By the Thousands, Faithful Toil to Resurrect Gulf Cities

"Not in January or February," Tucker told Nguyen. "Maybe in March."

Nguyen, a slight man with thinning dark hair and bleary eyes, nodded. A half-promise was better than destitution.

"Thank you, sir," he said, following Tucker back out to the street.

'Just Come'

In the days after Katrina hit in August, Tucker and fellow church member Liz Pagan, a Fairfax seamstress, scrambled to put together their mercy mission.

"We had no idea exactly what we would do down there," said Pagan, who has spent seven weeks in the hurricane zone. "People asked me: 'What do I pack? What are we going to be doing?' And I said, 'I don't know. Just come.' "

Choosing Biloxi almost at random, because so much aid seemed to be going to New Orleans, they drove down in a convoy of vehicles with 20 others.

Carrying chain saws, generators and food purchased with $15,000 donated by their church, they arrived Sept. 9 -- the first out-of-town volunteers to get to Bethel Lutheran Church, a 100-member congregation on the western edge of Biloxi. The church was struggling to help stricken residents.

Lord of Life members set up a health clinic in the church library and turned the fellowship hall into a food pantry.

Their sudden appearance "was one of those times when God touched me," said Judy Bultman, 59, wife of Bethel Pastor Jerry Bultman.

At first, the work was grim and dirty. They "mucked" devastated homes where the water had risen to the ceilings, shoveling out foul-smelling mud and dead pets' carcasses, and hauling out houses' entire contents -- walls, bathtubs, mattresses, couches, clothing, pictures, toys, oozing refrigerators.

Residents worked alongside them. Together, they wept and prayed.

"I've never been through something like that," said Scott Daniels, 45, a federal employee who was on the first trip and returned a few weeks ago.