We got out into the neighborhood. Just started walking. There were many friends we hadn't heard from, and we wanted to check on them. I like to think of our area as an "unplanned" community. So very different from all the carefully structured areas so numerous in Anytown, USA. Our homes are a mish-mash of ranches, splits, splits that used to be ranches, and even a few "McMansions". Eclectic, just like the hard working people who live in them.
As we walked our streets, the extent of the loss and suffering became oh so clear. There were appliance-grade extension cords running from houses on one side of the street to the houses on the opposite side. They were sharing what they could, trying to power refrigerators, at the very least.
Hundreds of bags of garbage sat out on the curb, awaiting sanitation pick up. Much loved furniture, electronics, toys, broken and damaged, just waiting to go to their final resting place, in some anonymous garbage dump somewhere. The devastated homeowners, too tired to even move anymore were out on the street, sorting the remnants of their lives. There would be no recycling in our neighborhood today.
As we arrived at our first friends' home, we were too choked up to speak. We saw their entire lives on the street. My son' sat with their daughters and soon a game of "Trouble" ensued. AWESOME! A normal kid activity.
We sat with the grown-ups, and the mommies cried. Turns out it wasn't the storm surge that did them in. It was the overloaded sewers backing up into their house. Dear Lord!
As much as they lost, they still wanted to give. They had a generator. "Do you want to shower here?" "Do you need a ride?" "Can we take you to the grocery store?". These are good people, down but not out. We hugged and headed to other friends.
On our way, we met the exact friend we were seeking out. Her story was pretty much the same. Storm surge wiped out her basement. Her tenant had to leave. Her husband's home music recording studio was completely destroyed, but she and her family were safe. Thank god!
Our last stop for the day was yet another family of close friends. She is an elementary school guidance counselor. He is a high school gym teacher. Typical neighborhood folks. These people have been unbelievably kind and generous to us. They invited my youngest son to take private swimming lessons in their in-ground pool, free of charge, whether they were home or not. They have had us to their home for family parties and friend barbecues. Their KARMA was strong.
As we approached, we met the daddy. He was in the process of helping a neighbor syphon gas from one disabled car into other vehicles, so they would both have enough gas for a few miles. He had been through too much, yet he was still there with a smile, a hug and a helping hand.
The house, large and well furnished and beautiful, was a disaster. The downstairs apartment, where grandma lives, was destroyed. High end carpentry ripped off the walls from the surge. Granite counter tops smashed. Expensive appliances were now empty shells. And the smell was awful. Another devastation.
I had had enough. My kids were safe, my husband was safe, but I was heartbroken. We headed home, dodging fallen trees and downed electrical wires. We passed by the remnants of our neighbors lives. It was just too much.
When we got home, I retreated to my pajamas once more. Still no heat or hot water for us. Who cared? I may never leave the house again!
Oh yeah, and I cried.
What is left of my friend's recording studio
My neighbor's trash
trees
No comments:
Post a Comment