I’VE NEVER seen a disaster that had too much help before. Then again, I’ve never seen a disaster like Greensburg, either.
The images still stun me. An entire town, all but erased from the map. Fire and flood and terrorists put together could not have destroyed Greensburg more thoroughly than that one single tornado. It wasn’t a town anymore — it was rubble with a street grid.
Naturally, our church wanted to help. Naturally, everyone else had the same idea. Before our drive even got started, our pastor had to postpone it. The warehouses were full. There was no room for all the help that was arriving.
“The problem is that currently it is national news and things have been coming in from everywhere,” he wrote us.
What a problem to have, huh?
I shouldn’t be surprised. Something like Greensburg strikes at the gut of all of us. That’s especially true for those of us in the Midwest, who understand something that the rest of the television audience may have missed.
This could so easily have been us.
Many disasters can be prevented or contained, at least in theory. A terrorist threat can be met with increased security. Nuclear plants can hold safety drills and inspections to prevent accidents. You can build levees against floods, reduce fire risks, or get a few days’ warning to evacuate from a hurricane’s path.
But there’s not much anyone can do about a tornado.
One of the few things I can think of that compares for sheer destructiveness and unpredictability is an earthquake. But earthquakes at least have fault lines. A tornado can pop up almost anywhere, with very little warning.
And, when they do, they can steal homes, businesses, lives, communities. Every town and city in the Midwest exists on sufferance, with no guarantee that today’s peaceful lifestyle will be here tomorrow.
But then, when has that ever been guaranteed to anyone? Maybe we’re just a little more aware of it than most.
Events like the Greensburg tornado just bring that awareness to center stage.
It’s not a bad awareness to have. Not the way it’s done out here, anyway. Out here, it doesn’t mean living in fear, but living prepared for the worst. It means being ready to help your neighbor today because you may need that help tomorrow.
Maybe it even puts things in perspective. When you realize how quickly everything around you could be gone, other problems tend to dwindle a bit.
“There, but for the grace of God, go I.” That sentiment was written on the faces of almost everyone I met last week. I’d be willing to bet that more than one person was visualizing an uprooted Emporia, with homes, factories and even roundabouts nothing more than a memory.
It does make you think.
Sooner or later, the television cameras will leave Greensburg. Sooner or later, the attention of the world will focus on some fresh disaster; an Indian tsunami, say, or a plane crash in Rome. Sooner or later, the stores in the warehouse will start to dwindle.
But Greensburg will still have neighbors. All over Kansas and the Midwest. And I’m betting its neighbors will remember.
The right thing to do remains the right thing to do, even when nobody’s watching. In fact, that’s usually when it’s appreciated most.
Keep those helping hands ready. They will be needed.
A tornado razed Greensburg. But all of us together can raise it up again.
Scott Rochat’s e-mail address is rochat@emporiagazette.com.
barbara61 (anonymous) says...
God bless you Greensburg, You will rise taller and stronger with the help of our LORD.
May 19, 2007 at 4:27 p.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )