One by one, we can make a difference

Following is an article that I have copied from our local paper. Our town is relatively small -about 8000 people- and our newspaper comes out weekly. I was happy to see this article, along with a photo, on the front page. Read on...

Editor’s note: Don Searle and his family are members of the Carlson Farm ward of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Johnstown. Church members assisted last weekend in recovery efforts in Windsor following last week’s tornado. Don agreed to share the experience with our readers.

By Don Searle
For The Johnstown Breeze

WINDSOR – Recent tragedies around the world, like the hurricane in Myanmar, or the earthquake in China, have been bringing me down. Watching the news with its heart-wrenching stories of human loss and suffering, the staggering body counts, and the futile efforts to provide foreign aid, have hammered home the realization of how useless I am. I’m just one person. How could I possibly make any difference?

Unfortunately, I was given the chance to test that idea because of last week’s destructive weather.

This one really hit close to home, both geographically and emotionally. My family has friends who live in Windsor whose homes were devastated by the tornado. We wanted to go help.

Of course, we had no idea how, but we just wanted to “do something!”

The town was locked down. It was way too dangerous for untrained personnel to go in with all the gas leaks and houses teetering on the verge of collapse, so we stayed away and did nothing.

As time passed, and the area became safe, the volunteers needed were still limited. I began to feel that old familiar futility: Here it was, a community in need, right here in my backyard, and I still couldn’t help.

So, I was hopeful Sunday morning when I went to a specially-called earlier church meeting. Services were kept brief, and as soon as they were over, we were told where we could go to volunteer in Windsor. We dropped off the younger kids at the in-laws, and six of us headed up to help. Within minutes of arrival, we were given an assignment where we were to work – the cemetery.

Now, I had asked to have the opportunity to help, and I agreed to help wherever I was needed. But come on, the cemetery? Weren’t there families with small children left homeless, standing out in front of the remains of their home, waiting for our help?

We joined others at the cemetery and assisted in removing what was left of the fallen trees and cleaning up debris blown in from miles away, and honestly, it felt pretty good to be working. Little did I know things were about to get a lot better.

I ended up working with Justin Brunner, a cemetery technician, who enlightened us on the sheer terror associated with narrowly missing a monster tornado. He told me he ran into the basement of the Windsor Town Hall a minute or two before it struck. Apparently, massive tornados really do sound like a freight train. Also, there is lightning that lights up the windows, with only short flashes illuminating the darkness.

When the storm passed, he said, he went outside and entered a foreign land. “It was like entering that building in your hometown and coming out into an entirely different world,” he said.

Next, he told me something else that changed my perspective entirely. The next day, Monday, was Memorial Day, and due to the recent tragedy, Justin felt the cemetery was going to see its largest crowd ever. It was important to him that people attending wouldn’t have to look at the mess, the constant reminder of what they had lost. If the town was able to show how things can be back to normal, the people would follow suit. In this new light, our task took on greater import. I’m not a slacker, so I hate to admit that I found another gear. I worked faster and harder.

The importance of our task was continually reaffirmed every time someone came in the cemetery bearing flowers. Every one of them thanked us for helping, and told us how important it was to them that the cemetery be restored. One emotional man, tears brimming in his eyes, choked out a heartfelt thanks, then hugged my brother Reed. Filled with genuine empathy, my brother hugged the stranger back until the man was able to restrain his emotions.

Later in the day, we were asked to work on the blocks where the most home damage was done. Our group traveled door-to-door asking if we could help. Some were done cleaning up their yards. Others had small jobs for us to do. We helped on a few of the worst storm-ravaged homes.

Finally, we came upon a lone man with a chainsaw trying to clear six-foot piles of fallen branches from his mother’s yard. It would have taken him three years to get this all done on his own. I was reminded of the futility of the power of an individual to make a difference. We jumped right in. Soon, the piles became five-foot. A volunteer in a Bobcat showed up and helped speed up our efforts. We had the yard cleaned in no time. All right, it may have been a couple hours, but it sure didn’t feel like it.

When we were done, the yard looked good. I was excited to see all that we accomplished. I felt great that we had finished our task. It felt great that we had helped someone.

I reflected on all the thousands of people sacrificing their Memorial Day weekend to help total strangers. I thought of the trucks driving through the neighborhood passing out tools to better get the job done, and water every time you turned around. And there was the Salvation Army trailer serving food.

It dawned on me it was possible for an individual to make a difference. Only sometimes, we have to work with a whole bunch of other individuals to accomplish our goals.