On May 22nd of this year, I was flying into Kansas City, Missouri to attend a disaster conference with all of the voluntary organizations around the country. The idea was to get everyone together to share ideas and get to know each other in the rare chance that we would all be needed. At the same time that I was flying in, a little over a hundred miles south in Joplin, Missouri, a tornado was brewing in the skies above unbeknownst to the residents below. They probably assumed that it would be another nasty thunderstorm like always but given the recent events around the world...anything was possible. Back in Kansas City, now safely landed (although we did have major turbulence which prevented even the stewardess' from moving around the cabin) I finally made it to my hotel. Looking back, we (Joplin and myself) didn't know that everything was about to change.
Late that night I got a text from a friend who commented that I probably wouldn't be coming home for a while. Not knowing what he was referring to, I turned on the news to see incoming reports of the devastation and the horror that the massive tornado left in it's wake. A storm so deadly partly because of the cover of night and the speed in which it formed, left most without more than a minutes notice. Well, my friend was right, I immediately learned that the conference was cancelled and I immediately left to head to our offices in Kansas to regroup. Within days, I was meeting with FEMA officials to assess what was left, what was needed and how we could help.
We caravaned to Joplin about 4 days after it initially hit. I was expecting minor damage to the whole city but what I found was even more shocking. Where the tornado carved it's path in the city was completely destroyed; just picture what a neighborhood would look like after a giant lawnmower went by. That's the best explanation that I can give because was was the most shocking was where there was a house demolished to it's foundation, there was another right next door untouched. The idea that you had no idea where it was heading or if it would take you too must have been scarier than watching it take away your neighbors'. Was it coming for you next?
When we finally got to Joplin, we drove down the largest street, Rangeline, which the tornado crossed over. In the news, the major box stores like Wal-mart and Home Depot that were destroyed were all along this road. We could barely make out the where the Home Depot once stood but we recognized one of our partner companies helping with the clean-up. We were able to get right up to the crushed building and as we got out of the truck, the first thing that hit me was the smell. The smell brought me into the moment of where I was exactly and what I was faced with. I realized that this was not just something that you can flip off the TV like you could with a new story when it gets too sad. The smell was that of death and the sight of debris with people frantically looking for any signs of life was almost too much to take.
I spent that night at my hotel unsure of what I was even doing there and how I could help something so massive. I went to bed only with the certainty of a early wake-up call and the rest I would have to, once more, figure out as I went. It was Haiti all over again except this time it was in my backyard.
