From our house, we could see the dark line of the tornado move across Clarksville, without understanding the impact it was having on families in our community. We knew what was happening on the weather reports, and had to assume that things were not good, but couldn’t imagine that reality.
Today I was able to volunteer for the cleanup in an area that was in the direct path. There were many (definitely hundreds of neighbors if not more) who showed up at the Mosaic Church to pitch in with whatever was needed.
I have to write about some personal feelings and observations that occurred during the hours I spent working. As our house, friends and family were virtually untouched I had to do something; I really just thought I would be raking some junk up.
Man, was I wrong.
We were filling trash bags and piling debris…and I found a jacket, a military bag…then a prescription bottle…and I paused.
Before I reached this area, I had been moving limbs and random pieces of wood, odd pieces of insulation and shingles. It was grabbing and piling whatever was in front of me. Just working at the task assigned to the group that had been dropped by a CMCSS bus; they had provided shuttles to the sites.
After I turned the personal items over to some of the organizers, I again ducked my head and went to work. But was aware of pictures, personal notebooks and other items that were being turned in just after.
Then I found some baby socks…then a small hospital band – the kind your child wears home after birth…then under some sheetrock, the parents band from the same event….a birth notice…a card from some occasion…memories that people kept in boxes…
….I carried them to an area that has been designated for the personal items we found and placed them with others….a small pair of sunglasses…nail polish…
…and I stopped.
And, I looked around at what I was really doing. I wasn’t cleaning debris from my neighbor’s house. I was picking up pieces of people’s lives. Even those shingles or tiniest pieces of torn insulation had been someone’s house just a few days ago. When you think about the violence that had put these things all over the ground, and you see the remnants of those homes…man.
I found myself having to take deep breaths as I thought about what it must have been like to be in some of these homes. One untouched, one with no roof…the next with barely enough structure to have protected the family inside.
Man…oh man.
My heart cracked for those who lost family members. And to those who will have journeys back to health, journeys back to sleeping at night. This will be in my past quickly, but it is far from over for others.
What I also saw when I looked up; how great people really are at heart. Our community had come together on short notice and was working together to do what they could.
There was no hierarchy, no religious obstacles….no political walls…good people. Just humans grabbing a hold of things together, helping each other get our town back on its feet!
Then I put my head back down and carried bags of debris to the curb. But I did it with a different perspective about what was being accomplished. And definitely why.
I eventually reached my physical limit (felt a bit ashamed for quitting today) and I got back on the bus; rode to the pickup/drop off point.
The driver, I wish I had picked up her name, thanked each of us for our time; as did everyone we passed. And I thanked them too.
I made it home…washed my clothes and put them out where I could find them in the morning so I can make that trek again…and again…until we are not needed.
Topwater Moon 