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Everyone Knows Someone

Everyone knows someone.  We know people who are grieving because they will never again hug someone they loved.  They mourn the death of their child or parent or niece or cousin or friend.

            Everyone knows someone whose home was destroyed.  Whose home was blown away.  Who walks among the rubble where their house once stood.  Whose beds and pillows and pictures and Bibles were carried miles away.  Who have said, “I’m okay. None of us are hurt. We are blessed.”  

            Everyone knows one of the first helpers.  A neighbor whose home was left standing and gave immediate shelter to others. Who wrapped towels around bleeding wounds.  Who held a frightened, crying child.  Who put shoes on bare feet. 

            Everyone knows a paramedic or deputy or fireman who was a first responder, trained to give emergency medical care. Who worked non-stop through the early morning hours, through the day, and into the next night.  Who carried victims.  Those who said, “I’ll never be able to erase the pictures from my head.  It was horrific.”

            We all received phone calls and texts from out-of-town family and friends and were asked, “Are you okay?”  I answered, “Yes. We’re okay.”  More questions led to my explaining that our home and our families’ homes aren’t near where the tornado hit. When I talked by phone with a close friend she heard my deep breath and asked, “But what?”

            Jessica was a Capshaw student and I’ve known her parents for 40 years.  From my teaching days, I remember Jessica as a 4th grader. A happy little girl with a big smile and who was everybody’s friend.  Although, our paths rarely crossed during recent years, I recognized Jessica at city hall where she was the receptionist.  She was still smiling. She served her community as a fair board volunteer and was active in her church.  The tornado took her life.

            Tom and Kay are friends from Husband’s and my college days.  Tom was Son’s first basketball coach.  I taught their daughters and followed their successes through college and now as adults. Every time I’ve said to Kay, as a greeting, “How ‘r you?”, she has responded, “Better than I deserve.” Tom and Kay’s home was completely destroyed.

            Amy was one of Daughter’s junior high school friends.  Once when she was at our house, I looked out our second story window and Amy waved from her perch in a tulip poplar tree.  I forced myself to smile, pointed down, and was relieved when her feet touched the ground. Houses around Amy and her husband’s house were leveled, but theirs was spared so they sheltered neighbors before emergency workers arrived.

            Millard was Son’s school friend.  He was always respectful, always kind, as a young boy and as a teen-ager.  Millard is a paramedic.  On Facebook, he shared the prayer he said while carrying a lifeless child in his arms.             We all know someone who is suffering after last week’s tornado.  That’s why we’re not quite okay and we help whoever and however we can.

One Response

  1. Beautifully stated 😢

    Kat Rust Bobkatsr@gmail.com

    >

    Like

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