Florence

Florence

Let me start by apologizing for not posting a blog last Sunday, September 15th, things were a little hectic in this area. We were in the last days of dealing with hurricane Florence. We went several days with no power, no WiFi and no internet. I have lived in the same small town, across the Cape Fear River from Wilmington NC, my entire life. I have been through several tropical storms and many hurricanes in my fifty three years, but I have never lived through what hurricane Florence brought to our front door. This hurricane was large, it was powerful and it was slow. This storm brought rain unlike any storm I have ever seen before. In most cases a hurricane will make landfall and be gone in a less than a day, I am referring to the very first heavy rain band until the last warm breeze hours later. They usually come, dump inches of rain, do their destruction and leave. Florence must have really been tired from her journey across the Atlantic Ocean, because she decided to sit down right here on the entire southern coast of North Carolina and visit for a while. For two and a half days she poured rain from her dark nemising clouds, and her winds blew continually, only stopping as if she was taking a deep breath to blow again. 

I have seen the best in people and I have seen the worst. I have seen humans giving everything they have to help a neighbor and I have seen humans taking everything a neighbor has. I have seen people giving, because they have extra, and others having nothing. I have seen people taking from another, just because they can. I have seen damage from wind and I have seen devastation from water. I have seen entire homes flooded and everything within the walls of that home lost to the rivers, creeks, lakes and the 2 plus feet of rain Florence poured on our part of the world. I have seen first responders rescue families from their roof tops and I have seen people steal a family’s last gallon of gas from their generator. I have seen insurance companies, contractors and charitable organization helping the masses with answers, repairs, shelter and food. I have also seen the bottom feeders of the world trying to take the last dollar a family has pretending to be one of the good guys. Times like these bring out the good in so many, and unfortunately, it brings out the worst as well. The power workers, the linemen, the men and woman that leave their families to travel hours, even days, to come to our towns, our cities, our neighborhoods to help. The few that complain because someone else has power and they still don’t. These linemen put their own lives in danger trying to restore what we have come to take for granted and they do it for complete strangers.

The saddest day, for me, was Wednesday the 19th day of September. I received a call from my brother, he was at his storage unit and it had flooded. Almost two feet of water had filled his unit and several containers that held so many precious memories. All the memories of his children, the books, the journals, the photographs all destroyed. All the books that he and my sister in law had read to their children as they grew and saved to read to their grandchildren. The retirement memories from my brothers school, my grandfathers bible, my sister in laws hope chest that held so many cherished items. As I stood there and looked at years of memories stuffed in garbage bags, it broke my heart. I knew how much each and every memory meant to them. They kept saying over and over again, “It is just stuff, we still have each other.” No matter, it still hurts to see so many years of your life ravished, ruined and now residing in large black plastic bags bound for the county landfill. So many items never to be looked at or held again. So many things that will not cover the walls of their new home, so many trinkets and souvenirs that would bring a smile as it sat on a shelf, gone. My sister in law came over to me and gave me a big hug, I thought to myself I should be hugging her. Then she said these words, “We have lost a lot, but you have lost so much more.” What a loving and profound statement that fit our situation and the situation of so many after a catastrophic storm. Possessions can be replaced, houses can be rebuilt, new memories can be made, but nothing can replace the loss of a loved one.

My Club…

My Club…

A Freemason, everyone knows a Mason, my great grandfather was a Mason. Being a Mason is not a secret, what it takes to become a Mason is somewhat of a secret. I am not going to get into all the religious and political debates about the Freemason’s. I am only using them as an example of a club, a fraternity of men of any race or religion, that have certain requirements to become a member of their group. A fraternity or sorority, usually groups on a college campus, that require certain criteria to become a member. You are a “pledge,” you do whatever an existing brother or sister tells you to do for a period of time, you pass all the tests and then you are a member for life. Like the Freemason you will have a bond, a brother, or sisterhood to look after you and help protect you for as long as you are alive.  The United States Special Forces, The Seals, Rangers, Green Berets, Delta Forces, 82nd Airborne. I am sure I missed a few so please forgive me if I did not list a specific unit. All are elite, all require special, rigorous, physically challenging training and sacrifice. All take a certain type of person or personality to be a member of these special forces for our country. When they place that pin, that represents their respected unit, on their chest they are a member of a brotherhood that will watch their six for life. God bless them all for what they do. Athletes spend years training, practicing, sacrificing for the one goal, to be the best. To be at the absolute top of their game, to be number one. Athletes train for one reason, to win. They sacrifice for one reason, to win. When they win, they win as a team, they are called a winning club. It does not matter if it is a team or individual sport there are always others members in the background, a club, supporting the athlete for success. AARP, a club for anyone age 50 or over. That’s it you just have to be fifty years old to join. This club gives you discounts, insurance, and several other benefits. Now to remain a member you must pay your dues on time. The Black Panthers and Klu Klux Klan, very racially divided clubs. Obviously the race of the member told what club or group they were in. What other requirements were involved I do not know and do not care to know. I am only using these two groups to show how race can determine the membership to a club. The country club, bike club, tennis club, car club, the list can go on forever for the amount and the different types of clubs there are in this world.

To gain memberships to every club or team I have mentioned above there are certain agenda’s, ceremonies or requirements that have to be met. There are tests that have to be passed, whether they be mental or physical. Some are gender, race, age or religion specific. My club has none of these. My club has only one requirement. My club does not discriminate. It does not matter how old you are, it does not matter what race you are, it does not matter where you are from, it does not matter what your financial situation is, it does not matter what religion you practice, it does not matter what your marital status is. There are no temple rituals, there are no pledge weeks, there are no classes, there is no training, there is no manual, or how to book, on becoming a member of my club. There is no preparation required, there is no tryouts, there is no spring training, there is no week long camps. You can become a member in a split second, the blink of an eye, or it could take many painful drawn out years. There is sacrifice, there is pain, there is sadness and there is regret. Each member feels as if there is no team, no club, no brotherhood, each of our members feel alone. There is loneliness and there is depression. There is no book, no guide or no chart that can tell you what to expect when you become a member. There are no guidelines to get you from day to day, week to week, month to month, or year to year. There are dues, dues that can never be recovered. Dues are paid once, or in some cases multiple times, but when they are paid it is the ultimate sacrifice for membership. You would be amazed at how many members there are, your neighbors, your childhood friends, your co-workers, your landscaper, your cable guy, your high school teacher, that lady or gentleman sitting at the next table while you are eating dinner. We don’t have rings, special pins, uniforms, T-shirts or jerseys to wear to let everyone know what club we are in or what team we are on. We don’t have a logo or a team mascot, we don’t need them. You will recognize our club members by seeing the empty chair at a holiday dinner table, the weekly trip to the cemetery, the room that is still the same as it was that day, the box that is filled with special memories, the photos of a child that never gets any older, but the one true give away is that huge hole in our hearts. I never dreamed of, applied for, tried out for, or asked to be in this club, and I would not wish its membership on anyone. I pray everyday that no other parent has to pay the ultimate dues to become a member of my club.