The storm is physically over, but in its wake it left broken spirits and emotional storms. What is left here? Much pain and sorrow.
As I drive into the designated “Volunteer/Aid” parking area, I feel as though I have lost my ability to speak. My friend Tori and I have traveled the 120 miles from our homes to Oklahoma. Her friend Veronica is directing relief services there, and we have been invited to help. The early-morning clouds have not bled any sunlight on the wreckage. I look around in disbelief. No news story has appropriately captured what is here.
As we head toward our designated work area, we walk past canvas tents with people sitting on aluminum foldout chairs. Some have casts on their arms and legs, neck braces, and others have less-visible but equally painful …