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Tuscaloosa, Alabama July/August 2011



Earl's Thoughts on His Trip to Tuscaloosa


Since I retired two years ago, I have been wanting to do some sort of volunteer work but then I wasn't really retired, still working doing all sorts of different jobs. Consulting, photography, music, etc. I even had to miss a chance to go help with Katrina because it was a critical time at my former job. But our church decided to do a mission trip to Tuscaloosa to help with the relief effort and to me it looked like a perfect opportunity to go and do some good and give back a little of the good fortune that has been mine.


So I offered to go and do the work and to take pictures so that there would be a record for our church. When I did that, they asked if I would play music as well. So now my relief effort is to go and play music and take pictures? Well OK! I told Ron, our leader for the trip, that sounds like Mary Magdelene to me, taking the best of the chores. I don't think he still gets the reference, but I do. I thought my job would be soft compared to working in the field and doing manual labor and I wasn't really sure that I would actually be doing something useful. But I agreed to go.


The goal of our church was to go and cook for the relief workers and the people there who were left homeless by the tornado. It was believed that there would be hundreds of these folks to feed and we took the appropriate amount of food, the equipment to cook it and the people to prepare and serve it. Amazingly, much of the food ended up being donated. It really was going to be a Herculean effort. It made my role seem even smaller.


It just so turns out that the way to Tuscaloosa passes close to the property in Alabama where my mom was brought up and still has a trailer on the property so I offered to take her there and drop her off on the way and pick her up when I was on the way home. In this text I cannot adequately describe you what a thrill that is for her and she enthusiastically agreed and starting making plans. Now these plans include getting ready for a concert that we are going to do in that little community at a church that sits empty and unused on our property. It will be the first event in that part of the state in 40 years.


Well as time approached, my wife Mari was offered a gig doing a mural and it looked like I might need to stay home and help her since it will require work that she cannot actually do alone. So we began to stress, or maybe it was just me that was stressing. Staying home and doing something valuable or going to Tuscaloosa to take pictures and play music, which seemed pretty trivial at the time. I had a chance to talk to Ron and he encouraged me strongly that my role would be very useful and I said I would do my best, and, serendipitously, Mari's gig was postponed. So it was decided, off to the relief effort.


My mom and I had a great trip up to Mt. Union and along the way I straighted her out on a lot of political and religious matters. (Yeah, right!)


On a Wednesday morning, I drove from Mt. Union to Tuscaloosa just in time to set up my equipment for the lunch event. I had no idea what to expect but one thing I did not expect was to be playing outdoors in 95 degree heat and no breeze. There was a church there at the site where we were to be providing meals and I had thought we would be inside. But NO, we were outside, albeit under some tents, and it was HOT HOT HOT. But, no whining, I just had to set up and get started. I had brought my portable PA system and some cordless microphones so there was a bit of work to do before I could start but I got it done and started playing.


When people started arriving from the fields ( and by fields I mean wherever they were being used to remove rubble) they plopped down and pretty much were exhausted and morose. The devastation, the heat, the complete sadness of the situation were just a lot to handle. They just had a stunned look on their faces. But I just kept playing. All of my songs were about hope in some way and they seemed strangely incongruous with the downtrodden demeanor of the workers. At first they just were looking at me like an alien from outer space. But I kept playing.


Fortunately the burgers (day one's meal) were served and it seemed to cheer everyone up a bit and when I would finish a song the workers would give me a fairly lifeless ovation. I was thrilled with that but I didn't realize that I was starting to get to them in a good way. Their appreciation seemed to gather steam until they had to leave. Not much was said that day as they went back to their work.


After everyone was gone and I ate my burger (which by the way was the last one that was saved for my by Chanda, one of our mission workers) and I realized that I was famished and so thirsty. I had played for about an hour and a half and a large portion of that time was spent toweling myself off. Man it was hot!


Then I packed up my equipment and headed out to take pictures of the tornado damage. It wasn't hard to find. I drove down street after street with houses that were either severely damaged, destroyed or just completely gone with nothing left but a slab of concrete and flowers or shrubs. If you were a tree, you were no longer there. I was stunned at the amount of devastation but equally stunned to see residences that were untouched right next to houses that were just blown up from the inside out. It was an eerie sight. I got nowhere near being done.


The next day I showed up earlier and had a little more time so I played some recorded music for the folks who were preparing the food while I looked through some of my songbooks. As I was bringing my equipment from the car to the tent, there was a young woman walking down the road carrying a rather impressive camera and she motioned for me to come over to her. I did and she told me that what she was there from Ohio to help but what she was seeing there was so overwhelming and sad that she was contemplating giving up and going back home. But, she said, that the day before she was listening to my songs and being surrounded by the message of hope that she was renewed and ready to redouble her efforts. She thanked me again. I was bewildered or something like it. She told me that I inspired her and I told her, and genuinely so, that if anyone was inspired it was me. I hugged her and thanked her. She went back to work and I finished setting up.


I believed that there would be a different crowd each day. But when lunch time came around the folks from Ohio, and I am going to use the word 'rushed', to get to the tables near where I was set up. They had a completely different look to them. They were glad to be there. OK, I know it was really because they knew they would get fed and watered but there was more to it and I could tell. When I would finish a song they would clap earnestly and actually call out my name. Now I don't even know how they learned my name but someone at least had to ask. Since the same folks were there from the day before I had to dig up new songs (an hour and a half) so I was reading the music as I played and not looking out very much. At the end of one of my songs, which I thought I had done well, there was no clapping or really no sounds at all. I looked up and saw that everyone was busily chowing down on their BBQ ribs. There was a little moment where they realized that I wasn't playing and they weren't responding and we looked at each other. Several of them broke out in laughter and started clapping with one hand and saying "Thank you Earl". Still, we know what's important, it's the ribs, and I will tell you that they were yummy!


After they finished, some of them turned their chairs toward my makeshift stage. One man in particular loved what I was doing, and said to me, "I could sit here all day and listen". I don't think I have ever felt so blessed for simply singing. It was awesome.


It came time for them to leave and as they did they all said goodbye. Wow. So I ate a few ribs (once again rescued for me by Chanda) packed up and headed back out to get more pictures. I managed to make a pretty large dent in the tornado path this time but continued to find new places of twisted metal, missing homes and busted trees. By this time I had taken at least 1,000 pictures. I went back to my hotel and spent some time editing them that evening.


There next day I set up my stage, played some more recorded music for the food guys, and then started my set. This time when the workers showed up they were practically giddy. They were laughing and this time they not only turned their chairs toward me but a couple of them brought their chairs over from their tables and sat right in front of me. Now they were talking to me between songs, calling my name and clapping loudly. You may not know how hard it is to get church people to clap during a song but It is hard. During my song "Keys to the Kingdom" they spontaneously began to clap along. It was simply amazing and so uplifting. I sang an extra refrain. Friday's meal was Jambalaya. May be it was the Cajun food that got them so fired up.


Once again when it was over, they all called out goodbye as they left. I was sad to see them go.


That was my last day. I went and picked up my mom and headed home. On the way home she told me that a young man in the community wanted to start a Boy Scout troop and they were going to use the church there as their home base. In return they are going to fix up the place and help us with the concert. Wow.


Last night at church supper, I played a slideshow of the pictures so that our congregation could get a feel for the mission trip. They were moved and appreciative to be able to see through my eyes the devastation but also the participation of their church.


In the end it turned out that Ron was right. My music and photography were valuable after all and helped make a difference for people working in the fields all the way back to Gainesville. Covenant, thank you so much for giving me this wonderful opportunity!




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