As I was reminded by our own weather this past weekend, it has been six years since the name "Katrina" came to mean something more than a version of "Katherine".
Six. Years.
Seems incredible what has - and hasn't - changed in that span of time.
Did you know that the lawsuits that began shortly after Katrina slammed into the Gulf are still being argued in courts? That it wasn't all that long ago that the "temporary trailers" meant to provide relief for a brief amount of time while rebuilding and relocating occurred were FINALLY hauled away? It's so hard to believe. I still glance at the online overhead map of Gulfport and Biloxi, just to virtually visit the streets, neighborhoods, and parks that I spent so many hours driving by. Much has changed. But, again, much has not.
And now we have had "Irene". Our immediate area was spared any real hardship and I understand that the remainder of folks who live in my state will have power restored by the end of this week. Honestly, the Awesome Boyfriend and I weren't put out at all by Irene's winds or rains whatsoever. We *just missed* having one of our vehicles damaged by an awfully large chuck of tree - but that was really the only close call we had. (For that matter, the tree chunk could have also fallen on the corner of the house too - but, again, it didn't.) Irene was kind to us.
All that being said, it doesn't take a mental giant to say that Irene WAS quite a storm to our neighbors to the North. Flood waters have changed creeks to rivers, washed away roads and bridges and housing, caused fires and turned connected streets into virtual islands onto themselves. The death toll started at four ... and then nine ... and then it was into the teens ... and now it has reached 40. Damage estimates are between $5 billion and $7 billion. I listened to those numbers as I pulled into the parking lot to get my coffee. I tried to wrap my head around all those zeros as I stood in line.
My concentration of counting zeros (cut me some slack ... I was doing math with NO coffee in me yet) was broken as I became aware of a buzzing behind me. A whiny, complaining sound ... "me me me me" it seemed to repeat. There was a well-dressed man in the line behind me who was going on about how stupid all the warnings and cautions and advance preparation and evacuations had been. About how, in the end, nothing storm-related had happened to anyone in his neighborhood and that Irene was very much ado about nothing at all. A non-event. About how put-upon he'd been to prepare during his precious down-time for a little bit of wind and rain that caused no damage whatsoever.
While he went on (and on and on and on), I thought to myself that perhaps he is a member of emergency personnel and, as such, was running on no sleep and had finally just lost his patience. I thought that perhaps he has a family member fighting for their lives in a hospital and just needed something to vent about. Maybe he is worried about his employment ... or had an ugly commute ... In my mind, I gave him every excuse to behave so boorishly and I tried (not very hard but I DID try) to ignore his seeming disappointment at the lack of Irene-caused destruction.
As the line continued to move forward and we approached the counter, I recognized the employee running the register. Being a regular at this establishment, I knew from our conversation the previous day that she lived with her parents and that they'd lost power early Saturday morning. When we spoke Monday, she said the power company told her that they'd do their best to restore it soon but to prepare for being without power for the week. Looking at her lack of usual makeup and not-as-neatly-coiffed hairstyle, I guessed that she was still without power.
I was just one person away from paying for my order when I heard the comment "honestly, this whole storm-centered weekend was a complete waste of my energy. I'd sue someone for the loss of my personal time because of this 'non-storm' if I could." And hearing that did it. Hearing that released my "whiny moron response button". With the fresh estimated damage cost and death toll data still swirling in my head and the image of this cashier and her family losing their hot showers and stored refrigerated food for the week, I handed her my personal cup for my order and then turned around to meet the scowling unhappy gaze of this man ... the source of the unending monologue of woe.
"I heard this morning", I said with as much of an expressionless face I could muster, "that the death toll is 40 and probably rising and the damage estimate is between $5 to $7 billion. How many people would have needed to die for it to have been a more 'worthwhile' storm for you?"
I honestly did want a response. I wasn't trying to shut him down completely and I really wasn't passing any judgement upon him. I'm sure his neighborhood WAS completely untouched and that is it totally possible he had no idea that lives were lost and that massive property damage had occurred. I actually was asking for his parameters because I was curious - at what body count number or dollar amount would his preparation been worthwhile to him?
Unfortunately I'll never know. My coffee order was ready and he had walked to the opposite corner of the waiting line area without a response.
Showing posts with label Biloxi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Biloxi. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Monday, August 23, 2010
Comin' Around Again
In all the ways that I am very typically Irish, there is one “typical Irish” trait I do not seem to possess ... I do not seethe. Which is not to say that I don’t fume (or whatever similar word you’d plug in here) when I’m upset. I just don’t pout for hours on end. I don’t chew endlessly on my anger like a wad of gum. I don’t see the need. It’d serve no purpose, it’d take energy and honestly, dwelling on being angry doesn’t CHANGE whatever it is that angered you in the first place. I get mad, I allow myself to vent however necessary, and I recover.
I can honestly say that this lack of never-ending rage is true of all the disappointments and letdowns and double-crosses I’ve experienced in life thus far (and friends, trust me when I say that there have been some real doozies). However, like a lot of “rules”, there is an exception.
My “hot” button gets pushed with one topic – something I’ve tried (and failed) to chill out about for five years now. A discussion where I cannot see both sides, I cannot see the truth in opposing points of view, I cannot tolerate … and do not tolerate … those who pontificate and sermonize with answers now that they have had half a decade to research and study and learn about a situation that they were never in, never experienced for themselves, and never responded to in any way.
I’m referring to August 29th, 2005. The day that Hurricane Katrina made landfall. And I realize that I am guilty of being too close to this topic to discuss it without being biased. I accept that, and I agree that I am VERY biased about Katrina and what the Gulf Coast experienced.
It has been five years.
I still cannot think about that place, those people, their homes, the neighborhoods, and their history without getting emotional. The thing I’ve noticed is that I’m no longer angry about the topic, but I realize that I will always be passionate about it. I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I think that having passion for something … caring about something so deeply that discussing it moves you, brings you joy, makes you think, or just gives you pause for a moment for you to catch your breath or wipe your eyes … that kind of passion is what helps form us as individuals.
As the 29th looms closer and the various news and media outlets revisit Hurricane Katrina, I may or may not watch their shows or read their headlines, but I have my own story to recall and revisit. I do not seethe, but I will remember.
I can honestly say that this lack of never-ending rage is true of all the disappointments and letdowns and double-crosses I’ve experienced in life thus far (and friends, trust me when I say that there have been some real doozies). However, like a lot of “rules”, there is an exception.
My “hot” button gets pushed with one topic – something I’ve tried (and failed) to chill out about for five years now. A discussion where I cannot see both sides, I cannot see the truth in opposing points of view, I cannot tolerate … and do not tolerate … those who pontificate and sermonize with answers now that they have had half a decade to research and study and learn about a situation that they were never in, never experienced for themselves, and never responded to in any way.
I’m referring to August 29th, 2005. The day that Hurricane Katrina made landfall. And I realize that I am guilty of being too close to this topic to discuss it without being biased. I accept that, and I agree that I am VERY biased about Katrina and what the Gulf Coast experienced.
It has been five years.
I still cannot think about that place, those people, their homes, the neighborhoods, and their history without getting emotional. The thing I’ve noticed is that I’m no longer angry about the topic, but I realize that I will always be passionate about it. I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I think that having passion for something … caring about something so deeply that discussing it moves you, brings you joy, makes you think, or just gives you pause for a moment for you to catch your breath or wipe your eyes … that kind of passion is what helps form us as individuals.
As the 29th looms closer and the various news and media outlets revisit Hurricane Katrina, I may or may not watch their shows or read their headlines, but I have my own story to recall and revisit. I do not seethe, but I will remember.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Reading This Will Probably Make You Itch
See the title?
You've been warned.
So in the past ... oh - three months? ... I've been hearing a sound when I walk outside. It sounds like an automatic sprinkler system. The kind they use during the opening moments of "Caddy Shack" ... that "nawhooshdada nawhooshdada nawhooshdada nawhooshdada dadadadadadada nawhooshdada nawhooshdada nawhooshdada" kind of thing. And, given how there are many green areas and gardens here, it'd make sense to hear sprinkler systems being used.
Here's the weird part, tho - I hear it at night, like at 8:30, after the sun has set. Annnnd I hear it in the middle of the day, when no one in their right mind would be watering. In fact, I hear it all the time. Those of you who live (or have lived) anyplace further East than, say, Sacramento already know the noise. You're telling me the answer already. I know. I can hear you (just barely over the din of the noise) saying the word "cicada".
So ok - cicada it is. Haven't actually SEEN any, but yep - I've done some digging around on YouTube and that sound is for sure a cicada sound. More quick research says that they (generally) don't bother humans, aside from that sound that makes ya' wanna jab pencils into your eardrums. I say "generally don't" because sometimes, if they land on a human and chill there for a bit, they'll forget where they are (te-hee) and try to extract tree sap from the lucky person. Apparently that can hurt quite a bit (geez yeah - ya' think?!?), but it won't really harm a person.
Now since my East Coast move, I've dealt with crickets larger than the size of my big toes and ants that could, if motivated and organized, carry off small children, so it's safe to say that insects generally kinda freak me out. I don't like being surprised by them, mostly. (Yeah, those crickets last year. That was sooooome fun.) If I KNOW that an insect is around - well, insectS really, 'cause there is never just ONE - it's alright. Not "great", but "alright".
When I was gutting homes in Biloxi, there were walls just *filled* with huge cockroaches. Filled with 'em. As in, "when the moldy sheet rock was removed, the 'wall' appeared to still be there" kinda filled. But see - I KNEW they'd be there. So we created a system where ya'd pound on the wall a few loud times, yell "cockroach!!!!!" and then take the wall out and sure enough, they'd all fall to the ground to go find a new fun place to hide ... a cockroach version of "Hide-N-Seek".
Also lately - as in "over the past two weeks" - I've noticed small sawdust-looking mounds of dirt on the dry side of the back yard. "Gophers!" I thought, proud of myself for having solved this easy mystery (because, if this were the West Coast, that's what would be causing this mound). I mentioned it via text to The Awesome Boyfriend this morning. "Cicada Killer Wasps", responded The Awesome Boyfriend.
"Sure", I laughed out loud when I saw the text. I shared it with my friends at the coffee house, and it escaped my attention that they weren't laughing with me. "Enjoy killing 'em", I texted back, still giggling at his comment.
But he wasn't fooling. And a quick trip to the garden supply center confirmed exactly what he said. And more research on the Internet confirmed it more.
(A side note: I was pretty graphic about the cockroach thing above. I shoulda warned you, I guess, about planting that visual in your head. I apologize, and offer this advice as a means of making it up to you: DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE OF CURIOSITY OR GENERAL WONDERINGMENT, RESEARCH PHOTOGRAPHS OF "Cicada Killer Wasps". Just ... don't. Seriously.)
Information states that they also don't really mess with humans. That they tend to be solo-type critters (uh huh but there's like 30 or more of 'em in the back yard, so not all THAT solo), the males don't sting (but they will swoop down on you and want to "inspect" you to make sure you're not a sexy cicada killer female wasp that they can mate with), the females have a stinger that they very rarely use (unless, yanno, you're trying to kill them) and even when they do, it feels "like a small pinch" (sure but again - 30 or more of 'em). Oh - and they're beneficial (because they're killing cicadas). And they also have short life spans (just six weeks).
And while I read and absorbed all this information ... while I understand it and it makes total sense ... my brain is still saying "blah blah yadda yadda blah - killer wasps. Killer freakin' wasps!!!!! No way, no how, no chance, not happening." Well, it's not actually "saying" that, it's more shouting it. Over and over. In fact, now that I'm thinking about it, it sounds a lot like "nawhooshdada nawhooshdada nawhooshdada nawhooshdada dadadadadadada nawhooshdada nawhooshdada nawhooshdada".
So yes, Awesome Boyfriend, my original response stands. Enjoy killing them.
You've been warned.
So in the past ... oh - three months? ... I've been hearing a sound when I walk outside. It sounds like an automatic sprinkler system. The kind they use during the opening moments of "Caddy Shack" ... that "nawhooshdada nawhooshdada nawhooshdada nawhooshdada dadadadadadada nawhooshdada nawhooshdada nawhooshdada" kind of thing. And, given how there are many green areas and gardens here, it'd make sense to hear sprinkler systems being used.
Here's the weird part, tho - I hear it at night, like at 8:30, after the sun has set. Annnnd I hear it in the middle of the day, when no one in their right mind would be watering. In fact, I hear it all the time. Those of you who live (or have lived) anyplace further East than, say, Sacramento already know the noise. You're telling me the answer already. I know. I can hear you (just barely over the din of the noise) saying the word "cicada".
So ok - cicada it is. Haven't actually SEEN any, but yep - I've done some digging around on YouTube and that sound is for sure a cicada sound. More quick research says that they (generally) don't bother humans, aside from that sound that makes ya' wanna jab pencils into your eardrums. I say "generally don't" because sometimes, if they land on a human and chill there for a bit, they'll forget where they are (te-hee) and try to extract tree sap from the lucky person. Apparently that can hurt quite a bit (geez yeah - ya' think?!?), but it won't really harm a person.
Now since my East Coast move, I've dealt with crickets larger than the size of my big toes and ants that could, if motivated and organized, carry off small children, so it's safe to say that insects generally kinda freak me out. I don't like being surprised by them, mostly. (Yeah, those crickets last year. That was sooooome fun.) If I KNOW that an insect is around - well, insectS really, 'cause there is never just ONE - it's alright. Not "great", but "alright".
When I was gutting homes in Biloxi, there were walls just *filled* with huge cockroaches. Filled with 'em. As in, "when the moldy sheet rock was removed, the 'wall' appeared to still be there" kinda filled. But see - I KNEW they'd be there. So we created a system where ya'd pound on the wall a few loud times, yell "cockroach!!!!!" and then take the wall out and sure enough, they'd all fall to the ground to go find a new fun place to hide ... a cockroach version of "Hide-N-Seek".
Also lately - as in "over the past two weeks" - I've noticed small sawdust-looking mounds of dirt on the dry side of the back yard. "Gophers!" I thought, proud of myself for having solved this easy mystery (because, if this were the West Coast, that's what would be causing this mound). I mentioned it via text to The Awesome Boyfriend this morning. "Cicada Killer Wasps", responded The Awesome Boyfriend.
"Sure", I laughed out loud when I saw the text. I shared it with my friends at the coffee house, and it escaped my attention that they weren't laughing with me. "Enjoy killing 'em", I texted back, still giggling at his comment.
But he wasn't fooling. And a quick trip to the garden supply center confirmed exactly what he said. And more research on the Internet confirmed it more.
(A side note: I was pretty graphic about the cockroach thing above. I shoulda warned you, I guess, about planting that visual in your head. I apologize, and offer this advice as a means of making it up to you: DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE OF CURIOSITY OR GENERAL WONDERINGMENT, RESEARCH PHOTOGRAPHS OF "Cicada Killer Wasps". Just ... don't. Seriously.)
Information states that they also don't really mess with humans. That they tend to be solo-type critters (uh huh but there's like 30 or more of 'em in the back yard, so not all THAT solo), the males don't sting (but they will swoop down on you and want to "inspect" you to make sure you're not a sexy cicada killer female wasp that they can mate with), the females have a stinger that they very rarely use (unless, yanno, you're trying to kill them) and even when they do, it feels "like a small pinch" (sure but again - 30 or more of 'em). Oh - and they're beneficial (because they're killing cicadas). And they also have short life spans (just six weeks).
And while I read and absorbed all this information ... while I understand it and it makes total sense ... my brain is still saying "blah blah yadda yadda blah - killer wasps. Killer freakin' wasps!!!!! No way, no how, no chance, not happening." Well, it's not actually "saying" that, it's more shouting it. Over and over. In fact, now that I'm thinking about it, it sounds a lot like "nawhooshdada nawhooshdada nawhooshdada nawhooshdada dadadadadadada nawhooshdada nawhooshdada nawhooshdada".
So yes, Awesome Boyfriend, my original response stands. Enjoy killing them.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Ten Reasons To Be The One
(10) Do ya' like seafood?
(9) Are birds fun to watch?
(8) Have you ever chilled out to the music of Dave Matthews? ... Lenny Kravatz?
(7) Do you enjoy the sound of the sea lapping onto the shore?
(6) Ever find yourself rooting for Drew Brees? ... Peyton Manning?
(5) Are you a fan of turtles? ... Pelicans? ... Dolphins?
(4) How do you feel about a relaxing day on the water and maybe doin' a little fishing?
(3) Ever learned anything while watching Emeril Lagasse? ... Giggled while seeing Harry Shearer in a role? ... Has John Goodman ever made ya' smile? ... Enjoyed the talents of Blake Lively?
(2) Do you support generationally-owned businesses?
(1) Do you respect the work - public and private - that Sandra Bullock has done?
I gave ya' ten questions. And now, if there's even one "yes" in there, I'm asking you to Be The One.
(9) Are birds fun to watch?
(8) Have you ever chilled out to the music of Dave Matthews? ... Lenny Kravatz?
(7) Do you enjoy the sound of the sea lapping onto the shore?
(6) Ever find yourself rooting for Drew Brees? ... Peyton Manning?
(5) Are you a fan of turtles? ... Pelicans? ... Dolphins?
(4) How do you feel about a relaxing day on the water and maybe doin' a little fishing?
(3) Ever learned anything while watching Emeril Lagasse? ... Giggled while seeing Harry Shearer in a role? ... Has John Goodman ever made ya' smile? ... Enjoyed the talents of Blake Lively?
(2) Do you support generationally-owned businesses?
(1) Do you respect the work - public and private - that Sandra Bullock has done?
I gave ya' ten questions. And now, if there's even one "yes" in there, I'm asking you to Be The One.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Who Are You?
I've just spent a bit of my day listening to our President outline his plan in regards to cleaning up the oily mess that BP has made of the Gulf Coast.
Let me come clean about a few things before I continue:
(1) I don't enjoy politics.
(2) I don't follow politicians.
(3) I DO believe in the power of voting.
(4) I DO educate myself on things before I check any boxes on a ballot.
(5) I don't make it a habit to watch every "town hall" meeting.
(6) I also don't spend my time listening to pundits or that sort of thing. It's just not how I would enjoy spending my time.
and
(7) I have spent enough time in the Gulf Coast to see - first hand - that it's been treated like the red-headed, left-handed step-child of this country. Furthermore, the last time I saw that area getting the short end of a barbed stick, it sickened me so much that I pretty much MADE my employer pony up money, time, and effort to respond.
So back to the President ...
I was listening - as unbiased as I could be and withholding judgement ..... right up until he said the following (and I looked this up to make sure I got it right): "My job right now is just to make sure everybody in the Gulf understands: This is what I wake up to in the morning, and this is what I go to bed at night thinking about. The spill."
Uh huh.
I can't say that I agree with that statement. Is that honestly the biggest, most important job he has? That everyone in the Gulf know he's thinking about their region? Does that stop animals and plants from being poisoned or waters from being fouled?
I would rather have heard something along the lines of "my job right now is to make sure that any need in the Gulf region with regards to this crisis, be it financially based, time based, energy based, tool based, organizationally based, education based, response based, cleanup based, prevention based ... whatever that area needs ... my job is to get those items to them today. Now." But no dice. Awwww well ...
What really got my goat though - what REALLY spun me up - was listening to all these talking heads afterwards with their "we need to get this cleaned up" and "they should just get started" and "you can clean up the beaches today", etc.
Yanno the problem with those statements? The problem is in the "we", "they", and "you" part.
The last time I heard this sort of talk, I spent 6 weeks of my life over a two-year period doing what"we", "they", and "you" said should be done. Me. I did it. I put my life on hold and got on a plane. I changed my career path and signed up for a 65% pay cut. I missed out on major family events and begged for airline miles to go there not once but six ... SIX times and you know something else? I got it done, damnit, and while we're at it hey - I didn't see your ass down there, Mr. "I have all the answers and now here's Tracy with the weather". Where the hell were you then? In fact, there's still cleanup from Katrina to be done so don't let me stop you - get going and you can still get involved in THAT disaster today.
*exhale*
So just remember ... before YOU or THEY or WE come up with these quick and easy answers to things we read about or listened to for twenty whole minutes but actually have never seen with our own eyes, make sure YOU know who the THEY is ... or WE may tell you to shut the hell up and just do it ourselves.
Let me come clean about a few things before I continue:
(1) I don't enjoy politics.
(2) I don't follow politicians.
(3) I DO believe in the power of voting.
(4) I DO educate myself on things before I check any boxes on a ballot.
(5) I don't make it a habit to watch every "town hall" meeting.
(6) I also don't spend my time listening to pundits or that sort of thing. It's just not how I would enjoy spending my time.
and
(7) I have spent enough time in the Gulf Coast to see - first hand - that it's been treated like the red-headed, left-handed step-child of this country. Furthermore, the last time I saw that area getting the short end of a barbed stick, it sickened me so much that I pretty much MADE my employer pony up money, time, and effort to respond.
So back to the President ...
I was listening - as unbiased as I could be and withholding judgement ..... right up until he said the following (and I looked this up to make sure I got it right): "My job right now is just to make sure everybody in the Gulf understands: This is what I wake up to in the morning, and this is what I go to bed at night thinking about. The spill."
Uh huh.
I can't say that I agree with that statement. Is that honestly the biggest, most important job he has? That everyone in the Gulf know he's thinking about their region? Does that stop animals and plants from being poisoned or waters from being fouled?
I would rather have heard something along the lines of "my job right now is to make sure that any need in the Gulf region with regards to this crisis, be it financially based, time based, energy based, tool based, organizationally based, education based, response based, cleanup based, prevention based ... whatever that area needs ... my job is to get those items to them today. Now." But no dice. Awwww well ...
What really got my goat though - what REALLY spun me up - was listening to all these talking heads afterwards with their "we need to get this cleaned up" and "they should just get started" and "you can clean up the beaches today", etc.
Yanno the problem with those statements? The problem is in the "we", "they", and "you" part.
The last time I heard this sort of talk, I spent 6 weeks of my life over a two-year period doing what"we", "they", and "you" said should be done. Me. I did it. I put my life on hold and got on a plane. I changed my career path and signed up for a 65% pay cut. I missed out on major family events and begged for airline miles to go there not once but six ... SIX times and you know something else? I got it done, damnit, and while we're at it hey - I didn't see your ass down there, Mr. "I have all the answers and now here's Tracy with the weather". Where the hell were you then? In fact, there's still cleanup from Katrina to be done so don't let me stop you - get going and you can still get involved in THAT disaster today.
*exhale*
So just remember ... before YOU or THEY or WE come up with these quick and easy answers to things we read about or listened to for twenty whole minutes but actually have never seen with our own eyes, make sure YOU know who the THEY is ... or WE may tell you to shut the hell up and just do it ourselves.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Sing It With Me
Over this past weekend, during a grocery run, I tossed a magazine into my shopping cart. The main story was about Grace Kelly and the cover photo was intriguing enough that it made me wanna read the article (which, let's be honest, is the job of the cover photo).
Today, while passing time in an auto shop repair lobby, I found myself thumbing through the other pages. I stopped on a well-written piece about the two individuals who created "Time" magazine and, before I knew it, I was sucked in. (And I identify the piece as "well-written" because I don't read the magazine they created and wasn't all that curious about the process they took to get it started before I started reading.)
I passed the waiting time (all three hours of it) reading and pondering. Afterwards, I went to get my morning coffee (*sigh* at 1:30pm) and returned home. I was still chewing on all I'd taken in when I opening up my laptop. From my homepage, there was a link ... from Time Magazine ... on the "100 most influential people in the world" and, for whatever reason, I once again found myself reading about something I'd ordinarily pass by.
Not surprisingly, there were a number of names on this list that the general public doesn't yet know (but likely will). I clicked on a few that looked interesting and then found myself drawn to a videolink about actor/director Ben Stiller and the charity work he's been funding that's going on in Haiti.
It seems he created his own non-profit ("StillerStrong") and was doing work in Haiti before the huge earthquake they recently experienced. The workers that were based on-site managed to reopen their school sooner that expected, if for no other reason than to provide a gathering place, a day care, and a safe place for children to be - as an alternative to spending their days on the streets.
The team that StillerStrong partnered with? Architecture for Humanity Haiti.
And then - just now, in fact - an ex-coworker of mine sent me an email asking if I knew that I was in AFH's book about the Biloxi rebuilding project. (I did not know I was in it - I knew that said book existed, 'tho.)
********
It's a world of laughter, a world of fears.
It's a world of joy, and a world of fears.
There's so much that we share that it's time we're aware
It's a small world after all.
Today, while passing time in an auto shop repair lobby, I found myself thumbing through the other pages. I stopped on a well-written piece about the two individuals who created "Time" magazine and, before I knew it, I was sucked in. (And I identify the piece as "well-written" because I don't read the magazine they created and wasn't all that curious about the process they took to get it started before I started reading.)
I passed the waiting time (all three hours of it) reading and pondering. Afterwards, I went to get my morning coffee (*sigh* at 1:30pm) and returned home. I was still chewing on all I'd taken in when I opening up my laptop. From my homepage, there was a link ... from Time Magazine ... on the "100 most influential people in the world" and, for whatever reason, I once again found myself reading about something I'd ordinarily pass by.
Not surprisingly, there were a number of names on this list that the general public doesn't yet know (but likely will). I clicked on a few that looked interesting and then found myself drawn to a videolink about actor/director Ben Stiller and the charity work he's been funding that's going on in Haiti.
It seems he created his own non-profit ("StillerStrong") and was doing work in Haiti before the huge earthquake they recently experienced. The workers that were based on-site managed to reopen their school sooner that expected, if for no other reason than to provide a gathering place, a day care, and a safe place for children to be - as an alternative to spending their days on the streets.
The team that StillerStrong partnered with? Architecture for Humanity Haiti.
And then - just now, in fact - an ex-coworker of mine sent me an email asking if I knew that I was in AFH's book about the Biloxi rebuilding project. (I did not know I was in it - I knew that said book existed, 'tho.)
********
It's a world of laughter, a world of fears.
It's a world of joy, and a world of fears.
There's so much that we share that it's time we're aware
It's a small world after all.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Don't Wanna Miss A Thing
A few Novembers back, I was doing volunteer work in another part of the country when the weather got kinda chilly. A bunch of us headed to a nearby drugstore for a junk-food run, where I found a heavy sweatshirt for $6 - on discount because of a badly sewn arm. After about 20 minutes of hand-stitching while sitting on a bunk bed in a cold church multi-use room, I had a new sweatshirt that I would take home with me at the end of that week. It was very warm and soft and, while it had a VERY basic design to it, it was just what I needed. It simply says "Biloxi, MS".
Flash forward:
It is a cold, rainy day. I'm wearing jeans, sneakers, and that sweatshirt, which I chose specifically because it is good at keeping me warm. I'm sitting in my usual coffee shop. It's nearly 10am and I'm watching a few clips online and sending out a few emails - nothing major. A VERY pregnant woman enters the shop and sits at the table across from mine. After a few minutes of clicking on her computer, she asks me if I know how to get online. I do. I guide her to the right windows and, a few minutes later, she's up and running.
We get to talking.
(An aside - this happens to me all the time. Strangers open up to me regularly. I was at this same coffee shop just a few days ago when a couple traveling from Texas walked in. I had extra chairs at my table and offered them one. They misunderstood my offer and sat down with me, which was fine. In their short time with me, I learned that they'd been driving for 40+ hours with stops along the way. I also learned that she was returning to graduate school in the NorthEast and he was driving her out, hoping to get a job there so he wouldn't have to come all the way back home alone.)
Anyway, it seems that this woman, Katie, works for an online company and she was planning on working home today, except her power went out. She likes her job but wishes that her manager, who works on the opposite coast, would allow her to work from home more, especially in her very pregnant state. I ask her just how pregnant she is and she says she's due in three days.
I also learn that Katie and her husband, Steve, met while they were both in the military. She was born in Tennessee but grew up in Texas and Arizona - a "military brat". She served and was stationed in "the South", while finishing her education. I ask her if she and Steve were "out there" (meaning "the South") during Katrina and she says "well, actually, we were at Keesler AFB, which is" and, before she can finish her sentence, I say "in Gulfport, MS at the end of Pass Road, next to 'The Joy Of Coffee'". She stops cold and slowly says ".... yessssss".
I show her my sweatshirt.
We spend the next hour talking like friends who have known each other for years. We know the same libraries and schools, the same roads and shortcuts, the same heart-breaking sights and heart-warming stories (even if they involve different families). In fact , she even knew the building I was in when I was sewing this sweatshirt. She remarks as she's gathering her up her things that I have no Mississippi accent and I tell her that I'm a native Californian ... a recent transplant. I was there just because I had to be there ... just like I moved from CA because I had to be here.
THAT is why I know I am where I am supposed to be today. And why I was supposed to take the path I did to get here. If I'd done any of it differently ... who knows what I would have missed out on?
Flash forward:
It is a cold, rainy day. I'm wearing jeans, sneakers, and that sweatshirt, which I chose specifically because it is good at keeping me warm. I'm sitting in my usual coffee shop. It's nearly 10am and I'm watching a few clips online and sending out a few emails - nothing major. A VERY pregnant woman enters the shop and sits at the table across from mine. After a few minutes of clicking on her computer, she asks me if I know how to get online. I do. I guide her to the right windows and, a few minutes later, she's up and running.
We get to talking.
(An aside - this happens to me all the time. Strangers open up to me regularly. I was at this same coffee shop just a few days ago when a couple traveling from Texas walked in. I had extra chairs at my table and offered them one. They misunderstood my offer and sat down with me, which was fine. In their short time with me, I learned that they'd been driving for 40+ hours with stops along the way. I also learned that she was returning to graduate school in the NorthEast and he was driving her out, hoping to get a job there so he wouldn't have to come all the way back home alone.)
Anyway, it seems that this woman, Katie, works for an online company and she was planning on working home today, except her power went out. She likes her job but wishes that her manager, who works on the opposite coast, would allow her to work from home more, especially in her very pregnant state. I ask her just how pregnant she is and she says she's due in three days.
I also learn that Katie and her husband, Steve, met while they were both in the military. She was born in Tennessee but grew up in Texas and Arizona - a "military brat". She served and was stationed in "the South", while finishing her education. I ask her if she and Steve were "out there" (meaning "the South") during Katrina and she says "well, actually, we were at Keesler AFB, which is" and, before she can finish her sentence, I say "in Gulfport, MS at the end of Pass Road, next to 'The Joy Of Coffee'". She stops cold and slowly says ".... yessssss".
I show her my sweatshirt.
We spend the next hour talking like friends who have known each other for years. We know the same libraries and schools, the same roads and shortcuts, the same heart-breaking sights and heart-warming stories (even if they involve different families). In fact , she even knew the building I was in when I was sewing this sweatshirt. She remarks as she's gathering her up her things that I have no Mississippi accent and I tell her that I'm a native Californian ... a recent transplant. I was there just because I had to be there ... just like I moved from CA because I had to be here.
THAT is why I know I am where I am supposed to be today. And why I was supposed to take the path I did to get here. If I'd done any of it differently ... who knows what I would have missed out on?
Monday, January 12, 2009
All Things Must Pass (Road)
Shame on me for not reading the HandsOn Gulf Coast Blog more frequently (it's RIGHT there ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------> after all), but “the kids” were never great about keeping it current and I just got lazy, I guess.
In any event, “Camp Cockroach”, thus named by Paula in Week #1, was shut down in November, 2008. I suspect all volunteer efforts are now completely partnered with the Hope Center … and any AmeriCorps or HandsOn volunteers (like Doug and George from Weeks #3 & #4) are likely long-term only and probably live in rented homes.
I realize that the whole idea of the Hope Center in the first place was to have one central organized place for the next massive storm recovery effort (because honestly, there WILL be "the next one"). But progress or not, it's still saddens me to read that the camp - with the temperamental sewage pipes, awful to non-existent insulation and completely uninvited bug residents (hence the well-earned nickname) - is now just another vacant building in Gulfport, MS.
I will still, however, years from now, turn onto Pass Road, drive past the "Gas-n-Go", look for the Post Office on the left-side of the road and make the sharp right turn into the driveway at 2113 (an address I know as well as my own) to show the building that housed hope, in the form of a bunch of loud, pierced, rowdy, hard-partying kids who were doing work that the rest of the nation said couldn't be done.
Monday, September 1, 2008
It's not NICE to fool with Mother Nature
It should surprise no one that I've been a weather-junkie all weekend. My laptop has refreshed on the National Hurricane Center's url so many times that I only need to type the letter "n" for a URL and it appears for me. (Cool site, by the way so I may as well share it here ... http://www.nhc.noaa.gov/)
Gustav has come to to shore and moved inland as I write this. He came roaring into the Gulf waters, taking advantage of the jittery nerves surrounding the anniversary of his older sister Katrina and, thankfully, turned out to "only" be a Category 2 at best. (Strange world when one can say "Oh - well the winds were *only* between 96 and 110 mph" and have that be POSITIVE news.) He has provided MANY interesting shots for me, 'tho. And while I realize that I already *have* my own "Hurricane Blog" set up (I'll get to that), I wanted to share a few of these images.
What we have here is the ever-appropriately named Bay-Waveland Yacht Club in Bay St. Louis. Waveland used to be a REALLY nice place, or so I've been told. I only know it as a place where the mayor lived in the park for more than a year and held meetings in his tent. Katrina eliminated Waveland. I don't mean "wow - she trashed it and golly it sure was a mess" - I mean she made it go away. There was not ONE upright structure in Waveland after Katrina roared through ... not even a utility pole. Professional broadcasters who were covering damage were at a loss to get the point across that Waveland no longer existed. (A book I have on Katrina starts one paragraph with "But Waveland ... where was Waveland?") The Yacht Club was rebuilt on raised pillars and while this looks like a total loss to most people, it is a screaming success. So chalk one up to the good guys.
This is Highway 90. From "Camp Cockroach" in Gulfport (the nickname for the base camp we used), ya' drive down Pass Road, make a right onto Veteran's Blvd and it dead ends onto 90. Make a left and go about 4 miles until you are "in town" (shortly after Mary Mahoney's on your left). Anyway - This is Highway 90 - or more accurately this is half of Highway 90. Ya' see that barrier there on the right? That's where the other lanes should be, and then after that should be a fairly large strip of beach and THEN water. That patch of grass to the right is the median in the middle of the highway, not a sidewalk. But again - this is a win. I see upright poles in the middle of the road and I see trees still standing and my GOD I see land at the left where housing starts to appear. This is a HUGE win. The score is 2 to nuttin.
Ok this kinda sucks. This is the view of 90 from St. John Avenue. The GOOD news is that you can see the street slopes downwards towards the highway and that the street itself is not flooded. This means that there's a 33% chance that the town is not dealing with standing water. It's only 33% because Biloxi has three sides of water. In fact, the Back Bay was almost crueler to Biloxi during Katrina from the "backwash" to the Gulf. We can't claim this as a win on our side because 90 is a main access to a LOT of this area and until it is cleared, not much will be happening. Mother Nature scores 1 here.
The Hard Rock Hotel was 2 weeks away from opening when Katrina hit. They had MAJOR damage, and their icon - this guitar - was a shell. I won't get into what gambling does for this area, but without these businesses, this area NEVER would have made as much progress as it did. In the interest of keeping things in perspective, the vans we were using while I was there easily drove underneath that tiny little parking area to the left. So this is a shitload of water that needs to go away. On the other hand, the structure itself is upright (which wasn't always the case) and the hotel structure itself - from this VERY limited angle - appears to be fairly intact. This means that recovery crews will have places to sleep and clean up. This means that jobs will happen. This means that money will continue and so - only because of ALL that water in front - I'm gonna call this a draw. Otherwise it'd be a point for us - but I'll be generous.
Oh wait - I just saw something. So ya' see that beige structure to the right there in the Hard Rock shot? That's the Beau Rivage Casino and Hotel. Casinos in this area used to have to be on barges - no gambling was allowed on land - so hotels were on solid ground, but not the gambling itself. That immediately stopped when the "Casino Magic" Barge came ashore during Katrina and landed on top of the Beau Rivage. Wanna know what THAT looks like?
And THAT is why Katrina is still the mother of all storms. Gustav was just her crabby little brother. I have completed blogging the first week of my experiences in Biloxi at my "other blog", called "Bigger Words Than 'Thank You'". It is embarrassing to say these are from 2006, but I will NOT wait until Hanna to post Week 2. I hope you enjoy Week 1.
Gustav has come to to shore and moved inland as I write this. He came roaring into the Gulf waters, taking advantage of the jittery nerves surrounding the anniversary of his older sister Katrina and, thankfully, turned out to "only" be a Category 2 at best. (Strange world when one can say "Oh - well the winds were *only* between 96 and 110 mph" and have that be POSITIVE news.) He has provided MANY interesting shots for me, 'tho. And while I realize that I already *have* my own "Hurricane Blog" set up (I'll get to that), I wanted to share a few of these images.
What we have here is the ever-appropriately named Bay-Waveland Yacht Club in Bay St. Louis. Waveland used to be a REALLY nice place, or so I've been told. I only know it as a place where the mayor lived in the park for more than a year and held meetings in his tent. Katrina eliminated Waveland. I don't mean "wow - she trashed it and golly it sure was a mess" - I mean she made it go away. There was not ONE upright structure in Waveland after Katrina roared through ... not even a utility pole. Professional broadcasters who were covering damage were at a loss to get the point across that Waveland no longer existed. (A book I have on Katrina starts one paragraph with "But Waveland ... where was Waveland?") The Yacht Club was rebuilt on raised pillars and while this looks like a total loss to most people, it is a screaming success. So chalk one up to the good guys.This is Highway 90. From "Camp Cockroach" in Gulfport (the nickname for the base camp we used), ya' drive down Pass Road, make a right onto Veteran's Blvd and it dead ends onto 90. Make a left and go about 4 miles until you are "in town" (shortly after Mary Mahoney's on your left). Anyway - This is Highway 90 - or more accurately this is half of Highway 90. Ya' see that barrier there on the right? That's where the other lanes should be, and then after that should be a fairly large strip of beach and THEN water. That patch of grass to the right is the median in the middle of the highway, not a sidewalk. But again - this is a win. I see upright poles in the middle of the road and I see trees still standing and my GOD I see land at the left where housing starts to appear. This is a HUGE win. The score is 2 to nuttin. Ok this kinda sucks. This is the view of 90 from St. John Avenue. The GOOD news is that you can see the street slopes downwards towards the highway and that the street itself is not flooded. This means that there's a 33% chance that the town is not dealing with standing water. It's only 33% because Biloxi has three sides of water. In fact, the Back Bay was almost crueler to Biloxi during Katrina from the "backwash" to the Gulf. We can't claim this as a win on our side because 90 is a main access to a LOT of this area and until it is cleared, not much will be happening. Mother Nature scores 1 here. The Hard Rock Hotel was 2 weeks away from opening when Katrina hit. They had MAJOR damage, and their icon - this guitar - was a shell. I won't get into what gambling does for this area, but without these businesses, this area NEVER would have made as much progress as it did. In the interest of keeping things in perspective, the vans we were using while I was there easily drove underneath that tiny little parking area to the left. So this is a shitload of water that needs to go away. On the other hand, the structure itself is upright (which wasn't always the case) and the hotel structure itself - from this VERY limited angle - appears to be fairly intact. This means that recovery crews will have places to sleep and clean up. This means that jobs will happen. This means that money will continue and so - only because of ALL that water in front - I'm gonna call this a draw. Otherwise it'd be a point for us - but I'll be generous.Oh wait - I just saw something. So ya' see that beige structure to the right there in the Hard Rock shot? That's the Beau Rivage Casino and Hotel. Casinos in this area used to have to be on barges - no gambling was allowed on land - so hotels were on solid ground, but not the gambling itself. That immediately stopped when the "Casino Magic" Barge came ashore during Katrina and landed on top of the Beau Rivage. Wanna know what THAT looks like?
And THAT is why Katrina is still the mother of all storms. Gustav was just her crabby little brother. I have completed blogging the first week of my experiences in Biloxi at my "other blog", called "Bigger Words Than 'Thank You'". It is embarrassing to say these are from 2006, but I will NOT wait until Hanna to post Week 2. I hope you enjoy Week 1.
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