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Sat 11 Sep, 2004 07:25 pm
Her name was Julie and she was a deputy sheriff who had been in the Gulf War. She was an ethnic hybrid who talked with ease about her life and her children.
It all began when I realized that staying in a high school, no matter how spacious and modern, was going to be a test of patience and endurance. Too many bodies; too close together; and the undercurrent of fear and forboding. Next to our comforter on the floor, was a young girl who stayed huddled under a blanket until several of her hip hop friends made a strange spectacle of rebellion. They seemed to relish the idea of shock and yet, they seemed lost in that pretense.
Across from me and my husband was a woman who shared a common bond and who had put her husband in a nursing home. She explained over and over how he had lost mental acuity until there was no other choice.
Another tall and statuesque lady, who really looked like a high class madam, seemed right in her milieu. Most noticeable was her bleached blonde hair that cascaded in a long braid over her leopard attire.
My husband had a terrible episode on the last day of interment, and yes, that was really what it was, and had to be taken to the infirmary section of the school and shot full of valium. He remembers nothing of it now.
I talked at length with a young girl who attended Liberty College in Lynchburg Virginia, and opened my eyes a little about Jerry Falwell. How extraordinary that she loved the man and ignored his message.
The worst part was the cafeteria line that was endless, operated by a calm and efficient Spanish lady, along with her volunteers, who not many thanked.
There was beauty; there was grotesqueness; there were people who huddled, and those that cuddled; but in that strange and diverse olio, there was a cement.
When it became possible to cross the bridge without fear of being blown away, I left a message with another young deputy to give Julie my heart felt thanks, not for her assistance, but for the opportunity to change my view of those who seem so callous and who one ends up admiring and most importantly, respecting.
I cannot put into a few simple words the vignettes of the people who crowded that building, let's just say it was a cross section of the world.
From Letty, with love.
A very interesting read Letty. You've painted a small personal picture of your adventure while braving the storm.
My grandmother always said "If life gives you lemons, made lemonade."
It sounds like you had some hurricane lemonade, Letty.
I'm glad you're safe.
Very nice, Letty.
I remember thinking at some point (I wrote a lot of "society should..." screeds as a teenager) that there should be occasional events where everyone -- EVERYONE, from every walk of life -- should be forced together under circumstances beyond their control and forced to deal with each other beyond their comfort level.
I do think that we are every good at erecting barriers, and that that is unfortunate.
Letty--
I hope if I am ever evacuated to a unfamiliar place among strangers that I can emerge from that experience with your grace and your refocused clarity.
I hope your home was intact, that your yard can be cleaned and that your husband has recovered.
Hold your dominion.
You honor me with your responses, but my ISP is relentless and keeps bumping me off to bed.
soz, Osso, boomer, noddy, colorbook. Thank you and goodnight.
GOOD! you're safe, and you're learning from your hardship.
I remind myself at such times that "This too shall pass." The most effective cliche, ever.
I'm SO GLAD you are safe.
Love, JL.
I feel great empathy, letty. Good luck with the next one.
Thank you for posting that, Letty.
Msolga, edgar, JL, and Diane from the Ivan thread, I continue to be reassured by your warm support. I have decided not to go to a shelter this time, and that may be the wrong decision, but it is one that I must make alone.
There are points in time, and each one has its own eternity.
Good morning from a "tense" Florida--past, present, and future.
are you near Misti? I hope so as Misti seems to think the hurricane will miss her this time.
I hope all is well.
Vivien, relatively near Misti and Rae. They live in Cocoa Beach. As usual, I always find interesting things that are in sync with what I write. One of my favorite actors, Kevin Spacey, is making a movie about Bobby Darin, called Beyond the Sea. I love that song. I can hear it in my head as I can hear the surf of a muddy ocean. When we did a lot of surf fishing, we referred to it as "a catfish ocean".
Somewhere beyond the sea,
Somewhere, waiting for me,
My lover stands on golden sands
And watches the ships that go sailing.
Somewhere beyond the sea,
She's there watching for me.
If I could fly like birds on high,
Then straight to her arms I'd go sailing.
It's far beyond a star,
It's near beyond the moon,
I know beyond a doubt
My heart will lead me there soon.
We'll meet beyond the shore,
We'll kiss just as before.
Happy we'll be beyond the sea,
And never again I'll go sailing.
I hope that your little island is faring well.
Letty wrote:
I hope that your little island is faring well.
nice words - i don't know that song at all.
our little island is a bit chilly today with sunshine mixed with lots of heavy threatening clouds scudding by - i have to go shopping <sigh> and I'm putting it off.
Summer is nearly over <more sighs> - though i do love autumn.
We're hanging an exhibition tomorrow as well and i haven't done a thing about organising what I'm putting in. I meant to do some new work but haven't had time.
your husband has health problems?
Yes, Vivien. My husband has been ill for some time. His memory grows steadily worse, and when he finds himself in a new environment, away from daily routines, he becomes quite disoriented.
The autumn equinox and the changing of the leaves. In my front yard in Virginia, I watched the metamorphosis of the sugar maple. It was the last to turn and the last to spring green. You will forgive me if I lapse into the songs of autumn that I learned as a child:
There's a song that autumn sings to you,
It's a song of yellow trees,
While the earth is resting dreamily,
Neath a tapestry of leaves.
I learned something else in the shelter imparted to me by an amateur ham operator. Palm trees may snap and break, but they quickly renew themselves. Unfortunately, man does not always adapt to the environment as easily.
Bravo, Letty. Thanks for keeping us informed.
Stay well and safe, my friend.
Thanks, Letty, for your email directing me to your shelter story. I've never been in a situation where I've been tossed into camping with a bunch of strangers under such stressful circumstances. You coped well.
I think yall on the Atlantic coast of FL will be spared most of Ivan's wrath.
One our FL brethern referenced a site: boatus.com that provides excellent weather maps. Ivan looks like it may swing around the Keys into the Gulf of Mexico and target the FL panhandle. After that, the five day map doesn't look too good for those of us in GA and the mountains of NC and VA.
Ah, Raggedy. You are such a dear friend. I just picked up the latest in fashionable crossword puzzles, but you must guess.
According to The Daytona News Journal, we might get by-passed this time.
C'est une chanson, qui nous ressemble
Toi tu m'aimais et je t'aimais
Nous vivions tous, les deux ensemble
Toi que m'aimais moi qui t'aimais
Mais la vie sépare ceux qui s'aiment
Tout doucement sans faire de bruit
Et la mer efface sur le sable les pas des amants désunis
John of Virginia, I was hoping that you would respond. You were a bit too quick for Letty, however. Here is my feeling as of now. The folks who are at risk, will have enough advance warning so that they can be prepared and ready, and as we have discussed, Virginia is no stranger to the hurricanes that crossed the boundaries of decency.<smile>
I suppose that since UVA beat North Carolina, (they did, didn't they?) The entire grounds will be a match for any high winds.
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