Hanging Out at the Armory–Packing boxes for Operation Gratitude

As time has gone on, I’ve gone from listening to loud music all the time to listening to news radio…I hope that doesn’t mean I’m getting old. At any rate, I was thankful for KNX 1070 this afternoon because of a story they ran on Operation Gratitude’s weekend Box packing at the Aromory in Van Nuys. Grateful, because I was lost.

I had been driving around for nearly an hour and a half and I was as much late-thinking about my character flaw of “in for a Penny in for a pound” mentality…” They didn’t know I was coming. i just decided to show up because I had seen on Twitter that they were packing boxes for the weekend to ship to the servicemembers downrange. But I wanted to go, I mean, after all, I’m doing a screening of “Witt’s Daughter” that with proceeds going to Operation Gratitude’s non profit organizations.

It took me a couple minutes longer after I heard the story to realize that I could get the address from the radio station (as Google Maps had sent me to some random location NOT the Armory and three 411 Verizon searches had yielded a bunch of useless phone numbers…as I tried to find someone who would know where he Armory was as they they said it wasn’t listed.) After a few minutes of rustling through papers, the cheerful voice on the other end of the phone located the address and gave it to me 17330 Victory Blv. I had been so close in my many back and forths through the area, if only I had turned right instated of left… but no matter, I was on the road and I was happy.

The room was loud with a mix of early disco era music and the energy of people happily bustling with a job to do. By time I got there at 2:30 p.m. they had packed four thousand boxes. People were everywhere, and though I was informed that the afternoon was slower than the morning, I was still amazed at the mass of humanity that was there. Old, young, people dressed as characters from “Star Wars” (why?) people wearing green shirts they’d purchased that bore the Operation Gratitude Logo, all working to a cause on this huge human assembly line.   I met Carolyn Blashek, founder of Operation Gratitude and was whisked into the hullabaloo,

After signing a release that promised the Gov that I wouldn’t come after them if I was injured on site (it was a gov building) Anne took me to a place that was in need of people– the human conveyer belt. There, people would grab boxes and drag them along the rectangular table assembly line where people on the other side of the table would put in items: A magazine, A “Dear Hero” letter, a box of Girlsccout cookies, a CD or DVD, lotions, chaptsick, Ben Gay (hurled at me with cheerful but enthusiastic force by a fresh faced blonde teenager, toothpaste, tooth brushes, fistfulls of candy, cough drops, fabric squares (I forgot to ask why) and more magazines.  I went through the line several times shepherding four to six boxes at a once until I was taken to a table that filled out customs forms. I immediately flashed on the time that a friend of mine had tactfully said “you do such a lovely job stuffing envelopes” after seeing my attempt at legibility on her wedding envelopes. But I was assured that my writing was readable–heavens I hope those soldiers get their packages.  Time flew and soon there were no more boxes to address for the day, and I looked up and saw the human conveyer belt and assembly line was gone, the tables empty.  A forklift pulled a large box filled with little boxes from the warehouse and soon the pens, packing tape and customs forms were whisked away as well.  

I was done. As I went to wash my hands I saw a lone girl in the hallway at a letter writing station. I asked if I could join her.  Anyone who was there could write a letter telling them a little bit about yourself, and thanking them for their service.  Tears came to my eyes as I thought of them overseas, a completely volunteer military. Most of them, signing up when they knew it was a time of war.  On my worst day at work, no one ever shot at me, nor planted a bomb where I would find it and die… But these brave men and women–they chose to do it. “Wow” I said. and other things I will reserve for the “Dear Hero” i wrote.

It may not seem like much. A letter a box with little odds and ends– but it means a lot to them.  Everyone likes to be told they’re appreciated–even tough service members…I guess I should say, ESPECIALLY service members. A box with their name on it means heaps because for a moment, to someone outside of their family, someone sees them as a hero. 

for more info re: Operation Gratitude click here