We left Hooper Bay this morning, flying out in the same small plane that had just delivered a fresh load of volunteers from the lower 48. As we took off and gained elevation, we had an excellent view of the city, looking west towards the Sea.
Would I go back? In a heartbeat. For all the undesirable elements of Hooper Bay, there were positive, redeeming qualities. Moments of beauty of joy and promise. The town and the people of Hooper Bay have their faults, just like we all do--it's just that their situation is different than the world I live in in Jacksonville, Florida.
Some people have asked...why spend the time and money in such an isolated place as Hooper Bay? Can't they just move somewhere else? The answer to that question is easy---this is their home. It's where they live, and where their ancestors and families have lived for a long time. We all have places that we call home, and these places don't always make sense to others. I would hate to live in Fresno or Ohio or Arizona, but there are millions of people who live there and would never want to leave. More power to them.
Samaritan's Purse draws its name from the Parable of the Good Samaritan, found in Luke 10:30-37. I like this story for a number of reasons, but here is a little nugget of truth that really struck home in regards to Hooper Bay. The Samaritan didn't ask the man what his religious or political affiliation was; he didn't ask him about any annoying habits or addictions or if they were of the same ethnicity or nationality. The Samaritan saw a need, had the ability to address that need, and took action.
The town of Hooper Bay needs help, and we were fortunate enough to be in a position to lend a hand. I know that lesson can be applied elsewhere as well.