#toombsstrong

In case you missed it, my small town neck of the southern woods got absolutely hammered by Hurricane Helene on Friday,  September 27.  I've never been through an actual hurricane. We've been on the front end of a couple of strong tropical storms since returning to this area at the end of 2013.  When we lived here from 1997-2005, we never had this kind of action. This past May, there was a tornado that paid us a visit.  But a full on hurricane...nope. I'm from Michigan. No sharks, no jellyfish, no hurricanes. As much as I enjoy visiting Florida, the hurricanes and wildlife are enough to keep me on visitor status. But here I am...a resident of the State of Georgia...an INLAND resident of the State of Georgia...and I have been there and done that with a Category 1 hurricane!

Helene the Hellion's romp through our sweet, small town happened in the wee hours of that Friday morning...under the cover of THE darkest night I have ever seen. Mr. Snark said the darkest dark he's ever experienced was at sea...under a moonless, starless sky while in The Med(iterranean). I don't know if the two compare, but I am here to tell you, it was DARK. And I think that was a blessing. To see the destruction of our town's physical beauty as it was happening would have added another layer of pain to the whole thing. The hurricane's eye was just more than 40 miles to the west of us. That put us on the east side of the storm...which is the side that produces tornadoes and all the associated chaos.  I wish I had taken the time on Thursday to really drink in the loveliness of our little town because it has been changed in such a way that it almost defies description.  

One of the prettiest drives through town was Center Drive. My favorite time to drive that stretch was in the evening. Houses of different varieties were tucked in among stands of soaring, long needle pines.  No exaggeration in using the word "soaring" to describe their height.  Straight as arrows...impressive in their girth...covered in bark that has always reminded me of reptilian scales. There were also oak trees that have probably been here as long as this town has existed. Their branches stretched out so wide. Fall walks through this section of town included the popping and snapping of acorns under my feet. Some of these lots had so many trees that you really couldn't make out the full shape of the homes. But in the evening, you could see lights shining through the windows...winking at you from between the trees. It was charming. Miss Hellion produced such winds that these stands of pine trees were knocked over like pick up sticks. The huge oak trees uprooted and took enormous chunks of soil with them. Trees so large that they require professional saw crews to come in with blades bigger than those in the possession of your average homeowner. (Put a pin in that bit about blades and the average homeowner...we need to come back to that.)  And the pecan orchards! Oh, my soul...there is something so magical and elegant and quintessentially southern about a pecan orchard. The symmetry of a well maintained pecan orchard is restful and welcoming.  There are several scattered around town.  This hurricane laid them to the ground. Acres upon acres of mature, nut bearing trees laid to waste.  

I walk this area of town on a regular basis. On my first post hurricane walk, I felt like I was somewhere new. I didn't recognize the terrain. Pine straw covered sections of the sidewalk, hiding the carpet of acorns. Acorns will roll and make you think you're roller skating...I speak from experience. I live here...but felt like I had no business being on that street...viewing the damage my neighbors have experienced.  There was a sense of embarrassment. Seriously, I could feel my face turning red and not from exertion. It was as though the houses were naked people lining the street...just standing there...on display for unrestricted public viewing. The shelter and seclusion that these stands of trees had provided for so very many years was just gone.

Back to that pin....dawn broke and revealed the chaotic truth of what a Category 1 hurricane can do. I don't know how long it took for the neighborhood chainsaw gangs to get into motion, but it wasn't very long before the sawdust started flying. And let me just tell you, no time was wasted on safety gear. Now, Mr. Snark joined the party with eye and hearing protection, as well as long pants and work gloves. He's not one to even mow the grass in shorts and flip flops. I prayed for the safety of the ones operating the saws because there was NO way the ambulances were getting through. We live on one of the main drags through town...it was blocked as far as I could see...another main road connects with ours and it was blocked. It was the neighborhood chainsaw gangs who set the recovery in motion. Paths were cleared allowing folks to drive and check on friends and family because the phone signal was as fleeting as a fifth grade romance. In some cases, it meant parking and walking in because  the side roads leading into many neighborhoods were literally log jammed. Never underestimate a group of single minded men with chainsaws...even if some of them are wearing shorts and flip flops.

By Sunday, disaster relief teams were rolling into town. Units from Alabama, Kentucky, Oklahoma, Mississippi were sent in by the Southern Baptist Convention. The Red Cross, Salvation Army, and United Way were on the ground. We even had supply planes sent in by The Cajun Navy!  And the linemen! Have mercy! Crews from Alabama, Mississippi, Michigan, West Virginia and north Georgia arrived in a most welcome invasion. Every meter that our local power co-op owns was off line. Every meter in seven counties. I have never wept watching a convoy of power company bucket trucks pass me on the highway, but you better know the sight of them made me absolutely bawl like a baby. There are some things the neighborhood gangs can handle. Getting an entire county back on the grid is not one of them.  

I spent the first three days of the recovery at my dad's. Mr. Snark works at the power plant over there...stays with my dad while on shift...and was due for a string of night duty.  They needed every available hand they could get. Helene took a swipe at the Augusta area, too, but somehow...by God's sweet mercy, Daddy's house never lost power or water. We loaded up our freezer goods, secured the house as best as we could, and made our way north. I watched social media for updates about food, water, ice, gas, power restoration and shared them. Not being able to be part of the efforts to physically serve the community was hard, but I was so very proud to see it unfold. Time and circumstance have a way of altering  physical beauty...this hurricane was a heck of a circumstance. But what that storm couldn't destroy was the heart of this community.  Led by our mayor....and let's just camp here for a moment. If he wants to make a run for a second term, I don't think he's going to have any trouble getting reelected.  In the space of a few hours, he became the father of an entire municipality.  He had his own family and property to tend to, but ran headlong into the process of getting our little city back on her feet.  Several churches pulled grills of all sorts into their yards and parking lots to feed the community. Sack lunches and cases of water were taken by cars into some of the more desperate places in town. Native Vidalians, now living elsewhere, were sending in supplies from outside of Helene's reach.  The neighborhood chainsaw gangs stayed after it.  As water service was restored, local businesses were allowing folks to come by and fill their jugs from outside faucets. As electricity was reconnected, friends opened their homes to others for laundry, showers, meals, and charging of devices.  The sounds of my washer and dryer have never made me so happy as when I knew they were being used by friends in need.  Never underestimate the curative power of a hot meal. I watched life return to the eyes of my favorite mother-daughter friends with a few bites of cheese grits. Maybe it was the butter. I don't know. But they sure enough came back to themselves!

Beauty was taken from us...changed...made unrecognizable and unfamiliar. It will be a long time before those house are once again hidden behind trees...if ever. What that hurricane couldn't change is the way we love our own.  They say that a "thing of beauty is a joy forever." I hope I never forget the joy of watching the true beauty around me bloom.  We really are #toombsstrong.

(If anyone feels led to donate to the recovery efforts, you can visit this website:  www.toombsstrong.com  .)