Joplin Strong (The Contest Assignment)

             Esther O. asked me to write a creative, non-fiction story. It took me a long time to decide what to write about. Not a lot happens to me that's worth really writing about, but there is one thing that I mention frequently on here, and I think this would be a great time to give you all the whole story. Here 'tis:



             I awoke in the hotel, sore. It was like many other hotels my family has stayed in, but the atmosphere was entirely different. I rolled over and grabbed my iPod, quickly shutting off the alarm that had awakened me. I grabbed my clothes, freshly washed the night before.  It was early, and we were in a hurry--we would be in the hotel lobby eating breakfast before most people had taken their showers. As I slipped my tank top on, I wished I too could take a shower. My muscles ached and the blisters on my hands had popped. After two days laying a block foundation in the heat of summer, I was more than ready for some lighter work. I stepped out onto the balcony of our hotel and looked at the sky. The sky in Joplin, Missouri is gorgeous, especially as the sun is rising.

             We arrived at the work site before eight AM. The truck that Mike and Dawn drove was there already and they were busy setting up for the day. We grabbed our work gloves and water bottles. We had a donated case of water in our trunk, and we each drank about four or five bottles per day. My mom had told us that today would be the hottest of the week, and it was already over eighty degrees, so we slathered our already peeling arms with sunscreen. The work site was on a bare ridge and consisted of the scant frame of a house. Our job was to continue building the frame, add the second floor, as well as window frames. I worked the table saw, cutting boards to fit the holes John, my dad, and Mike measured.
             
        As I cut and carried boards, sweat soaking my gloves, I thought about the past few days, and everything we had seen and learned. Driving into Joplin, it had looked like a normal town, but as we drove beyond the hotel, we saw a giant scar across the main area of the town, a sign of the terrible tornado that had blown through over a year before. There was an unnatural bareness in this area, and what buildings were there were brand new. Over three hundred families, Dawn had said--three hundred still without homes. There were walls and dead trees that had been painted bright colors, and the word "hope" was written on nearly everything. The local Walmart (newly rebuilt) sold T-shirts that declared "I am JOPLIN STRONG!" And that's what the people in Joplin are--strong.

          Mike and Dawn were a mission-couple. They have helped rebuild various parts of America that were destroyed by natural disasters, and their camper was parked in the yard of a Joplin resident. I looked over at Mike, who was sitting in the shade of a canopy drinking a Coke. He was supposed to rest frequently, as he was still in recovery from a surgery he had undergone three weeks before, and was preparing to have a new pacemaker installed. Dawn was careful to remind him of this when his enthusiasm for his job pushed him too hard. I went back to work and thought about the hospitals on the other side of the ridge; one a skeleton, and one a large campus of buildings and tents. I carried another board over to my brother as Mike stood up to work.

         We continued working for another half hour. The temperature had already lifted above ninety degrees, and lunch time was still far off. I took a drink of the lemonade Dawn had brought and cut a board for my dad. I crossed it off the list I had written of the various lengths they needed, and carried it over. I saw Mike lying on his back, and I assumed he was measuring the gap underneath the window in what was to be the kitchen. Dawn stood next to him, saying a number. I was confused when I noticed she was speaking into a cell phone. Why would she say the measurement to someone over the phone? Then Mike groaned, and my dad and brother dropped down beside him. My brother was holding his hand. I ran back to my mom and Tim and told them what was happening. We sat on the cement and prayed, hard, that his heart would beat strong and the ambulance would arrive soon. Dawn asked me to soak a rag to put on Mike's forehead, and I hurried to do it. Then they sent me to the corner to direct the ambulance to the bare site. I stood in the road and prayed. It was a short while before the sirens signaled the approach of the ambulance, but every minute worried me, and I was close to tears. When it arrived I headed back up to where Dawn was standing. She wanted me to use her phone to call the pastor of the Joplin PCA.

          Mike was taken to the hospital over the ridge, and Dawn followed in their pickup. We delivered their dog to neighbors, and then headed home to the hotel to eat lunch. That afternoon, we drove into Kansas and Oklahoma, and then ate dinner at the PCA. Then we drove to the hospital and visited Mike and Dawn. The doctors had yet to figure out the problem, and Mike was in a lot of pain. We returned to our hotel, where I talked to a dear friend online. I wrote to a couple of friends, and then went to bed. We were all exhausted.

           The next day there was nothing to do but head home. We stayed one night in Branson, Missouri, and drove the rest of the way the following day. We received emails throughout both days concerning Mike's condition, and while he was stable, it would be a long time before the complications from his past surgery healed. Dawn told us that the doctors thought it would be about six months before he could return to work. It was hard to leave, but at the same time, home seemed more attractive than ever. We arrived late at night, and sleep was quick to come.

          Six weeks later, Mike returned to work. His body was healed remarkably fast, and both the sites we worked on are, at this time, close to being completed. Praise be to God, Who works all things for His glory and the good of his people!

       

                  God bless Joplin!