Hope in Rubble

On May 22nd, 2011, Joplin, MO was hit by a massive EF-5 tornado. With winds surpassing 250 mph and the twister reaching one mile long, this destructive force of nature wiped out half the city of Joplin within a very short time. Now 3 months later, the city is still in need of a lot of help. Although the majority of clean up has been done, the task ahead to rebuild seems a little daunting.

(The back of what's left of Joplin High School)

I was at the Americorps office at a little after 7 AM, gross, and quickly was paired up with a volunteer Lutheran church group from Dubuque, Iowa. Sometimes it seems like the media portrays Christians and just a bunch of hypocritical and judgmental bible-thumpers and it's easy to start believing this stereotype. However, all the volunteers and volunteer groups outside of Americorps and the Red Cross were all Protestants or Catholics, whether going solo or in a small group. I honestly was surprised by this. Without knowing who I was or anything about my history, this group of short term 'missionaries' took me under their wing with the hospitality of the Good Samaritan. They gave me a place to stay, giving up their own bed, bought me dinner, and sent me away with little care package items.

The girls of the group decided to spend the second half of the day out of the sun doing data entry. The whole morning we were lifting cinder blocks, chimney bricks, dry wall, 2x6s--whatever was left of a demolished house. The heat index was over 100 and we were all covered from head to toe in dirt and sweat. I decided to finish the manual labor with the men and I'm sure glad I did. The original owner of the house had come by during our lunch to pick up a piece of pipe: a souvenir of the work he had spent in putting the house together. Now he was standing over a barren lot with only a few bits and pieces of insulation and porcelain. I can't imagine the grief. At 76 years old, he isn't the healthiest men, he explained, so that's why he had been unable to do the clean up himself. He teared up when he pointed out where they put the Christmas tree during the holidays. He talked about how his kids and his grandkids and great grandchildren had been raised in this house of love and how how broken he was that it was all gone.

However, he didn't break down until he talked about how *grateful* he was. "I'm just gonna have cry, I'm sorry. God's love..." He stopped to wipe away his tears, "I'm just so lucky. God is so GOOD to me. This is just a house. But he changed me. My heart. God is good." More tears followed.

A man who had lost the house he had spent decades in all in the matter of a few minutes, could not contain the tears because of the hope he found in God.

I'm not retelling this story to try to preach and demand conversion to whatever branch of Protestant Christianity this man was a member of. I even debating retelling this story due to that reason exactly. But this man's joy, despite obvious pain, was too incredible not to share. An evangelical Christian in Joplin was the first person to ask me why I had religion in my survey of happiness. It seemed like he wanted to add in why you should be Christian in one of his sermons. I said honestly: It doesn't matter what religion you are. As long as you are faithful to that religion, you will love longer and happier. Why?

Hope changes everything. Therefore, live in hope!

Segregation

Oklahoma does not live up to all its stereotypes. I have now been east to west, north to south and not once did I consider it to be flat and dry. Ok, so it was a little dry...and more than a little dry as it's the worst drought for them in decades. The east side of the state has gentle rolling hills, trees, and creeks. The grass on the side of the highway despite this is a peaceful deep green, tall, and waves wistfully in the constant winds. Although I know the dangers of ticks and the insects of all kinds in this part of the country, it's the kind of grass that makes you want to run til you can't run anymore and collapse in its comfort to gaze at the clouds passing by overhead.

The people of Oklahoma are neither loud, blunt, or outspoken but they are unspeakably hospitable. It's not the kind of hospitality and openness that reminds you of the chubby southern mother who calls you sugar, tells you what's on her mind, and feeds you in one meal than you would normally eat in a week. In contrast the the stormy and dramatic weather the state receives, the kindness and openness is calm. The more I travel, the more I am finding good people and communities much happier than my own. Almost every night, I've come across people willing to give up their own place to sleep so I would have a more comfortable residence for a night. On top of this, I've only paid for dinner once since I left.

It was on my way to Joplin that I stopped at a gas station in Enid, OK to fill up. Another thing I love about this state is that they have several gas stations that openly advertise the lack of ethanol in their gasoline. (which means more mileage on less for me!) I had even turned out to be on my way to Joplin when I got the feeling to go back. I couldn't shake that feeling and made a U-Turn.

That's where I met Donthan, a big teddy bear of a man from outside Jackson, Mississippi. I asked him and his young son to fill out my survey after the gas stations attendants readily talked to me. He and I got to talking about southern culture and the more we talked, the more he openly explained the racial issues in the south.

When he compared buying a new truck in Oklahoma City as compared to trying to buy one in Jackson, I teared up and almost cried right there. His eyes lit up with the excitement of a kid getting his first bike telling me about how he was able to buy this truck he drives now new. This was something he could never do back in Mississippi. They would find excuse after excuse for not selling him the car he wanted. Nor would they even ask WHAT he wanted! All they would say is "You look like you want this car" and bring over the dirtiest, oldest truck they had.

Can you imagine? Really, what it would like to be in a world that shakes their heads back and forth in denial of racism, yet turns around and refuses to sell you a car when you have the funds and income to do so? I could tell this man had a beautiful soul from the moment our eyes me and he introduced himself, giving my hand a confident yet soft handshake.

It was the kind of conversation that leaves you wanting to hug a tearful goodbye. Instead, we politely shook hands with big smiles on our faces and went our separate ways.

Now, the adventures that awaited in Joplin and more amazing people that made me tear up and want to hug them will wait til the next entry.

Rock Inn Cafe

To say I surveyed the residents of Seymour, TX would be an incorrect statement. One could say that yes, I did try to get a random sample of people but unfortunately as it turns out, it is more difficult to get people to answer a few questions on happiness than to get them to take free light bulbs. Both seem to be relatively easy to have people cooperate with in theory but unfortunately it is not the case.

That was, until I decided to get a coffee at the Rock Inn Cafe. Nominated in the top 40 small town diners in the entire state of Texas, this place has some pretty good food. And to make it better, some pretty nice employees and patrons. I was feeling quite defeated with my attempt to get people to stop and talk to me in front of a shell station at 11 AM. I wondered how the heck can so many small town people have important places to be ASAP at 11 AM on a Sunday morning? The diner was bustling with customers and I sat down next to a man who could tell immediately I was a weary traveler. After we got to talking, he nudged me in the right direction of people to interview and offered me tips on how to get strangers to respond to me. The waitress was your stereotypical no-nonsense small town server, and even more so in the fact that she finally opened up and talked to me after I had an "in" with one of the locals. She kindly asked her regulars to participate in my study as well. Even the owner's son, after laughing about what a city girl I really am, offered me anything on the menu for free (I chose the delicious onion rings though they are famous for their chicken fried steak.) Scott, the man who I interviewed first, didn't head on his way until he had first given me a hug and added my coffee to his bill.

It was really shocking and amazing to how cold everyone seemed to be from the outside until they became the most hospitable and friendly people I have met. I was ready to write off friendly small town America as a myth and huff back to a bigger city to ask my questions. Turns out, you have to know just one person. Then you're family. I would have had two offers for places to stay and to tag along in a hunting trip if the timing was right but unfortunately, I can't afford to drag this trip on. So it was east to Wichita Falls to meet an old friend and then north the Oklahoma City. I am in serious need of a shower, to cool off, and to have a restful nights sleep. The location I chose last night was not a wise one and I fell into fitful sleep with a knife by my side. I'm going to avoid that for tonight! Until next time