The Weight of Care: What Disaster Volunteers Carry After the Storm

When people imagine disaster volunteers, they often picture strong hands handing out supplies, clearing debris, or setting up tents.
But there’s another kind of weight they carry — the kind you don’t see.
The kind that can settle in your chest after a day of knocking on doors, stepping into dark homes, and sitting with people who have lost everything.
Especially when those people are elderly, alone, and afraid.
At Ground Force Humanitarian Aid (GFHA), we know that disaster relief isn’t just about logistics. It’s about grief, empathy, and human connection — and the emotional toll that comes with it.
What Volunteers See
Our volunteers are often the first people to step into the homes of elderly survivors after a storm. What they encounter can be overwhelming.
And our volunteers don’t just see the destruction and devastation — they absorb it.
They sit with it.
They carry it home.
The Emotional Toll

This kind of caregiving can leave deep marks on those who serve. Many of our volunteers report:
- Vicarious trauma — absorbing the fear, grief, and despair of the people they’re helping.
- Guilt — for not being able to do more, fix more, stay longer.
- Emotional fatigue — from holding space for others’ pain, day after day.
When caring for the elderly, they must constantly manage the balance between urgency and patience.
This is why our Swift Intervention Training isn’t just about disaster logistics.
It’s about emotional readiness, trauma awareness, and understanding how to care for yourself while caring for others.
The Physical Toll

And then there’s the physical side.
When volunteers enter these environments, they face:
- Mold exposure that can make breathing difficult.
- Heat exhaustion from spending long hours in homes with no power or air circulation, leading to possible dehydration.
- Injuries from debris, unstable structures, or simply pushing their bodies too far.
- Exhaustion from lack of sleep, irregular meals, and the adrenaline crash that follows every deployment.
They carry backpacks full of gear:
Gear that FEMA and other organizations may not have readily available. Masks, gloves, flashlights, pet leashes, printed info cards, water, ready-to-eat food — and a notebook to document the unspoken needs of someone too overwhelmed to articulate them.
Caring for the Caregivers
At GFHA, we talk often about relational repair — not just for survivors, but for our own people.
We make space to debrief.
We encourage check-ins and mental health support.
And we remind every volunteer: you can’t carry someone else if you’ve dropped yourself.
The trauma our volunteers encounter isn’t something they can usually just shake off at the end of a shift.
It’s something we must all acknowledge — and care for — as part of the long road to recovery, together.

Why This Work Still Matters
Despite the toll, our volunteers come back.
Again and again.
Because when they knock on a door, and an elderly survivor finally opens it, there is a moment of connection that reminds them why they came.
It’s in the eyes of someone who says, “I thought I was forgotten.”
It’s in the quiet thank you from someone who hasn’t spoken all week.
It’s in the smile that returns after someone’s pet is safe, their medication is replaced, and they know they’re not alone.
Donate here to support not only the elderly, but to support the volunteers who sacrifice so much and expect nothing in return.
Those who come into a dark and unforgiving environment and leave only when the light shines again.