Sunday, April 1, 2012

The Rain, the Drive and the Leaf-Blower


Sunday, April 1, 2012

We woke up to thunder and rain, which meant that most of us just didn’t get up when we had said we would.  That turned out to be okay, as Joe and Vicky said that it was much too slick and messy in the ravine to get anything done.  In search of a job, we made a series of phone calls and found that there was little to accomplish on a Sunday in the rain.  So we called Shawny’s cousin Sara, who lives in Henryville, one of the hardest hit towns in the storms.   She invited us to drive to Henryville and check things out, even though there was no really good way to get any work done there today.   So we went. We knew the basic direction that we needed to go, so we figured we would find our way without much trouble.  

We all have “smart” phones that include navigation systems, but we didn’t realize that our “smart” systems don’t necessarily tell us the best way to travel the country roads of rural Indiana.  Our nav systems all take us where we want to go, but they take the long way.  We are starting to get some real affection for the Indiana landscape, so we don’t mind where we drive, though now we prefer to take the country roads over the wider state roads and freeways (called “highways” here).  

The country roads have their own system of codes, including a strong tendency for the name of the road to tell you exactly what you need to know (like Henryville-Otisco Road, which goes between those two small towns or Marysville-Nabb Road, the route of which you can probably now guess).  In addition, we are learning to “read” the water towers, as you can look across an open space and get a pretty good idea where the next town is by where its water tower stands above the landscape.  Once you get close enough, the water tower will most likely confirm the name of the town you’ve reached because that name will be written in huge letters across the tank.  (And yes, of course, rival high schools climb each other’s water towers and graffiti messages of school pride and rivalry onto them with some regularity.) 

So today we headed from water tower to water tower southwest of Madison to reach the town of Henryville.  Sara was not there, but her warm, friendly and very funny son-in-law Brian was.  His family has taken Sara into their home as they help her get organized on repairing and reclaiming hers (both houses stand on the same 200-acre lot). 

Brian showed us some of the damage and described much more that has already been cleaned up.  He walked us through Sara’s house, the back of which is pretty thoroughly blown out but some of which is still standing as if nothing had ever happened.  Glass is shattered throughout the place, including in little spikes driven into the sheetrock walls and (according to the insurance adjuster) microscopically scattered all over her lovely leather living room furniture. 

Huge amounts of debris had been scattered all over the open spaces immediately adjacent to both houses on the lot, but groups of volunteers have come around over the last two weekends and cleaned up most of that mess.  Of course, in 200 acres of land, there is still MUCH work to be done.  While we were there, the sun started to peek out of the clouds and we stood on Sara’s porch and watched wild turkeys strut around in the woods.  We might not have noticed the turkeys at all, but Brian – an avid hunter – could instinctively detect their movement and spot them from far, far away.  He would be in the middle of a sentence, interrupt himself by exclaiming “a gobbler!,” assess the probable weight of the bird, then get back to what he was saying.  He even did a turkey call that clearly got the attention of the biggest of the birds we saw.

We talked about venison and morel mushrooms (if you were a Hoosier you would know about both of these things) and got plans together for some work this Friday on their property.  Brian even offered us the possibility of doing some fishing while we are there.  His two sons, Connor and Tyler, seem like they would be great instructors for those of us who don’t have excellent fishing skills already. 

As the sun got a little braver, we realized that we might be able to make our way back to Joe and Vicky’s and get some work done.  We hoped that the weather there was as good as what was happening in Henryville, though we know the old Midwestern line that says, “if you don’t like the weather, just wait 15 minutes; it’ll change.”

As we started to make our way to Saluda-Paynesville Road (bet you know where that one goes!) we found ourselves pretty much following the “track” of the brutal storms of March 2.  The word we are getting is that this tornado (or set of tornadoes) was a “long-track” tornado, meaning that it hit the ground, stayed there, and plowed forward.  Sometimes tornadoes bounce and hop, touching down from place to place, without necessarily clearing a long path.  As we mentioned yesterday, this storm left a 49-mile track of twisted trees, flattened houses, and downed power lines.  We got a good look at much of it on our drive from Henryville to Paynesville. 

As we were driving through Nabb (you know, at one end of Marysville-Nabb Road) we got a message that we could meet with the homeowner for tomorrow’s job in that town.  We had to switch cell phones three times (reception varies a lot out on these roads) to get arrangements made, but we finally got things together and connected with a family who lost their house, barn, and shop, along with their mother’s neighboring house. On all sides of their property, houses were either torn to pieces but still partially standing or else they were already cleared and burned, leaving only concrete slabs. 

Miraculously, the barn and shop have already been rebuilt by local Mennonites, who will also begin construction on the house very soon.  In preparation for that task, our first job on this property will be to remove the concrete block foundation that used to stand under one of the homes.  Once the old blocks are removed, a basement will be dug (not by us) and a new foundation put in place.  There is also quite a bit of debris in the fields of the property so we are likely to walk those fields to harvest the debris, sorting it into types: metal to be salvaged, personal items to be saved, wood and trash to be burned. 

In addition, we learned that the neighbor across the street was heading up his own tornado recovery process but somehow broke his wrist in just the last couple of days.  If we can find him, we hope to help him keep his plans in motion.  As usual, our plans will evolve and change a great deal in the next few days.  

We hurried away from the house in Nabb so that we could get back over to Joe and Vicky’s, as we had heard from Joe that he managed to restart two of yesterday’s smoldering fires, meaning that things were dry enough to burn.  We hustled over in the late afternoon, expecting to stay an hour or so, but put in three and a half hours of clearing to establish another series of burn piles. 

We systematized the labor by identifying sections using horizontal fallen trees as boundary markers and then dividing the related jobs to clear each new section: some people would clear loose fallen stuff, others would use our battery-powered reciprocating saw to remove small limbs, others would come through with chainsaws to segment the length of the trees and everyone would help carry the remainders to firewood piles (for later use) or burn piles (for immediate ignition).  We learned a lot of techniques by watching Mark’s expert sawmanship yesterday and we employed some of those lessons in our work today. 

As dusk arrived, we decided to stoke up the old fires with new debris added to them and then start two new piles burning.  Out of stubbornness (or maybe stupid-ness) we decided to light these new piles without any accelerant; four of us joined Vicky in trying to get these huge fires going.  Vicky was a pro fire starter so we backed her up on one new fire and put our own plans together on the other.  We won’t belabor the details, but we -- mostly Josh -- made HUGE progress by using a pizza box as a fan.

Then Joe showed up with the secret weapon: a leaf blower.  What happens when you aim a leaf blower into a huge pile of dry wood that already has a healthy fire started is awesome.  The fire grows and changes, shoots high into the air, and – not surprisingly – gets very hot.  Because Joe and Vicky want to watch the fire until it begins to burn out, we wanted to get it as far as we could as fast as we could to help them get some sleep. 

By the time we left it was almost dark, we had not eaten since our late breakfast, and we were tired (and smoky!).  Thus, we were happy to find our friend Karen waiting for us at the house with homemade lasagna from one of her army of donors.  She had also made apple salad (a dish that surprised the Californians, as some had never seen a “salad” that contained marshmallows before).  Soon after our late dinner (or perhaps we should say “supper,” as that is the term of art for the evening meal here) we realized that we were exhausted so we cleaned up quickly and headed for bed. 

Tomorrow our team will gain six new people, so we look forward to seeing how fast we can work when our numbers almost double.  We suggest that you tune in to find out, as we suspect the results will be awesome!  Thanks for reading!  (And thanks for your patience on pictures, which are not yet loading on our current internet setup.)  See you tomorrow.  

An Acre of Fire


Saturday, March 31, 2012

The first two (actually 3!) waves of SMC folk have arrived in Indiana.  Shawny is totally freaking out about the students’ (and former students’) window into her past, but surely the needs that we will help to address will serve to calm her frazzled psyche.  The adjustment has been pretty smooth all in all, as the first wave (Shawny, Dani, Josh, and Scott) arrived on Thursday night and spent most of Friday getting the lay of the land, visiting worksites and borrowing chainsaws (thanks, Blake and Tyler!).  They spent Friday night in Indianapolis with the world’s greatest hosts, Bob and Becky Kevoian. 

Saturday morning brought an airport run (after a hearty Hoosier breakfast of farm fresh eggs, bacon, fresh-squeezed juice and biscuits and gravy) to pick up the latest redeye arrivals, Dennis, Amelia and Gabe.  When that group stopped to grab breakfast on the way south from the Indianapolis airport, they were joined by Spring Break 2006 (New Orleans) vet Johnny Stratton, who drove down from his Ph.D. program in Chicago to spend 24 hours working with the crew. 

We are now based in Madison, Indiana, a river town of about 12,000 or so people on the border between Indiana and Kentucky.  We are staying in every available space in Shawny’s parents’ house and using it as a headquarters to do work in smaller local areas like Paynesville, Nabb, Henryville and Chelsea, all of which were hit very hard by the swarm of tornadoes that cut a swath across the Midwest on March 2.  (Madison itself was spared from damage this time around.)  Despite the destruction we have witnessed already, we have not yet seen the worst of the 49-mile track that the tornado left on the landscape.  Even with what we have seen we can imagine that the experience of this particular storm must have been overwhelming. 

We began our relief work today in Paynesville, working with Vicky and Joe Germano, whose house is still standing, even if damaged, but whose property is a twisted landscape of broken trees and scattered belongings (some their own and some belonging to several other families who live both near and far away).  They have ten acres of destroyed woodland, but they consider themselves incredibly fortunate: all around them are the charred remains of their neighbors’ homes, as the practice for the moment is to salvage whatever can be saved in a ruined house and then burn whatever is left to expedite the recovery process. 

Even more tragic than the loss of these homes is the grim news that their next-door neighbor was one of the fatalities that resulted from the storm that day.  Joe struggles even to look toward that house from his property but like the hardy Midwesterner that he is, he continues to plug away as diligently as he can to take the next step, the next step and the next step that will get his world back on track (or as close as it will ever get to being back on track). 

Today, then, Joe and Vicky (along with their friends Mark, Sara, and Marco) continued the seemingly unending work of clearing fallen and twisted timbers, stacking some into firewood piles that will be hauled away and the rest into “burn piles” (the fate of which is no doubt self-evident).  Little tubs are near every work zone to collect any personal items that are in any way identifiable or that might have sentimental (or other) value to someone out there.  So, under one set of logs and branches, we found the contents of a medicine cabinet, all of which were smashed and unusable (nail polish, a spare hair roller or two – but not a whole set – and some other cosmetics).  Under another we found some garden tools, which went near the “save” bin.  Under another was a smashed and twisted bejeweled ring (noticed and salvaged by Vicky, who has a particularly keen eye for things that might be very small but are also likely very important to their original owners.) 

Joe showed us some of the grotesque artifacts they have found, including shards of metal driven through tree trunks, roof panels twisted and looped around the (few) remaining treetops and even a bird impaled onto a board by a high-velocity steel pin.  At the sight of each of these items, no one can help but to exclaim over the incredible force that this tornado inflicted on its path. 

So our job was to enter into the tangle (already substantially addressed by Joe, Vicky, Mark, Sara, Marco and a host of other volunteers) and start moving pieces of debris one by one, including twigs, branches, whole trees, house parts, roof tiles, tv remotes, and the walls of the shed that used to hold Joe’s mowers, tools, and hardware.  At first it seemed entirely fruitless even to lift the first item and move it, but as the whole group continued to do so, we noticed that we were starting to make a difference in the scene we had first observed. 

There were two substantial burn piles already amassed when we arrived and two smaller ones to which we added much more content.  We created four or five more and as the sun started to fade, we helped Joe light them on fire one by one.  In all we think that about one acre out of the ten that surround Joe and Vicky’s house was on fire.  Strangely, those huge fires counted as a big achievement and a mark of great progress rather than an awful setback.

Like many of the relief trips on which we have participated before, we found ourselves questioning whether we had really come to Indiana to burn and destroy things.  But our doubts quickly vanished when we felt the immensity of the space that we could now navigate, all of which just a few hours before had been occupied by a layer of thick clutter that prevented anyone from moving (easily) more than a foot or so in any direction.  We can see that once we get our whole group here (a total of 16 people will come, but we will never have more than 14 together at one time), we will be able to make even more progress really quickly.

We have to be especially cautious, as the unseasonably high temperatures here have brought out two pernicious enemies: poison ivy and ticks.  So far we haven’t had any problems with either but we know that it is just a matter of time before someone has to deal with one or the other.  We will all keep scanning every apparent abrasion and picking at our own scalps to make sure that we don’t let either of these issues become a big problem for us. 

As for keeping ourselves clean, we have secured an outstanding setup: the women’s basketball coach and assistant coach of nearby Hanover College are friends with Shawny’s sister Shelly and they have offered us the use of the visitors’ locker rooms in their oh-so-impressive athletic facility.  The College is between all of our worksites and the house, so we can just carry towels and a change of clothes and come home clean every day.  The water heater at the house will surely appreciate this arrangement. 

In general, we have plenty of help finding our way around here, as many old family friends of Shawny and her sisters are organizing meals, snacks, excursions, and more.  Every surface on the first floor of the house is covered with homemade baked goods (shoofly pie! buckeyes! oatmeal cream pies! peanut butter fudge! cookies galore!) and other snacks.  The refrigerator is stuffed full of sandwich makings, casseroles, and breakfast foods.  Long-time family friend Karen Modisett is the main coordinator of all of these contributions, making daily runs for the last week or so to get things organized for our arrival and first few days.  We owe many, many thanks to Karen and her network of contacts for the relatively easy situation we face at our Hoosier home. 

We will return to Joe and Vicky’s house on Sunday, with another whole day of clearing and burning woodland.  If we can make good progress we should be able to pick a spot to build Joe a new shed sometime this week so that he can begin to reassemble the tools he needs to do the things hopes to do.  We will also connect with some more families that need help and get a feel for what the other jobs of the week will be. 

Please stay with us as we find our way through southern Indiana and make whatever small contributions of labor we can make to help families turn the corner on this devastating experience.  We have several excellent photographers in our group, but our somewhat sketchy internet setup might thwart our attempts to post pictures.  We will try to find a way . . .

Sunday, March 11, 2012

Tornadoes and Trauma in Indiana



On April 3, 1974, a swarm of tornadoes hit in and around the town of Madison, Indiana, where Shawny grew up.  Shawny and her sister Shelly were at swim practice when the tornado hit so they rode out the storm in the locker room with their teammates.  Their mother, Jan, was at the elementary school where she taught and their father, Myrwin "Red" Anderson, was at a different elementary school where he served as principal.  The other three Anderson kids were away in college.  Red's school (pictured above after the tornado -- click to enlarge) was then called Michigan Road Elementary; it was completely destroyed.  The school was later rebuilt and expanded and, in 1989, was re-named Anderson Elementary School, after Shawny's dad.

11 people died in Madison due to the tornado that day and 190 more were hospitalized.  The Andersons and their home were all okay.  Most of the family's efforts, then, centered around the destroyed school and all of the tasks required to rebuild it.

The first task was to sort through the rubble and debris to salvage anything that could be reused by  students as they relocated to a different building to complete the school year.  Fortunately, the Andersons had the help of their oldest daughter, Sherry, who hurried down from Ball State University with as many of her fellow students as she could muster.  Those college students worked side-by-side with the Andersons to get the new school organized as quickly as possible.

Now, 38 years later, another swarm of tornadoes has struck the area, sparing Madison itself, but devastating farms and homes throughout Jefferson County and beyond.

And so, it is time for another group of college students to repay the favor of those Ball State students from decades ago.

Please wish us well.


[The black and white images above and in the background were taken by aerial photographer Jim Pirtle of Madison.  They are posted on a website focused on the 1974 "super swarm": http://www.april31974.com/indiana_tornado_data.htm]