Map
An interactive map of tasks, hubs and hazards with address search and drawing tools, so a coordinator can see the whole response at a glance and create work right where it is needed.
Built in Orange, Texas by people who have run a response out of a church parking lot with a clipboard and a dying phone. Free for residents, free for volunteers, free for every agency working beside us.
The problem
Within 48 hours of a major storm there are more willing hands than there are ways to point them at the right door. Requests arrive as Facebook comments, texts to a volunteer's personal number, and handwritten notes that get rained on.
Meanwhile a volunteer with a tractor sits idle because nobody knew he had a tractor. A woman on oxygen goes three days unvisited because her road off the highway didn't make it onto anyone's list. Two crews show up to the same house while the next block waits a week.
This is not a shortage of goodwill. It is a data problem wearing a disaster costume.
The approach
Every request becomes a task on a map with a priority, a time window, and a list of what it actually takes to finish: the skills, the resources, and the companions.
Volunteers list theirs once. Tasks ask for the same vocabulary. The map does the rest.
Working today
An interactive map of tasks, hubs and hazards with address search and drawing tools, so a coordinator can see the whole response at a glance and create work right where it is needed.
Response hubs classified by type — fire department, church, nonprofit, business — and by the services they offer: food, medical, communications, drop-off, charging. Each has a dashboard with weather, roster, storage and deliveries.
A live activity stream over WebSockets. When a volunteer joins a task, a hub opens, or a situation changes, everyone sees it immediately.
Volunteer profiles organized around Skills, Resources and Companions, with equipment quantities and travel availability, so dispatch stops being a guess.
Development timeline
Six phases. Two are done. Here's the rest — and what each one costs.
The skeleton everything else hangs on: accounts and sessions, a mobile-first shell with four tabs, a live map, and real-time sync so two coordinators never work from different truths.
The matching engine, and the vocabulary that makes it work. Registration was cut to the essentials so a volunteer can sign up standing in a driveway; everything else moved into the profile.
Everything that separates a demo from a tool you can trust at hour six of a deployment, when the towers are congested, the battery is at 11%, and nobody has time to read a manual.
Out of the pilot and into the app stores, in the languages Southeast Texas actually speaks, usable by someone with one hand free and a cracked screen.
A response involves a dozen organizations that each keep their own list. The app is only worth what it can share, so this phase is about opening it up rather than walling it in.
The hardest days are the ones with no cell service at all. This is the work that makes the app useful before a storm and during the blackout, not only after.
Why donors fund software
Software is the least photogenic thing we do and one of the highest-leverage. A crew that is routed well finishes three houses in the time a guessing crew finishes one. A hub that knows its own inventory stops turning people away for water it has in the back.
And because we give it away, every dollar you put into the build also funds the church two counties over that will never be on our payroll or our roster.
We're choosing field-beta partners now, starting in Orange County and working outward — churches, fire departments, VOADs and community groups who will use it for real and tell us where it breaks.