Four cars, six volunteers and family
members on the team, out of a great hobby and fun time. I told them that a recent situation had enlightened me. In actuality, a Beagle made me do it,” he smiles, recalling the day. “The Beagle had landed,” he added. Yes, he really did say that. Of course, everyone thought Ronnie had just lost his mind. What Ronnie saw in the aftermath of
Charley made him realize, this is Florida. Always, with Florida storms, it is never a question of if, but when. Next time, he vowed, they would be better prepared to help wherever needed. He set out to con- vert two of his rigs, previously used to transport his race cars. He converted one into a rescue animal transport, retrofitting it with 64 stainless steel crates. The other rig became a logistics trailer, complete with generator, shower, washer, dryer, freezer and 600 gallons of diesel fuel. Ronnie spent around $200,000 to convert the rigs. People began referring to him as Noah. Friends and peers laughed at him. “They called them Ronnie’s Arks,” he said.
In Ronnie’s mind, the most impor-
tant element in disaster relief is the volun- teer. “I’m asking someone to put them- selves in harm's way - for no pay. I better be able to provide a way to feed them. I better be able to provide them with a place to shower. I better be able to give them a place to get some rest,” he said. The logistics trailer would be used by
the Disaster Animal Rescue Team (DART) for Hurricane Katrina. The transporter trailer is now at Humane Society/SPCA of Sumter County. When Katrina hit, Laura Bevan again called Ronnie for help. “She asked if we could get our rig, equip- ment and DART crew to Jackson, Mississippi.” They were mobilized within an hour
after Laura’s call. “We had built our equip- ment for a disaster like this. We had planned for this. Within 24 hours, we were on the road. We left Florida with four trucks and trailers.” Ronnie calculated they would need to refuel somewhere in Alabama. What he had not figured on was that Alabama had been hit pretty hard too, and much of the state, on their route to Jackson, was without power. Gas pumps are powered by electricity and every gas station they encountered was closed. In
32 THE NEW BARKER
the dark of night, just up ahead, Ronnie saw a flicker of light at a pit stop/gas sta- tion. “We pulled in, thanking our lucky stars, only to find out the owner of the sta- tion was using his single generator to pre- serve the food in his store freezers. He saw our 30 kw generator and said that if he could have use of it for a few hours, we would drive away with all the fuel we wanted, at no charge.” With some re-wiring, Ronnie
hooked up the generator and they were able to turn on all of the gas pumps. Soon, the place was teaming with locals, filling up their vehicles and gas cans. Once the DART convoy arrived in
Jackson, Mississippi, they were prepared to wait for orders, knowing deployment would not happen right away. What they did not expect was to be hit by govern- mental bureaucracy of such magnitude. Mississippi agriculture is big business. Poultry is the state's number one com- modity. The head veterinarian for Mississippi's Animal Health Board did not appreciate a bunch of outsiders coming in, thinking they could help. He told the DART crew, “If it’s not a chicken or a cow, don’t bother to rescue it.” “Can you imagine telling that to a
group of people whose compassion is for all life? I told him that was not how it was going to work. We’ll triage and help the most critical of all animals first.” Determined to throw his weight
around, after inspecting the DART rigs and equipment, the veterinarian expressed his concern about their ability to provide nutritional meals to the team of 30 with the supplies and equipment they had on board. He was just about to send the DART crew packing for, in his opinion, lack of equipment and supplies. “I handed our crew chef my credit card and told her to go out and buy an additional refrigera- tor, another stove and enough food for 30 people to last 30 days.” Then, the veteri- narian insisted on approving the menu. Ronnie, somewhat maintaining his com- posure, complied. “We’re gonna get these animals rescued in spite of you,” he told the veterinarian. “He was a complete jack- ass. And please, quote me on that.”
Ronnie has always had big dogs. Sweet Pea, a Beagle, was his first smaller dog. She followed Linda home one day and Ronnie
said, “Find that mutt a home.” By the sec- ond week, Ronnie said, “Stop looking. She’s found a home.” Years later, when she developed severe spinal pain, Linda and Ronnie took her to the University of Florida College of Veterinary Medicine for diagnosis and treatment. “I told the doctor, money does not matter. Fix my dog. But the doctor told me money didn’t matter. They found seven lesions on Sweet Pea’s spine. No amount of money could fix her.” Ronnie and Linda buried Sweet Pea
in the backyard of their Florida home. Inconsolable, he and Linda drove to their North Carolina mountain home, and his sister Valerie came in from New York to stay with them. That night, Ronnie had a very vivid dream. “Sweet Pea was speaking to me in a human voice, sure as you and I are talking now. She told me that there was nothing that could be done to save her, and that she understood. She knew that we had done all that we could, and she was thankful. She said there was an older, sick- ly Beagle that needed my help, right away, at the shelter in Macon County. I woke up the following morning and announced to Linda and Valerie that I was heading into town to pick up a Beagle at the shelter.” Linda reminded him that they already had five dogs. “Yep, they thought I'd lost my mind, especially after they heard the details of my dream.” Ronnie explained to the shelter man-
ager exactly what he was looking for. She brought out a young, healthy adorable Beagle, full of energy. When Ronnie told her that was not the Beagle he was there for, emphasizing he was looking for an older one, she asked, “How did you know we had a sick old Beagle here?” Ronnie told her about his dream, and she looked at him as if he had just grown two more heads. “She returned to the lobby with the
most pathetic looking little Beagle I had ever seen. That dog looked like she was a hundred years old. Every inch of her was covered in some kind of yeast infection. She was severely underweight. But, she walked right over to me and stood up on my leg.” Ronnie looked down at a spot on the dog’s head. She had a marking that was the color of honey, and told her, “Your name is Honey Bear, and you’re going home with me.”
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