Prudent evacuation

Paint mixing room at CarCraft in Chalmette, Louisiana, five months after Hurricane Katrina struck St. Bernard's Parish.

On the eve of the storm, Schenck sent his family to Folsom. He stayed at their historic home in Chalmette until 3:00 a.m. Realizing the storm was gaining momentum, he joined his family at their ranch, 75 miles west of Chalmette. Katrina began to abate by 7:00 a.m. but the levees had been breached and the water came to finish what Katrina started. Schenck's Folsom home and family were safe - yet trapped. It took him two days to cut his way out of the ranch and get to CarCraft in Chalmette. They were truly cut off from the world.

While Schenck was cutting through the 100-year-old fallen oaks in Folsom, the Chalmette police department phoned him on his cell phone to tell him that they had broken into his building and confiscated his tow trucks to use for recovery. CarCraft tow trucks were used for recovery of both the living and the dead. When Schenck finally arrived in Chalmette, his home was completely gone, wiped off the face of the earth. His businesses sustained major damage. The body shop, truck shop and mechanical shop were blown apart and with debris lying in toxic residue from floor to ceiling.

Compressors were ripped away from the building and laid upside down in the next lot. A full 250 gallon tank full of oil floated over 250 yards away. A red van washed into the cyclone fence, where it still stood five months after the storm. No one knows who it belongs to. Everything had been under water for days. "There are water lines on everything," said Schenck, pointing at his fork lift.

When I visited, the main store was being repaired. The destroyed offices had been completely gutted and new framing started. The walls and floors were clean. One paint booth was operational. Schenck and his crew repaired everything in the body and mechanical shops. "We fixed everything: lifts, compressors, electrical systems, everything," espoused Schenck. "We don't know how long it will last, but we are thankful to be partially operational for now. We had a brand new PRO Spot Welder, two-days-old, but we couldn't fix that."

As we walked through the mechanical shop, surprisingly full of cars and working technicians, Schenck asked if I would like to ride over to see the truck shop. I asked him to wait while I moved my car from the driveway of the gas station across the street. He stopped, gave me a very sad look, shook his head and said, "Don't worry about it. There are no rules here anymore."

CarCraft's Truck Shop, located a short distance from the body shop, is a large facility, designed to repair heavy commercial trucks and equipment. It has a bed liner booth at one end of the building, completely blown apart. The paint mixing room looks like the blender from Hades whipped through - covering walls with colored water lines, yellow from the school bus they had painted the day before. The office still had computers on the desk, with water lines through the monitors. The million dollar motor coach that was in for repairs had already been removed by the owner, another total loss. Schenck does not plan to reopen the truck shop. It is still standing like it was the day after Hurricane Katrina blew through.

Schenck and his administrative assistant of seven years, Cheri Newbury, operated with cell phones out of their vehicles to keep the tow trucks going and gain a foothold on recovery. Newbury, her husband and two sons, 10 and 15, were living in a 220 sq. ft. FEMA trailer in Folsom, where a friend of the Schencks set them up on their property.

In January, all seven employees that had returned to CarCraft were living in FEMA trailers in the back lot that used to store wrecked cars.

During better times, Calvin "Denny" Schenck painted Jeff Gordon's race car. But now in January 2006, only one paint booth was operational, down from four before Hurricane Katrina, and only seven employees out of 50 have returned to work. All seven lost their homes and are living indefinitely in FEMA trailers in the CarCraft lot.

The weight of the world is on Schenck's shoulders along with residents of America's Gulf Coast. He was ordered by the sheriff to open for business two weeks after the storm. Over 300 vehicles were lost in his facilities alone.

"CNN was here the first few weeks, they said they have never seen anything like this anywhere in the world," Schenck remarked. "We went from $350,000 a month in business to $80,000 a month in six hours."

Childhood friend Apellate Court Judge David Gorbaty grew up with Calvin Schenck in Chalmette. The evening before my visit, they had gone to celebrate the re-opening of Antoine's in the French Quarter. Schenck said of his friend, "He is working to put the Parish back together." So is Schenck. "It is still a mess here," said CarCraft's Cheri Newbury, "but Denny is helping everybody. He always figures out a way to help people."

Schenck has just cleared the land for a brand spanking new CarCraft in Folsom, Louisiana. The future of the existing locations is uncertain. But for now, every CarCraft employee who can come back to work has a job.

Newbury is smiling today after months of tears. She and her family just moved into their new home. "I'm digging in the garden," she said.

Newbury shared the experience of her morning drive from her new home, "It is so beautiful - the sun coming through the trees shining on the new baby horses and their mamas. It feels so good to be happy again."

The world is watching America's Gulf Coast. The collision industry is watching CarCraft, Denny Schenck, his family and employees. They have grabbed a hold of the cards that were dealt and are throwing a new hand. There is no doubt about it. They are doing okay.