CARAVAN CRY

 Like many of you, I find myself on the verge of tears lately.

Sometimes it is for sadness, sometimes for happiness.

It could be empathy for my fellow man or sympathy for 

those who are less fortunate than I.

I also find myself re-evaluating love and friendship as

the tragedies of Ida surround me.

Yesterday, when bringing food to a friend,

I crossed the Mississippi river for the first time since the storm.

It was not a bad crossing, there are tree limbs everywhere

and some areas did not seem to have power.

I began to think of the spirit of South Louisiana,

how I lineman wrote a Facebook post about the spirit of our people.

People who have lost so much but make sure those helping us

are well fed and dehydrated. He reports that he has been all

over the United States helping with disasters and never

has he come across the hospitality of our people.

Staring into the face of the aftermath of Ida, 

we care for those who help us.

While contemplating all of this I begin to see

Electricity trucks traveling opposite me.

Not one, but many, all in a line following the other.

Heading towards wherever they are needed.

I begin to cry, then bawl. I must pull over.

It's not safe to drive when the pools of water begin to cloud your vision.

The love and respect I have for all those who answer the call

to complete strangers is palpable.

It is a good time to say, I am from South Louisiana,

a little town called Golden Meadow.