rats to find me. If there is a hero in this story, she was this bedraggled little girl. We loaded up, put the teenagers on the hood, roof and fenders, Granny and the kids up in the cab.
Can you fit 60 people in and on a deuce? Yes sir, you can. It rides low and slow, but it still moves.