Hurricanes are a way of life in Florida, and though I spent 6 years as a part time Floridian, the innate reaction of excitement and survival during hurricane season never really went away.
Gainesville has the benefit of being ideally located for hurricanes, so I've never seen the news reel caliber destruction up close and personal.
On Saturday, 4 of us drove to Panama City to help out at St. Dominic Catholic Church (about 8 miles from Tyndall AFB). Even though they suffered a fair amount of damage, they have become a distribution center for hurricane relief. The 3 Catholic schools in Gainesville collected supplies last week that were hand-delivered by our little group. One F-250 packed to the brim and one Subaru crossed the threshold of normalcy into the post-apocalyptic scene. There is a lot for me to unpack from yesterday, so this is only Part 1.
Once we passed Tallahassee, it didn't take long for the landscape to change. Trees were stripped of their branches, tree trunks that had been cut by chainsaws lined I-10, pine trees were completely uprooted. The damage grew more personal once we exited. Houses completely surrounded by branches and trees. Roofs covered in tarps. Neighbors working together to clear driveways. Power lines stretching across the road. Two-lane roads reduced to one as cherry pickers made repairs. We saw one of those trucks that normally carries logs carrying the utility poles to replace the ones that were bent over or ripped out of the ground. It had its own police escort.
Signs were stripped of their banners. Letters above storefronts had flown across the street. A Winn-Dixie was closed but had a power station for people to come charge their electronics. We found one restaurant open who, along with serving the public, had a daily schedule of boxed lunches to prepare for different law enforcement and disaster relief agencies.
Metal sheets of roofing were wrapped around trees like tin foil. Chain link fences warped like they were still waving in the wind. We had no idea what we would find when we arrived at the church. We didn't even know if there was still one standing.
There are too many stories and moments to retell all in one sitting. The important thing for me to convey though was...well, I don't really know what it is. Beauty? Hope? Perseverance? The natural desire people feel to connect as a community?
The level of efficiency was impressive. Volunteers coded people's windshields so that we knew how many people they needed supplies for, if they needed kid supplies, if they had pets, etc. There was a center section of shade tents set up, each dedicated to a different need: water, baby food, toiletries, plates/utensils, etc.
The one story I'll share right now is from very early in our day at St. Dominic. We had unloaded the donations, parked the cars, and found 2 adjacent tents to help out in. My friend and I found ourselves at the pet food tent. Now, I like animals, but as the volunteers teaching us were showing us where the cat food was and that we were out of dog food but here are the treats, I couldn't help but think, "Really? Pet food? I couldn't hand out useful supplies like soap or water?" But I silently and halfheartedly chastised myself and started giving the cars with pets their food.
I'll never forget this one car, the first of many to react like this, pulling up to see what we had. "Hi! We're currently out of dog food, but here are some extra dog treats for you guys."
Shock. Relief. Gratitude. "Oh thank you so much! This is a huge help."
All this for a bag of dog treats?
And it hit me with a powerful wave of humility: these people were trying to feed their families, maintain basic hygiene, who knows where they were sleeping. To have a detail like their pet taken care of was a huge relief to them. Kids can learn that life is going to be different for a little while, but a hungry dog isn't going to stop barking.
In that moment, I got over myself. My pride and presumptive tendencies were stripped away, and I never again assumed to know these people's needs. Instead I remembered that this was now mission territory and for a few hours, it was my mission. I was there to love these people, give them a big smile, and lighten the load even in the smallest of ways. Because a lot of people chipping in a little bit makes a big difference.
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