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We're Fine
by Debbie Jamieson
September,
2004
Dear All,
Writing from refuge with friends in Sarasota, which
escaped unscathed ~ In Punta Gorda, FL, Ground Zero
for Hurricane Charley, we are sunburned, covered
with bites on top of bites, sweaty, sticky, tired
and grateful beyond words for what we still have. We
are fine, the cats and the turtles are fine, we have
a roof over our heads, though a leaky one that
will be replaced asap, and a largely intact home. We
are among the lucky ones. People drive by and bring
orange juice, ice
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cream and water, and tears to our eyes. Helicopters
buzz overhead constantly, and Hummers drive by full
of National Guard soldiers to prevent looting. There
isn't a tree or a bush or a plant of any kind that
totally escaped
near destruction, and many are indeed destroyed. No
home in the area escaped, and many were demolished,
including our backyard neighbor's. We go to sleep
and awaken to the sound of generators humming all
around us. (We have decided to do without.) We drive
on tires with punctures that we pump back up with a
small air compressor to check up on friends ~ saving
the spare for when it's really needed. We see a few
vehicles abandoned by the road, and know that more
will follow. Seventeen-year-old Mason has acquired a
chainsaw and knows how to use it!
It will be days before we have running water, and
weeks before we have electricity. So, we are very
Little House on the Prairie. Eleven-year-old Isaac
draws by candlelight, and the stars are bright
overhead at night without light pollution to block
their shine. We call out goodnight to each other in
the dark, and it is sweet to hear it. We use water
very conservatively, and open the house to catch the
breeze. Gasoline has replaced cash as the
true currency, for it runs cars and generators and
chainsaws. And above it and around and through it
all, there is Precious Humanity. We share what we
have, and take what we must. And do not feel sad
that you can do nothing from such a distance ~ it
feels good to know that someplace there are intact
trees and homes and tires and stupid TV shows
and the corner 7-11.
Thank you all for your love, concern and caring
thoughts and calls. We feel them like a net cast
over us, protecting and holding us safe. We have
been through a lot, and much is yet to come, but we
are rich in what matters the most. The thing we
remember in times like now is that the true coin of
humanity is kindness, and there is plenty of that to
go
around. We shall not want.
In love and gratitude,
Bob, Debbie, Mason and Isaac
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"If you are really living... you are enjoying the Punta Gorda
Life"
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