Editor's note: Reporter/photographer Paul Dunn is traveling with a group of Greenville men delivering relief supplies and providing assistance to the area near Thibodaux, La. This is a report on their third day in the field.

THIBODAUX, La. – Despite growing frustration over the pace and substance of the disaster relief effort here, members of Greenville's Cajun Country Convoy kicked themselves into high gear on Monday to help victims of Hurricane Katrina.

The Greenville men – Dick Carney, 66, of Peace Presbyterian Church; Randy Riddle, 50, of Hollywood Presbyterian Church; Danny Gonzalez, 50, of Covenant United Methodist Church and Homer Tyre, 24, of The Memorial Baptist Church – were partially hampered Monday by President Bush's trip to the Gulf Coast.

Security concerns all but shut down relief missions within a 25-mile radius of the president's entourage, said Jay Cafasso, who is overseeing logistics for the Thibodaux-based religious relief effort, dubbed J2K.

Several members of the convoy were poised to accompany other relief workers into New Orleans on Monday, but were grounded by the president's visit.

The quartet has worked the past couple of days inside the Thibodaux Fireman's Fair Office and Warehouse, which is being used to store donated supplies. Because of the need there, they have been unable to pursue relief missions to nearby hard-hit areas, such as Houma and Grand Isle, both on the Gulf Cost.

And though they're ready for other challenges, the men have toiled with intensity and good humor inside the 40-by-100 brick and corrugated tin building. The Greenville men were called to Thibodaux at the request of the Rev. Bill Crawford of Thibodaux First Presbyterian Church.

Crawford is helping coordinate the joint undertaking between Catholic Community Services and Presbyterian churches affiliated with the Presbyterian Disaster Relief agency.

Since arriving in this southeast Louisiana bayou town of 14,200 on Saturday afternoon, Greenville's relief workers have unloaded supplies, built four 32-foot-long shelving units and stacked and sorted mountains of food, clothing, paper products, tools, cleaners and other items intended for Katrina's victims. Monday, the men united their muscles and brains for the ultimate warehouse push.

The result: "God's Depot South," a Cajun Country Convoy grocery store. They'd decided Monday morning to spend their day stocking the plywood shelving units they'd built the day before, but before they were 30 minutes into their job, Riddle had an idea.

"I know. Let's arrange the food like it was a grocery store," he told the others. "Just think of yourselves as grocery clerks."

Without so much as a dirty word or blink of an eye, the three other men got to it. Soon, the place was an indoor farmer's market waiting to happen.

"I've got corn. I've got carrots. I've got peas, and I've got yams," Riddle sing-songed as he stacked canned vegetables.

Before you knew it, his buddies were needling him, laughing as they did.

"Hey," Riddle responded. "Just call me ‘the grocery store stock boy Nazi.' ”

Little by little, back and leg muscles by back and leg muscles, the shelves began to fill.

A fortress of stacked soup cans anchored the middle of one shelf, an equally impressive barricade of canned vegetables another. Bulk cans occupied their own places of distinction – peas, carrots, soup, ketchup.

Other food species, though lonely in their separateness, were more distinctive: A can of "Robert Rothschild Farm Onion Blossom Horseradish Dip" sat segregated on the shelf, as did a can of "Olde Cape Cod Gourmet Lobster Bisque."

Nearby, 32 cans of sardines in soybean oil waited for a lucky recipient, as did one can of "Tropical Red Papaya in Light Syrup."

Someone would get four packs of Spam, too – perhaps more than they bargained for.

The mere mention of the canned meat, called "Spamtabulous" by its manufacturers, elicited groans from everyone except Tyre, an ex-U.S. Marine.

"Ummm, Spam, that's some good stuff!" he said. "I love Spam."

As the men got the last of the supplies on the shelves, Gonzalez rejoiced.

"I'm kind of running on adrenaline," he said. "I'm tickled to death to get this stuff organized."

The men are hoping for a different kind of adrenaline rush, today.

They're ready to escape the Thibodaux Fireman's Fair Office and Warehouse.

"I'm just kind of dismayed by the effort, so far," Riddle said. "We've accomplished some good things, but we're ready to get out and directly help some people."

Tyre says "mental constipation" is causing the operation to drag. "I think they (organizers) have this Third World attitude here, and the situation is bad, yes, but not like that," he contended. "They're over-thinking."