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Browsing Tag: #appalachia
I have lots of things to say about yesterday. I plan to open a blog today to get it all out of me, & will share the link as soon as I have it. For now, it will have to be enough for me to say that the outpouring of generosity from ALL OVER AMERICA is something special. I moved chicken cages with a local friend, Donna Parton, a teenager from Georgia, & two guys from Knoxville. One of them had a broken arm but he was still helping. I moved hay that was donated by a man from Jamestown with one of my old co-workers. His wife has manned the fairgrounds tirelessly since the county made the decision to open it to displaced animals. Thank you David Majors for answering my tears & pleading with a MUCH NEEDED fork machine. And Gary was a welcome sight. Thank you Co-op. It’s good to know people in the right places. Thank you Leanne Anke for taking the evacuated horses back to their home on your day off. Thanks to the businesses who are donating their people, their products, & their dollars towards this catastrophic incident. Food City had sent a tractor trailer full yesterday, Borden Dairy another, & I didn’t catch the names of several others in & out. I spoke with a gentleman at the Rescue Squad that Lisega (the new factory on Dumplin Valley Road in Kodak) had sent on their…
Every night I’ve tried to post a little update. I didn’t get to it last night. I was answering the 200+ comments from my last post that evidently went viral. It seems that people all over are hungry for information, & y’all seem to like to hear me tell it because then you know they aren’t alone in your thoughts & observations. Last night brought me another dose of guilt, as I remembered friends in Gatlinburg that I have neglected to check on & now it’s so late it’s embarrassing. I returned some pillowcases to Belk before I went to the library’s Christmas party. I feel like I understand a little bit of why soldiers returning from war are sometimes disgusted when they get stateside. The excess is appalling. I figured my stupid expenditure for frilly pillowcases would better be used elsewhere right now. I felt guilty for going to the Christmas party. I felt shame for enjoying it. I’m telling you, being thisclose to tragedy is a humbling experience. I’ll get another dose of that today, as I go where the Good Lord & Lorie Yount send me. I’m starting at the fairgrounds. I had big plans for cleaning, decorating my tree, & finishing my book today. These were things I mistakenly believed I needed to do. I was wrong. They were things I WANTED to do. There was…
This was the Facebook post that finally convinced me once and for all that I needed a blog. It had 1,617 likes/loves/sad/astounded emojis, over a hundred comments, and 1,331 shares. Totally by telling it like it is. What’s going on in Sevier County, you want to know? You REALLY want to know? Well, the fires aren’t out, unfortunately. They tell me that they keep popping back up from where it was so hot for so long. The fire travels underground, through root growth. Also, when we’ve suffered a drought for the last few months, four inches of rain in two days isn’t hardly enough. It’s better…but it ain’t over. And there are new problems concerning the ashes & rubble now washing into drainage ditches & storm drains clogging the whole system. But that’s less of an evil than what whipped through Monday night. The news isn’t telling it all. Maybe they’re afraid we’re too fragile. But we know. The absolute generosity & outpouring of volunteers in the Volunteer State is truly mind boggling. Every morning & night I give Facebook a quick scroll & I’m astounded by what I see. The compassion & the prayers & the overall messages of “Where can I help today? Who needs what where? Does anybody need a shower & bed?” while I just…
What a day. The county burns on. Certainly humbled me to see the county banding together & helping in any way they can. I drove by the Rescue Squad going home & there were hordes of people donating loads of products. I understand chapstick, Tylenol or equivalent, & shampoo are among the most needed items this evening. There has never been a fire like this & helicopters were back & forth overhead all day, & sirens were a constant as additional crews blasted in from neighboring counties & states, lights & sirens blaring all the way here & through town. I didn’t know what I would wake to this morning but it was a somber mood, a tang of smoke lingering in the air, & alerts on my phone to “staff off” so more emergency calls could go through. It puts life in perspective & I felt guilty sleeping last night, selfish for eating, & anxious being at my regular job. It’s just a sickening feeling. I thank the friends who have checked on me & my community. I haven’t lost anything personally, but plenty of people I know were displaced & everyone was scared. Hopefully we’ll learn from this time & prepare for future disasters. Thank you most of all for the prayers. This fire will be over when God says so. It has been a miracle that no more casualties have been found. Let the rain come. May…
I worked at dispatch less than two years, but I can bet you a dollar to a doughnut they would be praying for rain harder than anybody in this county. I say would be because they ain’t got time to pray. They’re calming screaming homeowners, they’re communicating with fire command, they’re ignoring the constantly ringing black phone that the media relentlessly calls, & they’re probably cussing firemen that aren’t answering their radio transmissions. They’re desperate to go pee, they’re tethered to their console, & somebody is manning the white board and tracking new blazes. They’re probably being very short with each other, relaying only the most pertinent information to one another so they don’t miss a single word on their radios. There’s probably other shit going down too, you know, the usual mix of heart attacks, difficulty breathing, car wrecks, seizures, diabetic emergencies, & people fighting in Kodak. Oh, & all the punks that call 911 for the heck of it and hang up. And this has been going on for DAYS. They probably don’t know what time it is & just wish it would end. Rain cannot get here quick enough. Firemen live for this, don’t let them tell you different. But I’d say they’re getting sick of it by now. Many of them aren’t paid, they…
This deplorable, gun-toting, educated, working white Southern republican female is having chicken-n-dumplins and sweet tea tonight with her middle-class, patriotic, white Southern Christian husband. There should be something for everyone there. If you’re mad about the outcome of the election, you’re probably not still reading this. But I will say this: those of us who grew up in church are accustomed to hearing the church isn’t a place you go. Church is withIN us. Same with the government. Government starts at home. Get educated. Get involved. Per Ghandi, “Be the change you want to see in the world.” Or if you want to get out, by all means, don’t let me stand in your way. Oh, and…
Almost exactly eight years ago, I was leaning against a shed at Sand Creek Farms in Shelbyville at sunset during the Walking Horse Celebration when my momma called. She told me my grandmother was dying of pancreatic cancer. I remember where I was because it was some of the worst news I ever received & I was helpless to it. Pearl Harbor attack. JFK assassination. Challenger explosion. September 11, 2001. These are events in America’s history that are so firmly ingrained & so important in our memories we know exactly what we were doing & where we were. We share these memories; we are not alone in our anger & grief. I wasn’t alive for Pearl Harbor or the assasination, so they are just images & bits of what I absorbed in history classes over the years. The photos are grainy & details are fuzzy in my mind, as they were just dates to memorize for the impending exam. I was five for the Challenger tragedy. I was in the floor playing & the tv was on. I remember sharp intakes of breath & cries of “What happened???” around me. I was wearing my magenta colored plastic charm necklace. September 11th was another scenerio entirely. I was grown, working, a voting American citizen. Details are crystal clear. It was a normal morning at the Co-op…until it wasn’t. A man came in on his regular errand & told us a…
Growing up in the South, you will frequently hear the phrase: “Shit hit the fan.” I don’t think I ever truly understood the meaning until I went to work for Sevier County 911 dispatch. And yesterday, shit definitely hit the fan in Sevier County. Y’all all know Ruby’s burned to a crisp in Pigeon Forge on Sunday, which is hard enough to deal with. It’s terrible when it’s a home out in the county, but when it’s high profile business in the middle of town, you have to deal with all the media, too. And then the helicopter crash yesterday afternoon. You think about that. Phone rings, more than likely it’s someone ABSOLUTELY HYSTERICAL because they’ve watched a helicopter fall from the sky & burst into flames. You can’t believe your ears, you hope it’s someone off their meds but then all the phone lines light up at once as the calls pour in from hundreds of eyewitnesses. You might hear screaming from the victims. The trunk lines fill (that’s 7 phone lines with twelve calls apiece for six dispatchers to answer, if I remember correctly) & roll to the Sherriff’s department. Your first dispatcher starts doing what they do- methodically mashing buttons & maintaining a calm demeanor while in a monotone voice delivers the worst news the EMS world will probably hear all day. And from there, it all goes downhill. And by downhill, I actually mean…
Home is a relative term. If you’re in your hometown and someone asks where you live, you will perhaps give them specific directions. Say I see you at Food City in Seymour, I would tell you I live behind the high school. If I’m in Knoxville, home is Seymour. If I’m in Atlanta, home is Knoxville. If I’m in Asheville, or Savannah, or Charleston, I might care to explain I’m from a small town near Dollywood. People from away are always fascinated that I’m from the same county as Dolly Parton. If I’m on the West Coast, home is simply “Tennessee”. If I were to travel to Ireland, “home” would be the United States. I’m arrogant, but not so much that I would expect them to point out the South on a map of the world. And if aliens abduct me, planet Earth would be close enough for me. So if you move away from where you’re born, but leave behind your family to cleave to your beloved, of perhaps to just a new life, then you hopefully have two homes. Hence the phrase, “Going home for Christmas,” the same as going home after a long day at the office. Home is where the heart is. For years, home was where my horse was, because my heart was my horse. I’ve been home…
I hear a lot of people dreading Christmas, hating Christmas, saying the gift giving isn’t what it’s about. And while that’s true, I hope these people realize that getting back to the true meaning of Christmas starts within yourself. I hope that they pick a child off the Angel Tree, or volunteer with a Food Pantry, or some other selfless act. It WILL change your heart. Last week at work, this couple came up to the counter, inquiring about a discount if they bought several pairs of boots. They said six pairs. So we offered them the same discount we had on Black Friday, including 50% off our closeouts, which are already marked down. They bought fourteen pairs. They were at the counter for awhile, as you can imagine, as we were checking sizes & whatnot. They explained what they were doing. They were from North Carolina & it all started four years ago. A few members in their church are teachers & brought up the subject of a few of the underprivledged children in the community. These teachers had an inkling that some students weren’t getting anything to eat over the weekend. They thought the only food these children received was at school. So it came about that the church was making up sack lunches for these kids to take home over the weekend. It wasn’t much, like a can of soup or a sandwich, some…
