December 19, 2007 (finally)

We have all seen destruction.  There probably isn't a person reading this who hasn't encountered a flood, an earthquake, an ice storm, a fire, a tornado or, as in our case, a hurricane. 

Mother Nature periodically decides to rearrange the furniture and take back what she's lent us--or at least remind us that it's hers to take.  It began Saturday night (Dec 1st), and the winds finally reached peak gusts Monday morning--over 120 mph here and along the coast.   For the first couple of days it was like living on Gilligan's Island--no phones, no lights, no motorcars.  People with land lines could only call within the city limits.  All power was lost Sunday night at 9:00 and wasn't fully restored until the following Saturday evening.  There was no power for gasoline pumps, and roads were closed anyway because of flooding and downed power lines and trees.  The trees...

As the winds died down Tuesday, we began to get our bearings.  We got the first newspapers of the week on Wednesday:  "The Big One Hits,"  "Coast Guard Rescues 111,"  "...survival tips inside,"  "Coast Digs Out of Rubble." 

As bad as it was, it didn't SEEM so bad.  The weather stayed warm, the rain moved out, and there was no wind left to blow.  No one was seriously hurt. City crews, power companies and tree cutters from several states worked literally 24 hours a day.  Powered by a generator and a team of dilligent volunteers, Cannon Beach's amazing Community Presbyterian Church mobilized to offer round the clock free hot coffee, hot meals and shelter.  People cleaning out their thawing refrigerators took ribs and salmon and steak and pork chops to the church where volunteers grilled them to share.  Personally, I've never seen so many crock pots:  soups, sausage gravy, rice, vegetables, chowder.  Then the restaurants stepped in, preparing meals from their coffers with fresh salads, desserts, rolls, breakfast foods, juice, and more entrees:  roast beef with gravy and mashed potatoes, salmon and halibut in white sauce, cold cuts for sandwiches.  In this week's Daily Astorian "Coast Weekend" supplement (www.dailyastorian.com,) Lori McKean's food article tells the behind the scene story of this effort (with photos by yours truly.)  One hotel surprised a stranded guest with a birthday cake for her 50th. 

"It could have been worse," people said, even as they remarked that they'd never seen anything quite like it.  I was invited to several places for dinners, for hot showers, for heat.  A couple of neighbors came to my house, and we chatted over a bottle of wine til midnight.  When there is no power for streetlights or porch lights, believe me, it's dark here.  Except for the cozy, soft candles in the windows.  The exterior landscape has been changed for our lifetimes.  Centuries-old trees including Oregon's largest Sitka spruce are at best, battered, and, at worst, toppled or snapped and left for dead.  But inside, I was touched and marvelled at the warm light of smiling friends and generous neighbors and how I've been fortunate to witness and experience this in other places in other disastrous times.  Community exists.  If asked about One Thing I Know For Sure, I would have to answer that the worst of times brings out the best in the human spirit.


(pre-storm clouds on Saturday)






(yes, they are)



(as winds calm down)





(quote: "The trees won't recover in our lifetime.")