Hey Mister - Stop Your Complaining
We've been living in a dusty, messy, helter skelter, stuff juggling construction zone for 5 months now without much complaining or whining. Admittedly, it still gets under our skin a teency bit now and then because we are human. We all have our limits and our personal thresholds for pain and discomfort. Then throw in a dash of frustration with the work itself . . . like the refinishing of the hardwood floors. I've got lots of experience doing all kinds of things with wood, painting, staining, faux finishing, etc., etc., but never such a big chunk at one time. I can see the light at the end of the hardwood floor tunnel, I think. When I clear that hurdle, I'll give you all my wonderful advise which consists of a lot of DON'TS and DON'T EVENS.
It's been 9 days since the F4 tornado tore up parts of Granbury (virtually our next door neighbors). Last week I had a gnawing in my stomach that I aught to go volunteer in the cleanup effort. I belong to a service organization that is supposed to be doing those kinds of things, but nothing was happening. All week I was unsettled that I had been waiting on others to take initiative to get a crew of volunteers together and go do what could be done. Then Jeannette told me that our friend Nita from church took it upon herself to drive over this week, walked up to a stranger's house that was damaged, told the people she was there to be of help, and ended up serving 2 days as an act of obedient love cleaning up rubble. I was pierced through the heart.
Time to Take a Little Side Trip
It was more like taking a little trip to the woodshed. Since Jeannette was unable to get a few women to go over today due to other pressing needs, I said I would go instead. I called the volunteer hotline number Nita passed along and was told that my help was much needed in the Mission Granbury warehouse. So, that is how my day started, where donations of clothing and all kinds of household items were being received, sorted, boxed up and processed for distribution to the victims. I was the second volunteer to arrive today at 8 am, and by 9 am there were about 20 others. It was busy like an ant hill as we moved things about trying to bring order to that warehouse which sees a whole new set of circumstances each day. Today's priority was to sort through a bunch of giant boxes on pallets from large distributors that were filled with paper goods, cleaning supplies, personal hygene items, you name it . . . all jumbled together. It was fun working together with a bunch of enthusiastic volunteers who came ready to work hard.
Nothing Like Seeing It For Yourself
During our lunch break, someone asked me if I had been down to "the site." I said no, assuming that security was tight and people had to have special clearances to get in and get their hands dirty. They replied, "No, you can just go in and show up." As I finished eating my sack lunch, I realized that I couldn't finish the whole day just doing that. I needed to do what Nita did and get down there. Heck, I know all about moving demo debris piles. That's what I do nowadays.
So I asked for directions to "the site,'' which was about 3 miles away from the warehouse. I was told "you'll know it when you see it." Dang, he was right. First I came upon some debris here and there, then BAM!, a whole neighborhood smashed to smithereenes! I could see dozens and dozens of work trucks, and hundreds of orange shirted volunteers scattered about in groups of about 10 working this giant landfill, which used to be streets and houses. In spite of the fact that Moore, Ok had a much worse tornado, this was bad enough for these eyes. It was really sad. The news video we see each day doesn't capture the punch in the gut you feel.
Don't Ask For Permission - Just Do It
I drove around the perimeter and stopped at a "once was house" and went up and started working. The pile of debris was a mobile home that had been lifted and tossed about 80 yards from its original spot, landing in a neighbor's back yard.
Sadly, this was one of the home's with a fatality. Some of the orange people had rakes and shovels, while the rest of us sifted through rubble like archaeologists at a dig site. Every effort was taken to search for ANYTHING that was a keepsake or of value like jewelry. All furniture, appliances, clothes, etc. were basically non-existent. Just a big pile of little pieces of this and that. Nothing was in tact.
I was humbled by the sympathy among the diggers hoping desperately to find the lady's wedding ring, or anything that would preserve memories. We heard that the lady who perished lost her husband 5 years ago, and that he had been a coin collector. When a few of those collector's coins were found, we rejoiced as if we had struck gold. Maybe we did. 
No comments:
Post a Comment