Friday, May 6, 2011

The Heroes

One thing you quickly noticed near the “affected areas” were the number of distribution centers for all kind of supplies. Water, ice, tarps, plywood, nails, tools. They were piled high under large tents or in the open in church parking lots. Drive through and pick up what you need. No questions asked, except “do you need any help?” That’s where the heroes come in.

For day’s students, residents, fraternity and sorority brothers and sisters, university staff, and a myriad of others combed the “affected areas” looking for people in need of help. Clearing debris from property seemed to be the most needed assistance. Not much can happen until the big trees are chopped up and toted to the street for eventual pickup. Insurance adjusters cannot appraise auto damage until the can see the cars to assess them. So, for days these heroes have cut and hauled and stacked debris throughout the “affected areas.”

On the porch of a student’s house near the graveyard south of Bryant-Denny Stadium I spend time with a group of students who have been doing this work for four days in the hot, humid, Alabama weather. We shared more than a few beers and I hear their stories. They had come from all over the country, Texas, Georgia, Alabama, and California, to study at the University. As I listened to them talk about what they had been doing the previous four days I was struck by the pragmatism they each brought to the task at hand. A terrible thing had happened to their community. They were able to help those in need, so they showed up every day to do whatever was necessary.

Each day these and hundreds of others patrolled the streets looking for people to help. Pickup trucks, overalls, gloves, and strong backs were all that they had to offer—but it was enough. One young man from Atlanta, Scottie, showed the evidence of hours in the sun by sporting a serious farmer’s tan, numerous bug-bites, and lots of cuts and scratches from hauling brush to the street. Another student from Ventura, Ashley, had a serious looking abrasion and knob on her shin. All were complaining of sore muscles and aching backs. It was odd to think that these students, who had been released from the remainder of their classes and final exams, chose to stay behind a while to help out as they could. Well Done!

I wondered what drove these students to go out and put in a hard day’s work for no pay. I mean, they are students. It isn’t like they don’t need the money. And it isn’t like they don’t have other demands on their time. Clay, from Dallas, was also a tornado survivor. He rode out a head on attack in the basement of his rented house. Under the onslaught of two-hundred plus mile per hour winds the house had collapsed upon him. He climbed out of the rubble amide total devastation. His car had been crushed by a fallen tree. His belongings scattered. I could imagine why Clay was still in Tuscaloosa; he was trapped. But it was more than that. It was a sense of duty and responsibility to their community, their school, and each other. It was nice to see.

In fact, it was the day after the assassination of Osama Bin Laden and I heard no conversation about his death; no gloating or nationalistic fervor, only total absorption in the situation they faced. That is why I tagged them with the hero badge. If our country and the world are to be placed in the hands of future leaders cut from the same cloth as these young people, I feel safe. Maybe there is a sense of responsibility among the youth of today. Maybe we have misjudged our future leaders. I think so.

No comments:

Post a Comment