Louisville
As my roommate Chris and I drove North out of Meridian early this afternoon, I couldn't stop thinking about that morning's flight. Due to an upcoming training detachment, the squadron has been using up all the available daily simulator events to get a group of students complete before they can head out west and practice dropping bombs for the first time. Prior to flying any syllabus stage (formation, weapons, instrument navigation, to name a few) in the jet, the students (and sometimes instructors like me) have to complete similar tasks in one of the 8 or so simulators in a building across the parking lot from the hangars. There, the Sim instructors (again, old retirees) drill the students in their procedures, give them Emergencies and all manner of challenges while they attempt to successfully pilot their $15million incredibly realistic video game cockpits.
So, to summarize, I've been on hold until the Students can get complete in the box and let loose in the jets. That means that I haven't been doing very much aviating and so, to assuage my withdrawal symptoms I've signed up for a few backseat rides in jets that would have otherwise been flown by an instructor solo. Typically these flights are formation flight leads, where the solo instructor leads another jet that's flown by a student and an instructor. Additionally, I get the benefit of getting flight experience while not being graded on my proficiency. It's fun and feels like cheating.
So we launched, did the usual maneuvers and it was great. However, at one point I noticed off the right wing this weird looking brown streak on the ground. There wasn't a river nearby and it was far too big to be man-made. I couldn't figure it out until I remembered that a tornado had gone through the town of Louisville a day and a half ago. I pulled out my chart and sure enough this 30-40 mile streak went right through the town.
After we landed, I couldn't shake that image out of my head. Even from 12,000 feet you could see the path of destruction, the broken trees, the crushed farm structures, the dust and debris strewn for roughly a mile on either side. Not only do I have friends up there in Louisville, but I've never seen or experienced anything like that before.
I also remembered how in a lot of disasters, so many people will write checks or send food and clothing, which is great, but so many times also results in warehouses filled with stuff. I wondered how many people, aside from people who work for aid organizations full time, actually get in their cars and go to disaster sites to help out? Knowing that I had the day off and possibly the next day (I don't, actually), I went to Chris and said "hey dude, you got anything going on the rest of the day?" he said, "nope" and then I said, "wanna drive up to Louisville and see if we can help out with this tornado thing, it looked pretty bad from the air." After a long pause, he said sure and we headed on up.
My friend Cara's parents directed us to where some of the disaster relief people where, who directed us to a lady who worked for the Mississippi Emergency Management Agency (FEMA was still out assessing the damage to see if it qualified for a Federal Emergency) and she directed us to this slick, brand new, semi-trailer command post of an organization called, "Samaritan's Purse."
After about 5 minutes, the diminutive and Christian-theme tattooed blonde running the show had us sign release forms, handed us t-shirts, a map and work-request forms. We were suddenly damage surveyors whose job was to canvas affected neighborhoods looking for people who needed a work team to help clean up their property, repair their roof or otherwise fix the damage.
We drove to the neighborhood that she circled on the map and in doing so crossed the path of the tornado. I've never seen destruction like that in my entire life. Hollywood disaster movies and nightly news reels don't come close to the 360 degree reality of being at ground zero. I realized that no matter how bad CNN might make a scene look, you're only seeing it through a straw. You can't look to the side and behind to see trees broken like matchsticks far in the distance. You can't be surprised when you drive over downed and dead power lines while distracted by other areas of rubble. It was incredibly narrow, the area of destruction, but when you were in the middle, looking down the track, it went on forever. Around us, there was activity everywhere. Police and fire were combing miles of wreckage. Power company trucks were everywhere, putting up new telephone poles and power lines like bees repairing their hive (the power company was freaking impressive, by the way, those guys work hard and very fast).
Well we went to a neighborhood just outside the direct path of the F4 "double vortex" tornado. There we found that most of the immediate damage had been repaired and the residents were waiting on the insurance adjusters. It was heartening to see how resilient everyone was, despite having the roofs of their houses blown off. One family clearly still had their sense of humor:
(The sign reads: "Home for Sale, Some Assembly Required")
We walked around, talked to folks, handed out flyers and even had a few people sign up to potentially have crews help cut the trees that had fallen on or near their houses. Even though we were physically helping them cleaning up, it felt good to go through there, organize things a bit and get the wheels in motion to get their lives back on track. I think even the folks who didn't need our help appreciated us being there.
When that was finished and we'd seen it all, we returned to the command post, checked back in and departed for the day. If I can get my simulator done and get myself ready for the next one in time, I'll try to head back up tomorrow and lend a hand again.
Well afterwards we met up with my friend Cara's parents in Louisville. I was really happy to see that their house was undamaged despite being probably about a mile or less from the hospital that took an almost direct hit. Chris and I went to a Church meeting with them, which was really nice especially because they had a potluck dinner for everyone and we were starving.
It was another example of how, even though we didn't do a whole lot, people really appreciated us being there and so I was really happy that we decided to make the drive. During the dinner we heard stories about hospital patients almost being sucked out of their wards. One man said he was on his porch as the storm approached and a pine cone dropped in the middle of his driveway, which was strange because the nearest pine tree was about a mile away. At that point, he decided to go down to the basement. Yet not all the stories were heroic or humorous. I heard about the town's coroner who needed prayers to get through his current ordeal. The lady sitting next to me told me about how the police, fire and rescue personnel needed counseling to help deal with some of the things or parts that they were finding in the wreckage. They were currently searching for the remains of a 7 year old boy, which would increase the death toll to 10, though there are still others unaccounted for.
I was in the middle of a community that was in the middle of a tragedy. I don't think I've experienced anything as real or as raw since I was a volunteer EMT in my NYC-area hometown on September 11, 2001. I wish the news media would cover this with more attention than, say, some crotchety racist NBA team own, but I'm no producer, though I'd say it's one of the more impressive things I've seen, watching all the emergency personnel and relief organizations mobilize to help this small town and surrounded countryside. It's another thing I'm proud to have been a part of and if you feel like donating, the Red Cross is on scene and "Samaritan's Purse" is actually a pretty impressive organization!
Best,
Jamie
So, to summarize, I've been on hold until the Students can get complete in the box and let loose in the jets. That means that I haven't been doing very much aviating and so, to assuage my withdrawal symptoms I've signed up for a few backseat rides in jets that would have otherwise been flown by an instructor solo. Typically these flights are formation flight leads, where the solo instructor leads another jet that's flown by a student and an instructor. Additionally, I get the benefit of getting flight experience while not being graded on my proficiency. It's fun and feels like cheating.
So we launched, did the usual maneuvers and it was great. However, at one point I noticed off the right wing this weird looking brown streak on the ground. There wasn't a river nearby and it was far too big to be man-made. I couldn't figure it out until I remembered that a tornado had gone through the town of Louisville a day and a half ago. I pulled out my chart and sure enough this 30-40 mile streak went right through the town.
After we landed, I couldn't shake that image out of my head. Even from 12,000 feet you could see the path of destruction, the broken trees, the crushed farm structures, the dust and debris strewn for roughly a mile on either side. Not only do I have friends up there in Louisville, but I've never seen or experienced anything like that before.
I also remembered how in a lot of disasters, so many people will write checks or send food and clothing, which is great, but so many times also results in warehouses filled with stuff. I wondered how many people, aside from people who work for aid organizations full time, actually get in their cars and go to disaster sites to help out? Knowing that I had the day off and possibly the next day (I don't, actually), I went to Chris and said "hey dude, you got anything going on the rest of the day?" he said, "nope" and then I said, "wanna drive up to Louisville and see if we can help out with this tornado thing, it looked pretty bad from the air." After a long pause, he said sure and we headed on up.
My friend Cara's parents directed us to where some of the disaster relief people where, who directed us to a lady who worked for the Mississippi Emergency Management Agency (FEMA was still out assessing the damage to see if it qualified for a Federal Emergency) and she directed us to this slick, brand new, semi-trailer command post of an organization called, "Samaritan's Purse."
After about 5 minutes, the diminutive and Christian-theme tattooed blonde running the show had us sign release forms, handed us t-shirts, a map and work-request forms. We were suddenly damage surveyors whose job was to canvas affected neighborhoods looking for people who needed a work team to help clean up their property, repair their roof or otherwise fix the damage.
We drove to the neighborhood that she circled on the map and in doing so crossed the path of the tornado. I've never seen destruction like that in my entire life. Hollywood disaster movies and nightly news reels don't come close to the 360 degree reality of being at ground zero. I realized that no matter how bad CNN might make a scene look, you're only seeing it through a straw. You can't look to the side and behind to see trees broken like matchsticks far in the distance. You can't be surprised when you drive over downed and dead power lines while distracted by other areas of rubble. It was incredibly narrow, the area of destruction, but when you were in the middle, looking down the track, it went on forever. Around us, there was activity everywhere. Police and fire were combing miles of wreckage. Power company trucks were everywhere, putting up new telephone poles and power lines like bees repairing their hive (the power company was freaking impressive, by the way, those guys work hard and very fast).
Well we went to a neighborhood just outside the direct path of the F4 "double vortex" tornado. There we found that most of the immediate damage had been repaired and the residents were waiting on the insurance adjusters. It was heartening to see how resilient everyone was, despite having the roofs of their houses blown off. One family clearly still had their sense of humor:
We walked around, talked to folks, handed out flyers and even had a few people sign up to potentially have crews help cut the trees that had fallen on or near their houses. Even though we were physically helping them cleaning up, it felt good to go through there, organize things a bit and get the wheels in motion to get their lives back on track. I think even the folks who didn't need our help appreciated us being there.
When that was finished and we'd seen it all, we returned to the command post, checked back in and departed for the day. If I can get my simulator done and get myself ready for the next one in time, I'll try to head back up tomorrow and lend a hand again.
Well afterwards we met up with my friend Cara's parents in Louisville. I was really happy to see that their house was undamaged despite being probably about a mile or less from the hospital that took an almost direct hit. Chris and I went to a Church meeting with them, which was really nice especially because they had a potluck dinner for everyone and we were starving.
It was another example of how, even though we didn't do a whole lot, people really appreciated us being there and so I was really happy that we decided to make the drive. During the dinner we heard stories about hospital patients almost being sucked out of their wards. One man said he was on his porch as the storm approached and a pine cone dropped in the middle of his driveway, which was strange because the nearest pine tree was about a mile away. At that point, he decided to go down to the basement. Yet not all the stories were heroic or humorous. I heard about the town's coroner who needed prayers to get through his current ordeal. The lady sitting next to me told me about how the police, fire and rescue personnel needed counseling to help deal with some of the things or parts that they were finding in the wreckage. They were currently searching for the remains of a 7 year old boy, which would increase the death toll to 10, though there are still others unaccounted for.
I was in the middle of a community that was in the middle of a tragedy. I don't think I've experienced anything as real or as raw since I was a volunteer EMT in my NYC-area hometown on September 11, 2001. I wish the news media would cover this with more attention than, say, some crotchety racist NBA team own, but I'm no producer, though I'd say it's one of the more impressive things I've seen, watching all the emergency personnel and relief organizations mobilize to help this small town and surrounded countryside. It's another thing I'm proud to have been a part of and if you feel like donating, the Red Cross is on scene and "Samaritan's Purse" is actually a pretty impressive organization!
Best,
Jamie
posted by James @ 9:25 PM
2 Comments
2 Comments:
Damn, man. Thanks for sharing - glad you were able to get in there and help out! Glad (otherwise) the move has been good so far! Enjoyed having you stop by.
Thanks Chris, it was pretty intense but I'm glad I went and was able to help. It was also very sobering how random it was with one nearly forming near Meridian as well that night. Anywho, it was good seeing you too (and the plant survived!), let me know how things are going!
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