They seek out tasks no one wants to do: Pull up germy carpets, dig weeds out of mortar-like soil, clean greasy ovens - all for nonprofit agencies in need.

 

The squeamish would run away and never come back.

But not the Direct Impact Response Team - aka DIRT - United Way of Treasure Valley's underground team of elite guerrilla volunteers.

"The dirtier a job is, the riskier, the better," said head dirtclod Neva Geisler - and note that in this context, "dirtclod" is a title of honor. "A good cut, a hazard wound, earns a high-five."

Between 20 to 30 dirtclods converge on a single project once a month. It all takes place in a workweek lunch-hour - "during the time most people would be ordering take-out," Geisler said.

"It's remarkable to watch it," she said. "It's like a plague of locusts."

The group's Web site reaches out to other would-be superheroes who remember the cartoons of their childhood: "If you're busy and overcommitted, but you secretly wish that the Justice League was real and that you were on it, DIRT's for you."

Holly Sue Kerns is a marketing director at Blackfin Technologies in Boise and a DIRT devotee. She calls herself a "car camper" rather than a "real camper" and is no fan of filth. Despite that, plus a work schedule riddled with deadlines and unpredictability, she has missed just one DIRT projects in the last year.

"What I love is that every time we work with a new agency, I learn what they do and how they influence the community," Kerns said. "I never realized what all those canned food drives were really about or knew much about the programs that feed children at lunch and breakfast. When you immerse yourself in someone's dirty laundry, you understand them better. You feel like you're in the middle of it.

"I've been involved with a lot of volunteer groups where you spend so much time and never see the results."

Kerns helped on one of DIRT's most infamous projects - hauling beds out the the Rescue Mission's infirmary, where a sign, "What you need to know about tuberculosis," hung in plain sight. The dirtclods donned face masks to peel old carpet off the floor and haul it away. Then they sterilized the beds and put them back.

 

"DIRT should be a model for the rest of the country," said Glenn Compton, volunteer coordinator at the Rescue Mission, and a big DIRT fan.

The dirtclods have done a few dirty jobs for the mission's three shelters in Boise and Nampa. Along with the infirmary carpet-removal, DIRT laid pavers to create a bike storage area, built a bike rack out of scrap lumber and recruited volunteers from George's Cycles and Fitness to repair residents' bikes. DIRT also helped the mission move to the former Community House from Downtown Boise.

"It was amazing how fast they worked and they had a good time doing it," Compton said.

Residents of the mission's recovery program worked alongside the dirtclods to get the projects done.  

"Everyone looks the same when they're working," Geisler said. "You can't tell who's homeless and who isn't. That's good both ways - for us and them."

DIRT was born in a United Way brainstorming session in February 2007.

 

(In addition to leading the dirtclods, she is United Way's volunteer center director.)

But a year later, DIRT is still a work in progress. It operates without a budget. The nonprofits being helped get the work sites ready, and dirtclods often "pass the hat" to buy materials.

At first, Geisler and the others wanted to keep the group small, and keep its projects on the stealth side. Think a Justice League of good works.

"Part of it was that the work we do really isn't for everyone," she said. "And we wanted the group to be manageable in its growth."

The planning takes some finesse. Some job sites are too far away from Boise to be practical for a lunch hour. Some sites don't have enough physical space for two or three dozen people to work at one time.

Originally, Geisler and the others had expected DIRT to attract mainly professionals in their 20s through 40s. But the group's demographic became a pleasant surprise - dirtclods come in all ages, from college students to retirees.

"We realized we shouldn't keep this to ourselves. It's a gem," Geisler said.

So DIRT is looking for volunteers, those who are not put off by sweat, or grime, or the odd germ, or fun in the guise of hard work.

Geisler recalled a project last year on a hot July day. Twenty members of DIRT converged on the Boys & Girls Club to shovel rocks out of planters at the front of the building.

"We finished up and a few of us jumped in the river with our clothes on," she said. "DIRT is authentic. It's not a networking deal. It's the opportunity to have a shared experience with people."