Nashville
Tornado
Disaster Relief Memoir
Ming
Lien
Buckled
and settled into the Salvation Army disaster relief van, I slipped
off my clogs and rested my achy feet on top of the stacks of flattened
cardboard boxes. They had replaced the cartons of food we loaded
that morning. To the soft murmur of the conversation behind me
and the gentle rock of the van, I began to watch the documentary
recorded in my mind. This was Tuesday, April 11, 2006, four days
after the tornado gutted Gallatin, Tennessee. I, with seven other
Hope Force International reservists, followed the trail of service
and love blazed by previous volunteers.
We began the day at the Madison Salvation Army Church during which
we met our team leaders and members, unloaded and loaded the van
with the necessary goods, and prayed for Jesus' love to shine
through us. Before this day, I didn't realize how much Salvation
Army's philosophy paralleled Jesus' ministry. He touched lives
through meeting practical needs. Here, we will meet their practical
needs for food and lend a listening ear to their stories. Upon
the conclusion of our prayer, we loaded into the van and headed
toward Gallatin.
A noticeable silence settled upon us as we entered the area. Cars
that once shone with pride now crushed and crumbled from debris.
Buildings that glistened with windows now stood naked against
the sun. Century-old trees snapped and uprooted like dried-up
twigs. Aside from the flashing sign at the nearby McDonald, "We
are Open," the area looked like a ghost town peppered with
demolished cars and broken glass. Groaning with pain, a twisted
aluminum siding from the Nissan dealership flapped in the wind.
A helicopter hovered above taking an aerial view of the scene.
Passing the business district around Volunteer State Community
College, we entered the residential subdivisions. There, police
officers blocked the entrance to check valid ID's. The place buzzed
with life as workers repaired power lines, cleared downed trees,
and cleaned up debris. At that time, we further divided into three
different groups. One group stayed with the stationary canteen.
The remaining two traveled with the mobile canteens. I joined
one of the mobile groups. Like popping popcorns, the metal walls
of the canteen rattled as we traveled to our final destination.
Once arrived, we began to set-up shop. We opened the canteen,
moved the coolers and chips outside, and reorganized the inside
for more working room. While David and Anne, fellow Hope Force
reservists, spread the word of hot lunch to the neighborhood,
I helped Ron, our leader, cook. My excellent skills and wealth
of knowledge warranted several quizzical looks and finally the
comment from Ron, "You don't cook much, do you?" Gosh,
it was obvious wasn't it? I didn't even know how to make coffee
or how big or small to cut the French bread. We Asian folks never
slice bread for meals, nor do I, Miss Bland, ever drink coffee.
Preparing Western food for the mass is an educational experience
for me, indeed.
Shortly after, people began to come. Tired eyes shaded by baseball
caps, they all smiled with appreciation as we handed them hot
chili with bread (that I sliced!). They had already spent days
in the sun cutting and hauling broken branches and other debris.
One man came from a northern state. He had traveled south hoping
to hunt raccoons. Upon hearing about the tornado, he came to help
instead. Another man lived in one of the corner lots. The tornado
skipped his home but took all his immediate neighbors' houses.
"We have pieces of everyone else's house in our yard,"
his wife commented.
After everyone who came had their fill of food, I took a walk
with Anne around the neighborhood per Ron's suggestion. The sights
that met my eyes made me cringe. One house stood exposing its
kitchen and compartments to the public. Another lost its roof,
allowing the sunlight into the basement. Many less fortunate had
only concrete foundations to mark the original place as piles
of appliances littered the yard. One house even lost parts of
its foundation. Twisted metal wrapped around branches like a nylon
ribbon. A beaten spoon curled in half. A child's shoe was lost
among broken glass. Close by, a teddy bear lay torn from its owner.
Insulation hung from branches and wire fences like a tattered
shoji. Broken pieces of board penetrated trucks and yards like
toothpicks into cake.
The comment that I repeatedly heard was, "You never think
it'll happen to you." Similar to my car accident, tragedy
is just something you hear about, not face in real life until
it happens. "We lost everything, but everyone's okay,"
one woman stated as she walked us through what was left of her
house. With moistened eyes and pained voice, she began to share
her story.
Just minutes before the tornado struck her neighborhood, her husband
returned home from work and insisted on going out for food.
"There's a tornado warning! We can't go out!"
"But I'm hungry! We'll be okay. It's just a warning."
Reluctantly, the wife joined her husband for an early dinner.
As they enjoyed their meal less than fifteen minutes away, the
tornado crashed down every door and window and lifted the roof
off their house. It destroyed and robbed them of virtually everything,
even their fiberglass swimming pool. It lay upside down more than
one hundred feet away. All their cars sat broken and deformed.
Shattered antique vases, figurines, and lamps littered the rooms.
The wife is an antique dealer. Their dog survived the storm by
hiding under the bed. For days, he still cried and ran from unseen
storms.
While the destruction left emptiness and pain, the love poured
forth by various organizations, neighbors, and friends brings
me much joy and thanksgiving. Besides Hope Force International
and Salvation Army, the Red Cross, TEMA (Tennessee Emergency Management
Association), AmSouth, Cracker Barrel, the Boy Scouts and many
others all offered practical needs to those struck by the tornado.
Not only did the folks of these organizations come to bless the
neighborhoods, they've blessed me, too, with their generosity.
Being a blessing is to be blessed. What is more gratifying than
to see Jesus' authentic love being spread?
"Bless
you. You have been used by God today to spread His Kingdom. You've
touched lives," thanked Major Ronnie Raymer of the Salvation
Army as we bade our good-bye. To this day, I still wonder, who
was blessed more, the folks we saw or ourselves?
***
Ming
Lien moved to Nashville, Tennessee, with her family from Taiwan
a little over twenty-five years ago. She writes reflections or
"memoirs" of events through which God teaches something
to her. Her church partnered with Hope Force International, and
she began her training as a reservist with them a few months ago.
©
Ming Lien