Thoughts on the house, after having spent a day in the rubble.
Some things that have been found:
Kelly's bouquet.
All the letters she ever wrote me.
A whole lot of melted photo albums that are slowly being cut and pried open.
Some water soaked books, and some fairly undamaged ones.
My tool box.
The occasional pot, some of which have cleaned up relatively well.
My pipes.
My dad's first grade report card, and the later ACT scores. He fell into the fifth percentile in social services. Apparently not his strong point. I guess it's good to get some statistical verifcation for something I've suspected since I've been old enough to suspect.
A couple of quilts Kelly's grandmother made her.
The walnut chest that Dr. Garner gave us for a wedding present, the cedar chest my great-grandfather gave my great-grandmother as a wedding present, and his typewriter desk. All three of these will take a fair amount of work to get back to a reasonable state, but I think they'll get there.
Lost, of course, is essentially everything else, including 4 cars, the piano, all of the furniture, etc. But all told, the situation in not nearly what it could have been. There is some bizarre coincidence that the lightning struck literally as I was discussing the book of Job with my students. A 6 year old friend of the family announced he was kind of mad at God. My dad told him he wasn't sure God did it.
The family and church response has been tremendous. When they got to Atlanta last night, an apartment was ready for them, with pictures on the walls, a refrigerator full of food, furniture, and a few clothes. Friends stayed up past midnight last night helping free pictures from melted pages, and they're working on it again right now. A friend went and got copies of keys for a car to which there were no keys left. Someone gave them a van to use until whenever. Someone offered them an RV. Friends were there as soon as it was cool, helping to pull stuff from the ashes. I don't know exactly the perspective to take, but it seems like the best kind of disaster. No one is hurt, most things are replaceable. As my mom said, it's all going to burn sometimes anyways. We don't know if they'll rebuild there, or buy something else. Thanks for the prayers, thoughts, and such. Jeremy
15 Comments:
I'm glad to read that the pot and your pipes are both still intact... that should take some pressure off.
But seriosuly, my condolences. Losing a house with so many memory crutches in it is losing a great deal.
There's something supernatural and totally unexplainable about lightning. I guess the stuff that's left over will take on more importance after this. Odd that most of it was wooden.
Jeremy just got home, bringing, among other smoke-smelling items, the painting of 603 North Locust that Taylor gave to us. The frame was charred, and the matting ruined, but the blackened part stops an inch below the painting, which is totally unharmed.
Does anyone know if Jojo's nasty blue and white nappy kitten blanket by any chance got the incineration it deserved?
My fingers are crossed.
Flowers. Letters. Hope chests. And a painting. The tangibles of a divine mystery: Love never fails.
It is so terribly strange and sad. But when I hear Jeremy talk about his family's church, people taking care of people, I also want to add that it is strangely beautiful.
Our prayers are with your family and with you.
I can't believe that the typewriter chest and Taylor's painting made it through the fire. Did the camp meeting diagram of who will be saved make it?
We are pretty certain that neither the nappy kitten blanket nor the diagram survived. As regards the latter, Jeremy notes that "it, too, was destined for hellfire."
We had some people on campus here last week who had come all the way from Montana to tell us that we were most likely going to hell. They didn't really offer any solution, though - they thought churches were the tools of satan. Don't take this as an insult against all of my homeschooled bros. and sis., but yes, you guessed it - they were homeschooled, and they also wore cowboy boots.
Did the original Monet that hung in the grand staircase make it through the fire?
Taylor, the question that clinches it is, were they wearing beltbuckles smaller or larger than their fists?
P.S. Don't pick on home-schooled kids. Pick on their parents.
No, the Monet didn't make it, nor did the 335 piece set of Waterford crystal you gave us as a wedding present. Fortunately, insurance is paying on both. Rising like a phoenix, though, is Hootenanny Volume 2. Half of it succumbed to the flames, though half lives on. To all concerned, yes, "Funk in my pocket" was on the saved half. We've got to figure out some kind of a digital distribution for Volume 2.
Hm. We never received our crystal from Mr. Reinhardt.
Nor have we any funk left in our pockets. Please sir, can we have some more?
Thank goodness 'funk in my pocket' survived the inferno. That little gem needs to be preserved for posterity.
Just to whet your no doubt already considerable appetites:
1. Bunker Hill
2. The Wall/Cottonmouth River
3. June Apples
4. Poor Wayfaring Stranger
5. Soldier's Joy/Black-eyed Susie
6. Little Sadie
7. Sugar Hill
8. Paradise
9. Sally Goodin
10. Shady Grove
11. Raise a Ruckus
12. Lost in the Rain
13. Old Joe Clark
14. Orphan Girl
15. CC Rider
and I may have included a very funky hidden track.
Everett... you didn't get crystal from me because you sank that yacht I gave you the third day you had it.
Now, now, Jonathan. Don't go pointing fingers.
That incident had much more to do with the typhoon than with me.
(I will admit that those three cases of rum may have temporarily clouded my judgment.)
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