Freedom

For the past 47 months I have driven past a point on the side of the road, oftentimes twice a day. It is a spot with a historic marker on it, and even though before yesterday I never stopped, I knew what had happened there. When I was in school (late 80's) the 60s were the last bit of history the teacher could squeeze in, albeit ineffectively. Kind of like my children barely get in the end of the Cold War. One thing they did get in, much more than I got was the civil rights movement, especially the Freedom Riders.

20110607-212327.jpg

This year marks the 50th anniversary of the bus burning incident just outside Anniston. There were multiple events staged in Anniston and Birmingham to commemorate this chapter of the movement. Whether it was truly a pivotal chapter or just another chapter is arguable, and not an argument I want to get into. To the best of my knowledge, and those around me I asked, none of the commemorative events took place at the point I pass twice a day. There were some of the remaining Freedom Riders in attendance at these events. For one or more it may have been their first return to Anniston or Birmingham, but other than a personal visit to the site I know of no events that took place here.

Did those who put on the commemorative events slight the sight by not returning to it? The 14th of May was the last "cool snap" we've had in Alabama, our next cold front isn't scheduled until October, it was only 74, so it should not have been the weather. Can anyone imagine a September 11, 2001 commemorative event in 2051 being done at 42nd and Broadway instead of just off of West St? What message does this send out? We want to remember the events, but don't want to be inconvenienced by actually going to the remote spots where nothing is?

When I was in high school my teachers rushed the Civil Rights Movement. It was the end of the year, they were out of time with too much curriculum to teach, and most of them (from the South) had grown up and learned in segregated environments, not like the integrated schools I did. Not that it wasn't an important subject, just that perhaps it was still too sensitive and too fresh on their minds. On the other hand, my children discussed this a great deal in their school, and I could not be happier.

For my part, I got all the lesson I needed as I drove off from the marker. Four kids, teenaged by the looks, had come out to the field adjacent to the marker, in the area between the old AL 202 and the new AL 202. They were riding four-wheelers, laughing and having a good time. None of them seemed to care that the group had a mix of race. All I saw was four Alabama teenagers, enjoying a hot afternoon in early June. Perhaps I saw someone's dream.

The Bright Side of Destruction

The storms of last week still seem to dominate the attention of all in my neck of the woods. While I did not plan on having multiple posts linking the tornadoes of 27 Apr to Hurricane Katrina, I appear to be doing it once more. Yesterday I read a blurb that said Alabama had done in a week for tornado victims what it took six months to do after Katrina. This morning I read several articles and blogs that highlighted small wonders of the storm and aftermath. Small wonders are nice, but this is only the beginning of them. The tip of the iceberg if you're into clichés. Because it is still too early to see the bigger picture from this storm, I will share an example from my family and Katrina.

Prior to the hurricane, my cousin had a job in a casino restaurant. He had maxed out his pay scale and after a bad night when he had been given more responsibilities, the supervisor said he would never get another shot. So, basically he was as high as he could ever get, making as much as he could ever make. Not a bad thing, but no possibility for upward movement. His casino was devastated by the storm. When things got back to operating (not to normal mind you) he got a job at a land based restaurant, making more than he had been previously. He didn't like the place that much and took a job at Lowe's, making more money, where they were taking everything from the left side of the store and putting it on the right, and vice versa. After several nights of nothing to do and his boss telling him to just hide until his shift was over, he left that job. The next week he interviewed for a job with the first casino to reopen, and got another job, just like he had before, except this one: 1) paid more than Lowe's, 2)had upward mobility, which he was able to take, and 3) ended up being much closer to where he lived, which was very handy when gas prices spiked a few years later. He wasn't looking for better, but it found him.

Even the town I grew up in is better than it was pre-storm. One of my last employers was a municipality in Alabama that was founded by carpetbaggers in the early 1880s. It was 125 years old, and the state of its infrastructure was bad. Crumbling in spots. Biloxi was founded in 1699, way over twice as old (plus no carpetbaggers) and yet its infrastructure is much better shape. You get that when you have to rebuild the town every four to five decades, but that's not the point. Everything is better after the storm. You can't and don't see it while you're in it, but it is. It will be.

His is one of many stories I know. They contrast with what was lost, but taken as a whole, I do not know any person that went through Katrina that is not now in a much better place for it. Share your stories, you won't have to think hard. There is a bright side to destruction, it is Romans 8:28.

Related Articles

View of the eyewall of Hurricane Katrina taken...

Not Alabama's Katrina

This past Wednesday's storms in Alabama have become the most deadly tornadoes in Alabama's history. Over 250 confirmed dead, still over 500 unaccounted for in Tuscaloosa alone. Still at least 40,000 without power, expectations that some will be without power until next week. Power lines down, houses crushed, cars thrown about and missing, pets missing, loved ones gone, there is nothing good about what happened, yet.

But for all its destruction, the event was no Katrina. Locally the damage was equal, fatality-wise it greatly exceeded (more on a par with Camille), but there is one huge aspect that this storm does not share with the windy bitch. Katrina-type damage is not merely the widespread destruction of property, belongings, and deaths, but one where everyone is in the same exact boat. Tornadoes have the ability to cause destruction like hurricanes, but their path is minimized. Yes, it's odd to say that a mile wide path over 80 miles long is minimized, but when compared to the damage of a hurricane, it is. In the coverage of every tornado there are pictures, and at least one reporter who comments about how one side of the street was completely destroyed while the other side was untouched. For the most part, this storm did not leave many streets untouched, however, there remains people who are going about their normal lives as if it has not happened. Some went to work, some went on vacation, I live on a lake that had at least one fishing tournament on it. I saw the truck and trailers on my way to help someone without power and storm damage. Fast food restaurants were open, for lunch the couple I went to help provided hamburgers from Burger King (I was expecting canned spaghetti served cold). Normality has continued. Sure the talk at work centered on how people were, did you get damage, what are you doing to help? But the talk went on at work. At least 2 music and art festivals went on mere miles from areas under National Guard enforced curfews.

After Katrina, everyone was working, but no one was at work. Your house was damaged, your job location was damaged, the corner convenience store was damaged, the grocery store was damaged, Wal-Mart was damaged. Nothing escaped the storm, and even if it did, everyone was so busy picking up the pieces of their own lives that no one was expected to be at work as usual. The word normal took on a new meaning. Even if they had opened up, no one could deliver new products, no new food, no new gas. No one could buy a new designer suit and shoes from the cute boutique in downtown because even if there was still a road beneath the debris, there was no downtown.

Many would say that the events of this storm changed them and the way they feel about what God can do. I do not. My Katrina experience did. I know what God can do. It does not amaze me how temporary what we build is. This is not to say I am unawed by the destruction. This is not to say I am unmoved by the damage. All I am saying is that I finally realized the ephemeral, transitory nature of our impact on this world.

On 29 August 2005, I heard a man on the radio say, "It's worse than Camille." My first thought was, "No it's not. You do not know what you are talking about." As the day wore on and the destruction became more clear I conceded that the man, whether he knew it or not, was correct. This was not a matter that mere pictures or video could relay. It took standing on the ground, surrounded by 360 degrees of destruction for as far as the eye could see--even over the water--to truly grasp the enormity of it. It was/is this immersion in the power of the Almighty's hand in wiping out not only our fleeting attempts at change, but His own work of geology, geography, and botany that changed my outlook on all I see. That is what the phrase "like Katrina" means to me.

It is not a simple show of destructive force. It is not a simple swath of damage. It is a mind alternating, view changing, epiphany of a glimpse into the will of God. Strong words, for a strong adjective. Anything less would be like describing World War II as a disagreement between a few people. It would be like saying that someone knocked down the World Trade Center a few years ago. Accurate statements? Yes, but do they convey the depth of emotions or the complete range of actions? Never, not even close.

I was moved by Hurricane Katrina. I was changed in a way that I cannot be changed back. I no longer need to be reminded of God's destructive power because I carry a constant reminder. After being engulfed in Katrina I cannot look at anything the same again. Big events like storms, fires, floods, small events like recessions and political elections, even mundane events like a lone driver with a flat tire as I drive to work. The power of God, the opportunity for His will shine forth in everything after seeing the transitory nature of our best efforts. 

No, this was not Alabama's Katrina. Or was it? I can only hope.

Update: After Hurricane Katrina, the state of Alabama put into place a system whereby the official death toll of a natural disaster would not exceed the actual total as normally happens (and alluded to in my previous post). A doctor or medical examiner are the only people who can elevate the death toll, as a result many people were not counted until the day after the storms. When this post was first written, the death toll was over 250, as of the morning of 3 May, it is at 236. The more things change, the more they stay the same. It may be cliché, but it is still true. // <![CDATA[ var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-24249479-2']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']);</p> <p> (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); // ]]</p></div>

Tornadoes, Pop Tarts, and Canned Spaghetti

Yesterday, my home state experienced a bad weather day. Very bad. As of the time I am writing this, the fatality toll is well over a hundred, nearing a hundred-fifty. Oftentimes in such a wide-spread disaster event the death toll will rise and begin to fall as things are sorted out. This number is nowhere near a peak yet. None of my comments will be trying to make light of those deaths or the destruction. Remember that as you read. Among the reports I have heard yesterday and today have been comments of this having been a historic storm and eye witnesses who have said that they have never seen destruction on this scale. Every storm, whether natural or man-made is a historic storm. It will never be repeated, and should never be repeated. I chalk that one up to someone who is trying to use fifty-cent words to sound more intelligent. Some people think I do that, but those who talk to me on a regular basis know I write like I talk, and I talk like an arrogant prick who uses big words, only I use them because they are more precise. Because I can justify it proves the label, but I did not hold the words against the speaker.

The second statement, however is not so. To those who say that they have not seen destruction on this scale I say, you need to get out more. This is not a statement lightly made. I have witnessed first hand some destructive forces of nature. I was in Hurricane Frederic and Elena. My Katrina story is coming, but I was there to retrieve my mother, father, sister, and nephew 5 days after it hit. I saw things that no one ever imagined being destroyed that were destroyed. There is not one second where I would claim to have seen the most destruction or the worst destruction. What I have seen is enough damage and destruction to know what it is like to see it, experience it, be immersed in it, and to come out stronger because of it.

When a hurricane is coming, seasoned residents cut their grass the day before. The really seasoned ones have an ax in the attic. You just cannot tell when you may again be able to cut the grass after the storm so you cut it beforehand. During the storm you call everyone you know to check on them. The power goes out but the phone still works. You hang up with one person and call another. It is just what you do. It sounds dumb, but it is what you do. The first night after the storm, your whole neighborhood eats like a king. Steaks, chicken, pork chops, deer, vegetables, everything in the freezer is put on the grill. Ever had a moment when you could not give away a filet mignon? I have. Your neighbors eat like you because there is no power to keep it any longer. Again, it sounds dumb until you are in it, then it is just what you do.

The morning of 29 Aug 2005 I talked with my dad, my mom, my sister, my aunts, my uncles, my grandmother, my cousins, until about 10:30. The storm was well ashore, but it had not finished passing through Biloxi yet. After 10:30 I could only get my sister and the relatives that lived away from MS. Last I heard my parents' house had 4 feet of water in it. Then nothing. Everyone I called knew nothing. I talked to people I had not seen or heard from in 15 years. I kept everyone else informed, and started collecting water, food, tools, etc. for a relief run. Katrina hit on my sister's birthday, she was born 2 years and 2 days before me. Wednesday afternoon my dad called. I told him I was worried about him because of the 4 ft of water. He asked why, and I said, "Dad, Mom's only 5 feet tall." He said, "Whatever." Over the course of the next 2 hours I found out every one of my relatives was alive. It was the greatest birthday present I have ever received.

At that time, many people around me were incredulous that people stayed, that they were going to stay. I met a carload of people from New Orleans at our church shelter who had been wiped out three times by hurricanes and were anxious to get back home and clean up (I could only keep my parents in central Alabama for 3 days before they went back). No one seemed to understand it. I was interviewed by one of my local television stations down in Biloxi on the grounds of the Church of the Redeemer. While they filmed me, behind me was not the bell tower that had withstood Camille, Betsy, Elena, Georges, lighting, the War Between the States, etc. It was the foundation only. The bell lay amongst the ruins of the Camille memorial to the cameraman's right. I summed up all the emotion and the disbelief of others by telling the reporter: Come back and see what is here. It may be months, it may be years, but the same spirit that kept these people in their homes during this storm will rebuild this town. It will again be the jewel of the Mississippi Gulf Coast.

I have seen destruction. I have seen personal belongings destroyed. I understand the difference between seeing something and thinking, "Wow! What damage" and "How will I find my life, where will I sleep, what will I do." I do not take damage lightly, I do not take destruction flippantly. I have seen the highs and lows, I have lived the highs and lows.

Yesterdays events began early in the morning on my way to work. My town was hit with straight line winds around 6 am. Then the weather turned nice for 12 hours. Then the tornadoes came by.  After work I went to help a friend who had already re-found his totaled car and house from amongst the downed trees. Tonight after work I will look to find someone else I can help. Whether you live in Alabama or somewhere else, put aside your disbelief and wondering eyes and pitch in. Go help rebuild something even if you do not understand why someone would want to live there. In a trailer park, in the line where tornadoes blow, by a hurricane, earthquake or volcanically active area. And bring pop tarts and canned spaghetti. They taste great hot, but you can eat them cold; they clean up quick and they taste like fine dining after a day of sweating, cleaning, clearing, and getting to know the person whose house was destroyed, whose car was swept away. Connect with another human for the sake of no personal gain of your own. You will be amazed at what you will take away, and you will never again hear "historic storm" or "destruction on a scale like this" the same again.

Updated with a link I found on Twitter:

I like pictures 13, 9, 4, and 1 best. What about you?

http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2011/04/tornadoes_kill_over_200.html

Updated Update:

Tomorrow my 12-year-old is going out to help others with the Illumin8 Leadership Team of 5th and 6th Graders of First Baptist Pell City. Now she's throwing out the gauntlet, too. Who's going to take that challenge?