Tornado Entry: 8

I’m taking the weekend off from the volunteer work. Burn out is setting in. There is not a lack of bodies so I really won’t be missed. If anything, there are too many volunteers at this stage to effectively organize.

I’m amazed at the variety of people who have turned out from all over the country. This has opened my eyes to a dilemma I can see no answer to. So many of the kids I’ve worked with have no mechanical skills. They are great at using their I Phone applications, but they can’t fathom how to roll out plastic and nail furring strips. I won’t even go into how to use basic hand tools. They are afraid to climb a ladder: let alone walk on a roof. We are only working on low pitched roofs on single story houses.

I’m guessing it is generational. I have to realize the world I grew up in does not exist anymore. The other day to kill the time while working, I told the story of how disappointed my dad used to be when he was teaching me to swing a hammer and use a hand saw. “You will be handicapped for the rest of your life because you are left handed.” he used to moan. It was a goal of my life to prove him wrong! I can’t imagine a parent telling their child that today. My dad did not say that to belittle me, it was just how he saw the world. At that point in time it was a right handed world. The nun’s were still smacking kids’ knuckles with rulers if they used their left hand. In hindsight, fighting that “handicap” made me a stronger person and taught me coping skills. I’m just hoping the kid are learning from their experience.

Let me document my adventure to Birmingham on Thursday. I first had to unload the tools from the truck bed. I pulled up a map to the Yellow Freight Terminal. It did not look right, remembering the map I checked weeks ago. What I should have done is go to the Yellow Freight Sight and search out the location there. Instead I used a Google Search. I pulled the map from the top search.

I get there fine, but the terminal is for UFS Holland. I went to the shipping office. The shipping clerk was unbelievable. I’m always in awe of how competent people can manipulate the system. She told me how this location USED to be that of Yellow Freight. In no time at all she had the new address and a phone number I could use.

BINGO!!! A phone number!!! The biggest uncertainty I have had for this entire transaction was the lack of contact. I went to the trouble desk of the Yellow Freight Site and was able to make E-mail contact with the Birmingham office. The numbers I originally had directed me to “Voicemail Hell”.

I programmed the address into my GPS and called the number. Mercifully a human answered. I told him where I was and I would be at the terminal ASAP. He told me to NOT follow the GPS. “It will take to places you should not be.” Is how he phrased it. Instead, he gave me detailed directions. Having worked in shipping and directing truckers to my old plant, I relaxed and followed his instructions. They were perfect.

The trucker brought out my fire hydrant. It was braced to a large pallet. It arrived in great shape. The tow-motor operator was kind of incredulous over this. He was a “good old boy” and could not understand the attraction of this old hydrant! We were abke to easily lift it out of the bracing and load it onto the back of my truck. I then had to repack the 15 boxes of tee shirts.

From here I had to head to the Samaritan’s Purse location in Hueytown. I had the vaguest directions as to where this location was, just off I-20/59. I did a Google map printout for the general area. I had the road name and exit number. I found the church easily and quickly unloaded the tee shirts. I wanted to just get home.

I drove on autopilot getting home about 6:45.

Friday I showed up in my Utilikilt. People loved it. Got my crew together and we headed back out to Alberta City. A tree had to be chainsawed up, roof tarping needed to be put up, and lots of cleaning had to be done. This job was the area we were at on Tuesday. There was already tarping on the roof, but it needed a lot more coverage.

Myself and my roofing partner were the only ones with the courage (?) to attempt the roofing. We were the oldest ones on the crew! He had a long 20oz carpenter’s hammer he let me try out. I need to get me one of those!

My roofing partner and I.

This group came as a church function. I’m real careful to watch what I say, but sometimes things slip out. I just got back up on the roof when I realized I had forgotten to bring up the pail of nails. “Oh shit” I said in frustration. It so happened one of the ladies was peeking over the ladder for a view of the carnage and heard me. She gave me the most horrified look. I apologized profusely… it just slipped out.

The police are still searching the area with cadaver dogs. I was relating to Sherri later how I saw the crew do a double take at me as they passed the house. “Jesus, they have had enough shock already, they don’t need anymore from you wearing that kilt!” she laughed back to me.

The homeowner came by and was overwhelmed at the clean up. He told me how he is working four different jobs to make ends meet. This house is where his elderly mother lives. She was in physical rehabilitation at the time the storm hit. He is thinking the house may be borderline on saving. He broke down and told me how he had made a promise to his mother he would not remove anything from the house until she was dead.

I’ve heard more stories like this. I’m getting to where I don’t choke up anymore, which means my amour is bring formed for dealing with this. This reminds me too much of how I lived in the late 1980’s dealing with losing friends to the AIDS epidemic. The first deaths were devastating: after I hit 20 or so I became numb. I stopped counting when I hit 50 in the early 1990’s. I don’t ever want to see that list I kept again.

My crew headed back to the church once we did the final clean up. Only one guy, Mitch was working an eight hour shift besides me. There were only a few small jobs. I picked up another addition, Mark and we headed out.

We stopped on the way at the Moose Lodge where a food distribution center was set up. There is such an abundance of food being handed out to those who need it. I got a bar-b-que sandwich, beans and corn, and ice cold water. Mitch had a ¼ chicken and I don’t know what else. I can’t eat heavy in the middle of the day anymore.

Three guys joined us. They were burly guys, one looked like “Dog” the bounty hunter. They were there representing some firm (I’m not going to give it here) to represent homeowners against the insurance companies. They gave us cards to pass out. I did not want to say we were not in that position to influence the homeowners in any way. We are just there to clean and secure the house as best as we can. I just took a stack of cards to close the issue. If anything it just smelled of scam to me.

To get to the next job we had to drive down Crescent Ridge Road. This is closed to all but residents and emergency vehicles. Browns Nursery, where I get all my plants is on this thoroughfare. This is some of the worst damage I’ve seen. Mitch pointed out how the trees were snapped off where the tornado was not on the ground. Then we got to the area where it was on the ground. This is not a “high rent” area: rubble and bare ground seemed to stretch for miles.

Our next stop was to check out a tarp and tree removal. This is a scary roof in the house is built onto the hill. The back is some 3 stories off the ground. No way I’m going up there. The tarp looked like it was professionally put up: much better than we could have done. I’m thinking people are assuming we are roofing experts.

Mark, Mitch and I cleaned up the brush we could. The large trunks are going to need a bob-cat to clear. We met with the homeowner. We explained what we had done and what she could expect for removing the tree trunks. Then she asked the fatal question, “What church do you belong to?” Mitch gave his church right out. I explained I did not belong to a church, and let it lay there. Religion is so touchy here, you really have tread on eggshells sometimes.

There was one last call on Arcadia Dr. My GPS got us there with only one wrong turn. This was called in for turned up shingles, and possible tarping. Three of the three tab shingles were blown up. I was able to untangle them to lie flat. Some roofing tar would have made the job complete. We can’t do repair work… just the major covering. The last thing you want to do is to nail holes in a good roof when they are not needed. I pulled out some of the small sticks jammed under the shingles and cleared off the small branches.

We had to drive back on Crescent Ridge to get back to the church. I went real slow and was able to make out the metal frames of the greenhouses. Hopefully, Browns will recover.

I returned all my Samaritan’s Purse supplies. I told them I was taking the weekend off and would be back Monday. I need time for myself to recoup after all I have witnessed this past week….

Mitch, Me, and Mark the afternoon team