This past weekend, we had the opportunity to be warned and prepared for a possible natural disaster. We had time to gather the necessary items and were braced for the worst case scenario. Although, the most that occurred in our immediate area were a few downed limbs and small power outages. We had warning, we were prepared and we survived perhaps the dullest hurricane warning in a long time.
However, this was not the case for five southern states this past April. A tornado watch suddenly appeared., alerting residents to the possible dangers that were unpredictably speeding towards them. Tornadoes do not necessarily follow a direct path as our hurricane or nor'easters tend to do. These people did not have a lot of notice to prepare themselves, gather their information, loved ones, food, gas, batteries and so on.
I watched the news, and was saddened by what I saw once the news crews could get the images out to the nation. What increased my sorrow however was the seemingly lack of response for assistance, compassion, and volunteerism towards our own countrymen. True, Osama bin Laden was captured, the was a tsunami in Japan, and the Royal Wedding that made headlines shortly after the tornadoes. But there were still people without homes, clothing, food, and loved ones to bury in our own country. FEMA appeared as did the insurance companies and Red Cross at first, the agencies do no stay long, nor is their assistance generous. The majority of Americans were burnt out on charity it appeared.
I connected with groups based in Alabama who were assisting people in the disaster cleanup and restoration. The larger cities were fairing better than the smaller towns. The smaller towns, as we well know, do not have the budget to deal with large catastrophes. I followed what was going on for four months until I could fly down there myself and give my time and labor to help these people rebuild. On August 10th, I landed in Birmingham, Alabama, as my plane taxied the runway to the terminal, I saw a building that looked like a Salvador Dali painting, but it was real. It was torn in half, and the pieces that remained looked as if they were slowly melting in the southern sun.
It was just the beginning of eye opening week long experience in the Heart of Dixie. As I drove to my hotel, I saw a tall highway lamppost that had been pulled up, twisted as though through a metal roller, and deposited on the grass area of the freeway. As I settled into my hotel and explored my surroundings, I felt at ease. Southern hospitality includes friendliness, good manners, courteousness, humbleness and a genteelness that seems to make encounters with others very pleasant.
The next day, I contacted Andrea Pate, who headed up the Freewill Baptist Disaster Relief in Cordova, Alabama. She told me to come right on over, and she could put me to work. I drove through the town, the entire downtown section of Cordova had been lifted up and put down again, in a way that would not allow for rebuilding. The small businesses were closed, and the buildings would have to be imploded upon themselves. The grocery store in this small town was demolished, as was the bank, gas station and police station. The nearest places for these people to get services was 16 miles north in Jasper. The bank vault is all that remained standing of the bank, and the bank moved into a trailer type of facility, as did the police station. Many homes were removed from their foundations, or roofs torn off, large trees on top of houses, leaving many families homeless.
When I met Andrea, I found a woman on a mission. Her home was not destroyed, but she was determined to help out her fellow citizens, and rebuild life in the town of Cordova. She came up with the idea to take homes that were abandoned in the town, contact the owners, and negotiate a remodel in exchange for one years free rent for tornado survivors. After which time, it would be up to the owner and the tenant to negotiate an agreement. She sent me out to one home to work with another group of volunteers who had come down from Connecticut to chip away mortar from the cinder blocks of a destroyed garage to take to another site for another project. It was hard, tedious work. But it was meaningful and rewarding also. The next day, I showed up a little better prepared. I purchased some tools the night before at WalMart. Again, I chipped away mortar, this time on bricks from a crumbled chimney to be used as a walkway for another home that was almost completed. As Andrea became too busy to remember what she had me doing, I began loading the bricks into the trunk of my rental car, and moving them over to the house, small loads at a time until I had completed the brick walkway. Another day, I helped move 2x10's so the roofers could cover roof of the historic landmark in town, and preserve it from being further damaged. Another day, I went to Pratt City, and volunteered with a group called the Alabama Bloggers. Again, an online connection. We helped people get food, clothing, personal care and house cleaning items.
I met many wonderful people during my adventure, heard stories that will stay with me a lifetime, had a lot of good laughs, shed some tears, and lots of hugs. My hope in sharing this story is that we will all realize that one person can make a difference. Whether it is local or not, if your heart is tugging at you to reach out, listen and stretch yourself. You will have an amazing experience.
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