On Sunday, August 28, Irene cried on my village, destroying whole sections of it. Gratefully, no life has been lost, but friends’ and neighbors’ homes have been washed away – along with their land and belongings. Roads are gone, bridges broken. I suffered no property damage, but I am changed by the devastation – and I’m not just talking about the inconvenience of closed roads.
Since the storm, I’ve been doing what I can for local relief. As always, in times of crisis I resort to my two mainstays: food and words. By Tuesday, I’d organized potluck dinners at our community hall, where those with power could bring covered dishes and those without power could eat hot food. We held four of these dinners last week. Others have organized a daily hot breakfast at the hall.
Not only do we feed people at these meals, but we also gather and disseminate information at them. All of us – those who lost nothing, those who lost all and those somewhere in between these extremes – take comfort not just from the food, but also from the fellowship that is part of helping one another in time of need. We need to see and hear and reassure each other that life will go on, we will continue, we’ll get through this – and be stronger for it.
I may have started the potluck dinners, but others have stepped up to do the heavy lifting, from working the phones for food donations to cooking, serving, and washing up after. By Irene-plus-five, it became clear that we were emerging from our shock and starting to adjust to this new normal of a drastically changed landscape and vastly different civic circumstances. By then, I’d already filed a Commentary for Vermont Public Radio. But we needed more. We needed poetry.
I’ve been gathering, printing and posting poems for public consumption. Because we don’t just need food, shelter and clothing. We also need poetry to soothe our souls and give us ‘that thing with feathers’ – what Emily Dickinson called Hope.
Deborah Lee Luskin often writes about Vermont, where she has lived since 1984. She is a commentator for Vermont Public Radio, a Visiting Scholar for the Vermont Humanities Council and the author of the award winning novel, Into The Wilderness. For more information, visit her website at www.deborahleeluskin.com
So sorry that your community was hit so hard, Deborah. But they are lucky to have you and others like you who are willing to step up and bring nourishment – physical and otherwise – to the table.
I know that certain physical needs must be met first – food, shelter, etc – but I believe that supplementing those with something deeper, something that seems – on the surface – to be extraneous can make all the difference in the world.
Good work.
Thank you, Jamie. It’s good to remember how essential writers are. Humans are a narrative species and we are the keeper and tellers of the stories.
Deb.
Unbelievable! Nice to hear that the entire community is helping those in need. Such an inspiring story.
Wendy,
If you have to live through a natural disaster, Vermont’s a great place for it. Incredible community.
Deb.
Thank you and God bless you for serving your neighbors. That is one of the reasons we are here on this earth. Vermont looks like such a beautiful place to live — so glad to know there are beautiful people there as well.
Natalie,
Thanks for your words of comfort and concern. We will weather this – and come out stronger.
Best,
Deborah.
There are no words when this kind of disaster happens. Thank you for being a good person and helping neighbors. Without kind people, there is no hope so in the long run, you are the poem, the “thing with feathers.”
Laura,
Thank you for your very kind words.
Deborah.